Category: Wild & Unruly

Don’t Even Need To Ink About It

| Canada | Bad Behavior, Wild & Unruly

(I own a tattoo parlour with a highly sought after artist. He has a very unique style, and often has clients who come from all over the world to get tattooed. This means he’s booked months, even years, in advance. He doesn’t do walk-ins, and only accepts projects that he feels will let him expand as an artist. He also keeps a cancellation list with secondary projects that he will accept if a spot opens up. He’s courteous enough to accept all consultations, but generally doesn’t add anyone to his list. One Monday, our consultation day, a girl in her early twenties comes in asking for a consultation.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m here for a consultation with [Artist]. He’s expecting me.” *smiles smugly*

Me: “Actually, we don’t make appointments for consultations, but [Artist] should be done with his current consultation soon, so you’re more than welcome to wait. Do you have a particular design in mind? One of our other artists might be able to handle it.”

Customer: *rolls her eyes* “Um, no. I want to be tattooed by [Artist]. He’s got something special already planned for me.”

Me: “Ah, okay. Well then, feel free to sit down and wait.”

(We get this a lot: people trying to weasel their way into his schedule, claiming they know him, he’s a friend, he’s already designed it, etc. He’s told us to just send the people back through to him rather than creating a scene at the front desk.)

Customer: “Can I book my appointment first, though? I want [Date and Time].”

Me: “I’m sorry; [Artist] likes to make all the appointments himself. He’s very selective about who he works with. He’s actually fully booked for the next 15 months, but we might be able to put you on the cancellation list if he likes your idea.”

Customer: *rolls her eyes* “Whatever. I already told you he’s got something special for me. He’ll book me for [Date and Time].”

(I realize I’m not going to get anywhere with this girl, so I show her to the waiting room and give her a consultation form to fill out. I also shoot Artist a text warning him about his next consultation. About 15 minutes later, the girl storms out of Artist’s office, screaming profanities at Artist.)

Customer: “You’re such a f****** asshole! Do you seriously think you’re so good you can reject my idea?! I’m PAYING you to do that, so YOU WORK FOR ME! F*** you! I’m going to f****** ruin your reputation! No one will want a tattoo from you after I’m done! F*** YOU AND YOUR S***TY SHOP!”

(She slams the front door so hard she manages to crack the glass.)

Me: “Geeze, [Artist] what did you tell her?”

Artist: “The truth. I told her I’m fully booked, and I didn’t like her idea. She refused to discuss other ideas, so I told her I didn’t want to work with her. If someone’s a pain in the ass during the consult, they’re going to a nightmare during the actual appointment. Not worth the headache.”

(Later we discovered she had left very negative and very rude reviews on our Facebook page and Yelp. However, due to Artist’s outstanding reputation, she was promptly told off by many of his clients. She has also been blacklisted at many of the tattoo shops around the city.)

Your Membership Is Dead

| UK | Bad Behavior, Health & Body, Wild & Unruly

(I have just started as a first aider at a children’s activity centre. I have been called to a ball pit where a child has collapsed. I am doing the necessary checks when a woman, who has been there all of ten seconds, speaks up.)

Woman: “She’s dead. There’s no point in resuscitating her.”

Mother: “What? No!”

Woman: “There’s nothing you can do. She’s dead.”

Me: “Actually she’s breathing, although her pulse is low.” *radioing for an ambulance*

Woman: *to the mother* “SHE IS DEAD! Get over it. It happens all the time!”

Me: “Excuse me, madam. If you aren’t going to be helpful, could you please leave the area?”

(This shuts the woman up, but I hear her mumbling about how I should give up as she walks away. The ambulance arrives, and the girl is conscious as she is taken away. An hour later I walk into the manager’s office and the manager motions me to keep quiet before putting his call on speaker.)

Woman: “…and this man was very rude to me. I am a long-time customer, and don’t take too kindly to—”

Manager: “Yes, madam, I can understand your frustration. However I’m afraid there is very little that I can do.”

Woman: “You can do plenty! You can fire his a** or I will never bring my children there again!”

Manager: “Yes, madam, I could. However I think given the circumstances that would be highly inappropriate.”

Woman: “WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES? THAT C*** WAS F****** RUDE TO ME!”

Manager: “He also assisted in saving a young girl’s life today, the mother of which, if I understand the context of your complaint, you screamed at saying she was already dead.”

Woman: “How the f**** would you know?”

