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Category: Bad Behavior

Day One: Fine. Day Two: Attempted Kidnapping

, | Gothenburg, Sweden | Bad Behavior, Criminal & Illegal, Hotels & Lodging

(I’m on my first internship at a hotel restaurant and have received good praise from the boss and the other workers. It’s my second day and since it’s late November, the restaurant is fully booked for various company’s Christmas parties. I’ve just turned 18 and I am legally allowed to serve alcohol to customers. My coworker instructs me what to do and warns me about how ‘free spirited’ the customers can (and will) be. They also tell me that I should report immediately if something happens. The first hour passes by fast and many of the guests are dancing in the middle of the floor. I go to pick up some of the plates from an empty table in one of the corners of the room when someone suddenly grabs my butt. I turn around and see a man around fifty-years-old.)

Me: “What are you doing?!” *I immediately respond and take his hands of my back*

Customer: “Don’t be such a heartbreaker, darling. I was just admiring your behind and couldn’t help myself.”

(He smirks jokingly. To my surprise he doesn’t seem drunk at all.)

Me: “Well, sir, I’m sorry to inform you but I feel very uncomfortable.”

Customer: “Well I have a suggestion that the two of us could move to a more quiet place and maybe get to know each other better.”

(Before I can respond the man proceeds to grab me and drag me out of the room. In my state of panic I catch a glance towards the kitchen door and see, on one of the female coworkers, a shocked face, and how she rushes through the door. The man just reaches the exit when the security chief, a tall and very muscular man, enters through the kitchen doors. He spots the man dragging me out and runs to us.)

Security: “And where are you going with our waiter? I suggests NOWHERE!”

(The entire room stopped and turned to us and the man became pale as a ghost, let me go, and then headed towards the exit. After the man ran away the boss came down and asked if I was all right. I was sent home early to get a good night’s sleep. The scary thing was that the man wasn’t even on the guest list. He had just entered the party without anyone’s permission!)

Wish You Could Just Bury Your Head In The Sand

| Australia | At The Checkout, Bad Behavior

(There is a promotion on at the toy store where I work for a new type of sand that comes with several sets of molds. Because the promotion is going so well, we run out of molds in the first few days and are waiting for our new stock to come in next week. We used to have many signs around the store advertising both the sand and the molds, but we have taken down all the mold advertisements and actually put up a few sign saying that we’ve run out.)

Customer #1: “Hi. My son’s birthday is next week. I want a pack of [Sand] and three molds to go with it.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we’ve sold out of molds, but we are getting more in on Tuesday. Would you still like to buy a pack of [Sand] now or would you like me to put it aside for when the molds come in?”

Customer #1: “EXCUSE ME? What do you mean you’ve sold out?!”

Me: “Um… I mean we’ve sold out. We sold out a few days ago actually, but, as I said before, we are getting more in on Tuesday.”

Customer #1: “IT’S MY SON’S BIRTHDAY NEXT WEEK AND I NEED THE SAND AND THE MOLDS. WHY WOULDN’T YOU KEEP SOME FOR ME?!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer #1: “WHY WOULDN’T YOU KEEP SOME FOR ME?”

Me: “Ma’am, do you actually think it would be possible for me to know that you, a stranger, would need this product for your son’s birthday and have kept some aside for you? This is the first time I’ve met you.”

Customer #1: “This is actually ridiculous. I will be back on Tuesday for my sand and three molds. There will be trouble if I don’t get them. Do you understand? TROUBLE!”

Me: “…”

(Customer #1 storms out of the store and I don’t see her for the rest of the day. I don’t work Tuesdays so I leave a note for my coworker saying explains what happened and to watch out for her. I come in on Saturday morning for my next shift and there is only one packet of [Sand] left and one mold to go with it. I am currently ringing up both of them for Customer #2 who regularly comes in to buy products for his daughter.)

Customer #2: “My daughter is going to love these! Did you know it’s her birthday tomorrow?”

