Category: Bad Behavior


No Signal Getting To This Brain

| MD, USA | Bad Behavior, Food & Drink, Liars & Scammers, Popular, Technology

(I manage at a small, family owned restaurant that has a dining area and a bar. During happy hour, the bar puts out a small chafing dish filled with complementary wings for our customers. During my shift, the bartender calls me over.)

Bartender: “The woman over there wants to talk to you. She’s asking if we have free wifi.”

(I glance over and notice a woman sitting in the corner of the bar sipping on ice water and eating a plate full of the free wings. I walk over to the woman.)

Me: “Hi, ma’am, [Bartender] tells me you had a question regarding whether we offer free wifi?”

Woman: “Yes, I think that you should offer free wifi for your customers.”

Me: “I apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am, but we don’t have free wifi for customers. You would have to bring that up with the owners.”

Woman: “That’s ridiculous. You need to give me the wifi password.”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know any wifi passwords. Like I said before, this establishment doesn’t offer free wifi. We’re just a small business.”

Woman: “Well, why should I have to use my own data for two hours?! I won’t come back here if you don’t get wifi. It’s the least you could do for PAYING customers!”

(I’m getting irritated as I’m busy and this conversation is going around in circles.)

Me: “Ma’am, no offense but you’re sipping ice water and eating all the wings, both of which are free so technically you’re not a paying customer. Nor do I see how were responsible for you having to use your data plan when you’re here. We’re not forcing you to sit here for hours and browse the Internet. If it’s really that big of a deal, there’s a McDonald’s right down the road. There’s your free wifi.” *smiles sweetly*

Woman: “UGH!” *grabs her purse and plate of wings and leaves*


No Signal Getting To His Brain


Fighting For Three

| England, UK | Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Popular

(I’m eight months pregnant with twins and am massive. My weight has gone up to 13st and my belly is stretched beyond belief. I’m with my eldest daughter getting the last minute shopping as I’m being induced in a fortnight. I can’t move very fast and am having terrible mood swings. I’m pushing the trolley and my daughter is doing all the running around for me.)

Me: “Okay, nearly done. I need a rest.”

(I feel a trolley pushing in to me from the back and turn to see an elderly man.)

Customer: “C’mon, fatty, get out of my way.”

Me: “Excuse me!”

Customer: “You heard. You should be ashamed of yourself. Making her do all the work just ’cause you’re too lazy to bother.”

Me: “Um, I’m pregnant, not fat and lazy. And please don’t push your trolley into me.”

Customer: “I’ll do as I see fit. I’m 70 years old and can still get my own shopping. I didn’t fight in the war just to watch fat slobs like you work your kids to the bone.”

(He then pushes the trolley into my thigh and hip.)

Me: “That’s it! Listen to me you miserable old b******. First of all, if you’re 70 you didn’t fight in any war. WWII ended in 1945; you would’ve been a baby. Secondly, I am obviously heavily pregnant and my daughter is helping as I can’t reach up or bend down. Thirdly, if you ram me with that trolley again I will do it back to you. Just because you’re old it doesn’t give you the right to be an a**-hole!”

Customer: “How dare you talk to me like that! I fought in the war; I could have died for our country!”

(He tried to push my trolley into me, but my daughter moved it. I’d had enough by then and decided to do it back to him. I pushed his trolley into him as he was holding onto it and backed him up to a display and trapped him there. Several people stop to look.)

Me: “Come on, then, you cantankerous old f***er! Not so tough now that the whole shop can see you. Still want to yell at the pregnant lady for being fat and lazy? Still want to ram a trolley into me while I’m carrying twins? I didn’t think so. See, I know you didn’t fight in a war. You’re a miserable, lonely old coward who can only feel better about themselves when they’re making others feel bad. Didn’t work on me, did it? What’s wrong, old man? Forgotten all the horrible things you said to me? Nothing mean to say now that I’m not some meek little woman?”

(I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn, still quite angry.)

Security Guard: “Maybe we can let him go now, ma’am. I think he’s been told off enough. My colleague will escort the gentleman out. May I suggest a complimentary drink and cake from our café?”

Me: *as sweet as sugar again* “Ooh, cake. That’s very kind. He was extremely rude.”

Security Guard: “I know, another customer told us and we could see everything on CCTV. How far along are you?”

Me: “I’m being induced in a fortnight. I have two 7lb-ers in here and I’ve had enough.”

Security Guard: “My wife had twins last year. The last trimester was the worst two and a half months of my life and I WAS in a war! I would’ve gladly gone back to Afghanistan to get away from her at times!”

(The elderly man was asked to leave and I and my (very embarrassed) daughter had a lovely piece of cake. And no, I didn’t feel bad about talking to a pensioner that way. Just because you’ve lived a long time, doesn’t mean you can be rude.)


Wish You Could Be Joyless

| Colorado Springs, CO, USA | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior, Popular

(At our store we have a notorious regular who comes in every single day and hates every single one of the entire staff and the whole store, and isn’t afraid to make it known. She hates everyone and everything. The irony is that her name is very similar to Joy. Our store is notorious for having excellent customer service and satisfaction and is often recognized by our corporate office in Arizona for it. This kind of interaction happens on a daily basis.)

Me: *sees Joy and perks up, trying to be as friendly and polite as possible* “Good morning! How are you today?”

Joy: *glares and frowns* “Terrible.”

Me: *as I start ringing her items up* “I’m very sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do for you to make it better?”

Joy: “Leave.”

Me: *awkward pause* “Um… did you find everything okay?”