Manager: “My colleague was radioing me for an ambulance when I heard ‘SHE IS DEAD.’ While I cannot be certain, I did recognise the voice as you just shouted.”

Woman: “Well, I… f***!” *hangs up*

Me: “What kind of a**-hole does that?!”

Manager: “A special breed we like to call ‘Gold Star members.’ They’re friends of shareholders who think they run the place because they get everything for free. Never mind traumatising a poor mother; she was told to shut up, which as we all know is an unforgivable sin!”

(The manager got put on probation after the woman told her shareholder friend, but upon realising the facts the woman was banned by the shareholder. The manager was also promoted and I got a raise. The girl made a full recovery. The woman’s daughter visits the centre frequently, still being listed as a gold star member. He father comes with her now, though, instead.)

Actually Feel More Sorry For That Stairwell

| USA | Hotels & Lodging, Wild & Unruly

(I am a sixteen-year-old, part-time, front desk attendant. Tonight is particularly busy, but my coworker and I manage to check everyone in promptly and without issue. We are organizing some things that hadn’t gotten filed properly in the rush when a woman emerges from the elevator, which is about twenty feet in front of the desk.)

Guest: *walks out of the elevator haughtily, and proceeded to pitch her belongings at the front desk*

Me: *trying to ignore that she almost hit me and my coworker with her luggage* “Good evening. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Guest: “I demand you switch my room! This is unacceptable!”

Me: “All right, I’ll get right on it. However, may I ask why your current room is unacceptable?”

Guest:“Why in the h*** would you need to know? Just switch my room!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I need to know in case the room is in need of repair so I can take it off market for the night.”

Guest: *huffs and literally raises her purse above her head and slams it onto the counter* “Just switch my room and give me a discount already! I should get this room for free because of the issues you’re causing me.”

Me: “I’m sorry but I can’t authorize any discounts without a reason.”

Guest: “You put me beside the f****** stairwell!”

Coworker: *looks at me confused*

Me: “Um, I’m sorry but you didn’t ask to be roomed away from the stairwell, Miss [Guest]. I would have gladly changed it had you asked at check in.”

Guest: “Well, you should have f****** known where the h*** I wanted put, you dumb c***!”

(My coworker, who is the shift manager, nods at me to go ahead and get rid of her however I can, even if that means kicking her out.)

Me: “That is not proper language to be using at me, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from using anymore foul language. I will gladly change your room; however, you will still need to pay full price.”

Guest: *slams hands on counter in front of me, and leans over into my face* “I am so sick of dealing with dumb c**** like you! You will give me a new room, for free, and full access to the mini-bar for free as well!”

(At this point I’ve reached my breaking point.)

Me: “Excuse me, but you will not be getting anything for free or discounted. Had you came down in a calmly manner, and politely asked to switch rooms I may have offered a discount. However you attitude makes it very clear that you do not deserve one.”

Guest: *looks over at my coworker* “What the h***?! You should have known to room me somewhere else! Are you just going to sit there and let this woman talk to me like this? Are you the manager?”

Coworker: *walks from her desk to stand by me* “Miss [Guest], I am the acting manager at the moment, and I have to agree with my employee. Your attitude has been less than appropriate. At this point I request you go back to your room quietly or accept the one she is offering you.”

Guest: *grumbles before accepting, cursing at me the whole time under her breath*

Me: “Your new room is 536. Have a pleasant evening.”

Guest: “What floor is this on?”

Me: “It’s on the fifth floor, in the second tower.”

(Our hotel has two towers, with a conference hall in the middle to connect the two. To go from tower to tower, you must go to the first floor and walk the hallway connecting them.)

Guest: “Well, f****** great! Now I’m definitely gonna get kidnapped! I didn’t want to be by the stairwell in the first place because of all the riff-raff coming through at all hours of night!”

Me: “I assure you that the stairwells are locked at 11 pm and not opened again until 6 am or unless someone calls down to use them.”

Guest: “I’ll keep my old room, but I want you to sit by the stairwell door all night and make sure no one comes through it. I also want the room half price, and full access to the mini-bar for free.”

Coworker: “As I told you before, we do not have mini-bars and I am not discounting your room. We are not mind readers, and in no way could have known you preferred to be away from the stairwell.”

Guest: *throws hands up in the air* “Well what kind of hotel doesn’t have a f******g mini-bar?”

Me: “The kind with an actual bar on the premises.”

Guest: “Well, fine, then. I want free drinks on the house during my entire stay!”

Me: “We can’t do that for you, Miss [Guest].”