Me: “No way! Wish her a very happy birthday from m- OH, NO!”

(I see Customer #1 come through the doors and head straight towards me.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer #1: “You know what I want.”

Me: “Ma’am, did you not buy the products on Tuesday?”

Customer #1: “NO! I didn’t get a chance on Tuesday. I was doing things. Now give me my products.”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, we’ve sold out again, this time of both products. I can’t sell you anything. If you had come in earlier in the week when I told you the stock was arriving then you may have been able to purchase them.”

(Customer #1 throws a huge fit and knocks over a large stand and shattering many products in the process.)

Me: “Miss! You need to calm down! I just sold the last product to this man. You’re too late. You need to leave the store.”

(Customer #1 proceeded to push over Customer #2, take his bag and make a run for it. Unfortunately for her, Customer #2 was an undercover police officer, who proceeded to catch her, arrest her, and charge her with both assault and theft! Customer #2 got the store a huge amount of compensation for for the broken products, which we ended up giving to him to spend on his daughter’s birthday. I never saw Customer #1 again!)

Don’t Count Your Chickens Before They’ve Burned

| Fort Worth, TX, USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests

(I work in a well-known retail store, where the bakery and deli are in the same area. This is important for this story. I work in the bakery side and sometimes help slice meat for the deli; therefore, I have no idea how to help a customer order a deli platter. This particular night deli is shorthanded because one of their workers broke her kneecap a few weeks ago.)

Customer: “Hi, can you help me with something in deli?”

Me: “I can certainly try to, ma’am.”

Customer: “I was wondering: do you have any of your deli platter menus?”

Me: “Let me check for you… Okay, here you go, ma’am.”

Customer: “This doesn’t look like the menu my mother has at her house.”

Me: “They differ store to store, ma’am.”

Customer: “Is there anyone who can help me right now who knows the deli?”

Me: “No, ma’am, not at this moment in time. They have to pull out the rotisserie chickens so they do not burn…

Customer: “Well, I’m the customer right now. I should be more important than future customers!”

Me: “As I said before, ma’am, they are more than happy to help you once they have the chickens out of the oven. The chickens are more important than you right now.”

(At this moment my bread oven started to go off, so I walk away, thinking she will just wait there for a deli associate to finish up their chickens and come help her. A few minutes later…)

Deli Associate: “Hey, where’s that customer who was standing at the counter waiting for help?”

Me: “I guess she didn’t want to wait for you to finish your chickens…”

Deli Associate: “Oh well. I’m still a little backed up. Can you stay by the slicers and help out?”

Me: “Of course, not a problem!”

(A few more minutes go by, and the customer still hasn’t shown back up. A manager is coming towards me so I think he encountered the customer and she said something to him, but…)

Manager: “Everything okay over here, [My Name]?”

Me: “Yeah, all good.”

Manager: “Okay, because I got a call earlier about a customer needing help and not getting it.”

Me: “Well, sir, I explained to her that this was not my area and she would have to wait a few minutes for a more experienced deli associate to finish their rotisseries.”

Manager: “Ok, that’s fine. Thank you, [My Name].”

(At this point, I’m thinking it’s all fine and dandy. A few minutes pass, and I see the customer with a CSS.)

Customer: “Her! She’s the one who wouldn’t help me!”

CSS: “Ma’am, is the deli your area?”

Me: “No. As I have already explained to her, she had to wait for a deli associate to finish taking out the chickens. That’s our policy. We can’t sell a dry, burned chicken. Sorry, ma’am.”

(She leaves the store in a huff. Later that night I see the CSS as I’m leaving for the night.)

Me: “Sorry for the trouble earlier.”

CSS: “Oh, no problem. [Manager] explained the policies to me. Besides, that woman was a little crazy. She just started yelling at me as soon as I came out of the cash office!”

Me: “Wow. Well, good night. Have a good rest of your evening.”