Joy: “No. I never do.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Would you like any rain checks?”

Joy: “No.”

Me: “Okay, I’m sorry, ma’am. Your total is [total] and I even gave you a couple extra bag credits today!” *customers can get five cents off their purchase for each reusable bag they bring in and we use*

Joy: *squinting at the screen* “Did you give me credit for my bag?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I actually gave you five credits today. I know it’s only 25 cents, but every penny helps, right?” *smiles*

Joy: *glares and gives me her money*

Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice day!”

Joy: “I won’t! I hate this store! You have terrible employees! I hate it here!” *takes her things and leaves*

Me: *sighs*


An Un-fee-sable Excuse

| MN, USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids, Health & Body, Money, Popular

(I work in the billing department of a large mental health clinic with multiple locations. Many clients call in to dispute missed appointment fees that accrue when a client no calls and/or no shows. The mother of a client calls:)

Me: “[Clinic] Billing Dept. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Mom: “I need you to remove the fee on my son’s account. I was really confused about the appointment.”

Me: “Okay, let’s look into it. So, what was confusing about the appointment?”

Mom: “Well, I didn’t think he had to go.”

Me: “Why is that?”

Mom: “Well, nothing has changed since the last appointment. The meds aren’t doing anything.”

Me: “He was still scheduled for an appointment, and the doctor would want to know if there weren’t any changes, so she could adjust the medications or try a different course of action.”

Mom: *suddenly sounding angry* “But you didn’t even send his medications to the pharmacy!”

Me: “Wait, so he hasn’t been taking his medication since three months ago?!”

Mom: “NO! Your stupid doctor didn’t send over the prescription!”

Me: “Okay. I have to ask: did you call us to see if we could re-send the prescription?”

Mom: “Well, no.”

Me: “Let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly. You came in for the appointment, and your son was prescribed [Medication]. You went to the pharmacy, and they didn’t have the prescription. You didn’t call us to notify the doctor that he would be without meds. Your son hasn’t been on his meds now for three months. You didn’t think he needed to be seen because his behavior hasn’t changed. And you want me to remove the fee even though you knew that he had an appointment at that day and time?”

Mom: “Yes, exactly!” *calmer now that I understand*

Me: “Well. I’ll see what I can do. Meanwhile, I’m going to notify his doctor about the situation, and I want you to schedule an appointment as soon as possible.”

(The call ended there. I looked, and we HAD sent the prescription, twice, both times confirmed by the pharmacy. At this point, I wasn’t even upset that she wanted the fee removed even though she knew about the appointment. I was angry that she had such blatant disregard for her eight-year-old’s health!)


The Party Is Going To Pot

| UK | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids, Popular

(Every so often, my mother and I go to a pot painting cafe together. It’s run by an older woman, but the rest of the staff are in their late teens. It also holds birthday parties in a separate room upstairs. On this particular day, my cousin and aunt are with us, and only the teen girls are at work. A woman comes in with her two kids for a party being held for her daughter. She then walks out to her car, leaving the kids in the cafe. The kids ask if they can go up to the party room, and the girl at the counter agrees. Then the mother comes in, goes upstairs, and comes downstairs fuming.)

Customer: *shouting* “How DARE you tell my kids what to do?”

Staff Member: “I- I’m sorry?”

Customer: “No one is allowed to boss my kids around! What gives you the right to tell them where to go and what to do?”

Staff Member: *on verge of tears* “I- I didn’t—”

My Aunt: *interrupting* “She didn’t tell them what to do. They asked to go upstairs!”

Customer: “What?”

My Mother: “Yes, I saw the whole thing. They asked to go upstairs and she let them.”

(The woman storms off upstairs to check. The staff member goes into the back, clearly crying her eyes out. A little later, the staff member is back at the till, and the woman comes downstairs again.)

Customer: *somewhat insincerely* “Oh, no, dear, I’m so sorry. Did I make you cry?”

Staff Member: It’s okay…

Customer: “Oh, no, dear, I’m just stressed because a lot of kids cancelled and I need to re-organise things… I was thinking that, since there are less kids, they could do more expensive pots…”

(My family then watches in disbelief as the woman changes literally every aspect of the party, on the actual day. The next week, my mother and I are back, and the owner comes over to talk to us.)

Owner: “Were you here last week?”

My Mother: “Yes, why?”

Owner: “Do you mind telling me exactly what happened with that woman who came in about the party?”

(We explain what we saw and said, the owner’s frown getting deeper all the while.)

Owner: “Right, I just had to check what [Staff Member] said. Thank you for sticking up for her.”

My Mother: “It was nothing. Did something else happen?”

Owner: *sighs* “That woman booked with us last year and shouted at me for passing her on the stairs. Usually for parties we insist on people spending £11 per child, but she only paid £6 this year. To make matters worse, she’s not paid for two tiles – one was abandoned and re-done, and the other broke in the kiln. We think one of the kids smacked it on the table, or something. Hopefully, she’s coming in today to pick the tiles up, because I’m not in tomorrow and [Staff Member] will be in charge. We’ve tried to be diplomatic with this woman, but she’s self-centred and has spoilt those two kids absolutely rotten. Her mother is just as bad – she came in last year. And that’s not even the worst part.”

Me: “What could possibly be worse?”

Owner: “The kids’ names. They’re called Emperor and Empress.”

My Mother: “You’re joking.”

Owner: “I’m not.”

(The last I heard, that woman was banned from booking any more parties at that cafe. No word on whether she paid for the two extra tiles or not.)

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