Guest: “Then you can pay for my drinks, little miss snot!”

(At this point my coworker can tell I’m struggling to handle the situation.)

Me: “I’m underage and thus cannot buy you a drink, even if I desired to.”

Guest: *smirks* “Oh, so you’re probably a knocked up tramp working because Mommy and Daddy kicked you out for being such a slut! Tell me, how many guys could be the father?”

Me: “I’ll have you know, I am working to pay for night classes so that I can graduate with an associates degree. I strive to be more refined in this world, unlike some people.”

Guest: *puffs up and face turns red* “How dare you! Did you just hear what she said to me? I demand you fire her!”

Coworker: “That’s a long list of demands you’ve made. Despite us being a five-star hotel, I cannot meet any of these demands. I suggest you either take the new room, or go back to your current room.”

Guest: “I’ll take the f****** new room! I want someone to carry my belongings over to the room for me. I also want a free dinner from the restaurant here.”

Me: “I can get our security guard to carry your belongings, but as I stated before I cannot and will not give you anything for free or discount.”

Guest: “You are the biggest c*** I’ve ever met! I hope you flunk out of high school and your house burns down!”

(She then stomps off to gather her belongings. We call in our security guard and tell him the situation. He agrees to escort her… to her car)

Guest: *starts yelling when the guard asks where her car is located* “I am not leaving this f****** hotel! I paid to stay here and I’m not leaving! I want a free dinner, drinks, and room! You’d better f****** guard that f***** stairwell!”

Me: *happily* “We’ve already refunded your card, and added you to our not-welcome list. Have a nice evening!”

(We hear her screaming all the way out to her car, and then watch as she drives away angrily, almost hitting several cars.)

Guard: “I already alerted the state boys of a speeding woman driving recklessly. Have a nice night, you two!”

Coworker: *high-fives me*

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Making Decisions Is Talking Turkey

, | FL, USA | Food & Drink, Wild & Unruly

Customer: “Can I have a pound of turkey, please?”

Me: “Which kind would you like, ma’am?”

Customer: “I’m sorry… what do you mean, ‘which kind’?”

Me: “We have over a dozen different kinds of turkey.”

Customer: “Oh, no, no, no. I’m not making decisions. I’m on vacation. You’re not getting me to make any decisions. I’m on vacation so I won’t have to deal with that stuff.”

Me: “Then how can I know which kind of turkey you want, ma’am?”

Customer: “Turkey. TUR-KEY. You know, gobble gobble! What’s so hard about that?!”

Me: “Well, do you want plain, sweet, smoked or spicy?”

Customer: “NO! I’M NOT MAKING DECISIONS! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME MAKE A DECISION! I WANT F***ING TURKEY!”

Me: *deadpan* “You want me to pick for you.”

Customer: “YES!”

Me: “All righty.”

(I grab the nearest package of turkey without looking at it and cut her a sample slice.)

Customer: “This is gross! Why would you pick this flavor?!”

Me: “Well, that’s what sometimes happens when you don’t pick the flavor you want, ma’am.”

Customer: “Whatever! Just give me a pound of that gross s***!”

Peanut Bitter

| ME, USA | Food & Drink, Wild & Unruly

(I work for a small chocolate shop that has a big table full of assorted truffle flavors where customers can make their own mixed bag. Recently, a new rule was passed so that we have to keep the peanut butter truffles behind the counter, so that people who are allergic don’t accidentally add them to their bag. We have a sign on the table that has a picture of a peanut butter truffle, and big words telling people to ask an associate for peanut butter. Still, people tend to miss the sign, so before they check out I usually ask if they wanted peanut butter added to their bag.)

Woman: *checking out* “I should have enough there.”

Me: “Yep, it looks like you’ve reached a pound. Before I seal the bag, do you want me to add any peanut butter truffles to your assortment?”

Woman: “I already got peanut butter.”

Me: “Actually we keep them back here, so you wouldn’t have gotten any yet.”

Woman: *pointing to the sign on the table, which happens to be right next to the bin of citrus flavored truffles* “I already got some right there!”

Me: “Oh. No, those ones are citrus. The sign is just there to—”

Woman: “Look, I already got peanut butter! They’re my favorite ones, I know what they look like, and I already GOT them!”

Me: “Very well…”

Woman: “I KNOW WHAT I GOT.”

Me: “Okay, then, your total today is $15.35…”

(I wish I could have been there when she popped the first “peanut butter” citrus truffle into her mouth when she got home.)

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