CSS: “Ha, yeah, right. I’m a front end manager…”

Me: “Oh, right…”

Not A Strong Parental Drive

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Bad Behavior, Criminal & Illegal, Family & Kids, Transportation

(I am a technician. I am given an SUV to perform a brake job. I hop in the car and drive it into the shop when I glance in the rear view mirror and spot a small boy strapped into his carseat. He smiles and waves at me. I whip around and look at him with a dumbfounded look.)

Me: “Uhh. Why are you in here?”

Boy: “Mommy said I can stay in the car.”

Me: “I think your mother was mistaken.”

(I roll down the window and shout for my shop foreman. He walks up and his jaw drops. I un-strap the child much to his dismay, and walk him into the lobby while holding his hand.)

Mother: “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY CHILD! I’M CALLING THE COPS!”

Me: “Don’t shout at me. Why on earth did you think leaving your son in your car was a good idea? Do you have any idea how hot it was in your vehicle by the time I got into it?!”

Mother: “He’s restless. The only time he calms down is when he can nap in the car! WHY DID YOU TAKE HIM OUT?!”

Me: “Ma’am. I am not leaving a child in a hot car five feet in the air while I perform service on it.”

Shop Foreman: “Go ahead, ma’am… Call the police, and explain to them why your son’s energy is reason enough to leave him in a hot car with the windows up… I think they might side with us.”

(She sputters profanity at us for about 30 seconds before storming out of the store looking for her car.)

Shop Foreman: *to me* “Are you gonna back her car out?”

Me: “I was thinking of going to lunch, actually.”

Faker Moaning About Faking

| Devon, England, UK | Bad Behavior, Bigotry, Criminal & Illegal, Health & Body

(I use a wheelchair. The shop has customer wheelchairs marked very clearly with the name of the centre the shop is in. I’m supposed to be working on tills, but due to being short staffed, I’m helping out with stacking the shelves.)

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “I was wondering if I could use that wheelchair?”

(I assume she meant a wheelchair, rather than the one I’m currently sitting in.)

Me: “Of course. If you head over to the door, the security guy there can get one for you.”

Customer: “You want me to walk over?”

Me: “I’ll go and ask him. Feel free to take a seat, if it’s more comfortable for you.”

Customer: “No, it’s fine, thanks. I guess I’ll go ask myself. I mean, if I have to use one of those ugly things.”

Me: “Yeah, they’re not the best are they? But it’s really no trouble for me to go over there, if you want me to.”

(The customer shakes her head, and sits on one of the stacking stools, Maybe ten minutes later, she’s still sitting there, and all I’ve got left to shelve are things that are usually way above my head. Since I’m having a pretty good day, I figure what the hell, and start standing for short periods of time so shelve the lighter stuff, something I’m more than capable of doing.)

Customer: “How dare you!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “How dare you sit around in that chair all day, and then start standing up with boxes just like anyone else? People like you make my life so much harder, you know that?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what—”

Customer: “I have an invisible disability. People like you who go around faking for sympathy and making everyone think I’m a faker too.”

Me: “I have an invisible disability. Hence the chair.”

Customer: “Well, then you shouldn’t be standing up, should you?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but… you walked into the shop.”

Customer: “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

Me: “You don’t?”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

(I radioed my manager over. She took a while to get there, so I carried on shelving. While I’m standing up, and my back is turned, the customer took my wheelchair and vanished off into the shop. At a loss for what to do, I took the stool she vacated and waited for my manager to show up, while the security guy at the door – visible from my aisle – took off after the woman. I sat there for almost an hour until security finally tracked the woman down in another shop in the centre. They tried for a while to get her to give my chair back, all while she accused them of discrimination, saying they think she’s an idiot who can’t tell the difference between a centre chair and mine because she’s disabled. Eventually, once security had radioed police, she gave it back. She was still sitting on the floor, yelling about fakers ruining her life, when the police arrived.)

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