(A customer approaches the cash desk with a console in a box.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking to trade this in?”

Me: “Sure, let me just make sure it works!”

(I open the box, only to find the entire console, wires, and control pads are covered in heavy condensation. It’s so heavy, that there are drops of water pouring down the system.)

Me: “Umm …I don’t think I can plug this in to check it.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, it’s soaking wet. Generally speaking, it’s not a good idea to combine water and electricity.”

Customer: “Ah, it’s just a tiny bit of condensation. I had it in the car overnight; that’s why.”

Me: “I still don’t think it’s safe, sir.”

Customer: “Go ask your manager; he’ll tell you it’s fine!”

(I decide to humor him, and take the console out back to the manager.)

Me: “So I’ve got this customer for trade in, and he wants me to plug this thing in and check it.”

Manager: *not looking up* “So what’s the problem?”

Me: “I think you should have a look and see what the problem is!”

Manager: *looks at the console* “Is he for real?!”

(The manager picks up the console, and it almost slips out of his hands from the liquid on the surface. He heads out to the customer and deals with him.)

Manager: “We can’t accept this for trade in. Sorry about that.”

Customer: “Ah, why not!? It’s only a tiny bit of condensation; I don’t know what the problem is!”

Manager: “Well, if you’re happy to plug in electronics that are dripping with water, be my guest, but you’ll be a candidate for the Darwin Awards if you do. I’m not happy to risk the personal safety of my employees just for a trade in.”

(The customer looks at the console again.)

Customer: “And what if I come back in 10 minutes, and it’s dry?”

Manager: “I think that’d be something of a miracle, don’t you?”

(I’m working on the checkouts when a customer around her 30s approaches with a large trolley.)

Me: “Hi, how are you?”

Customer: “Fine.”

(She starts loading her groceries onto the register and I start scanning. She then reaches into her bag to take something out. Not paying much attention, I continue scanning. The register belt moves closer to me and soon I see that she has placed a used sanitary pad on the register.)

Me: “Uh… ma’am? Is that from you?”

Customer: “Yes, why?”

Me: “Would you mind removing it from my register?”

Customer: “Why? Are you too lazy to throw it out yourself?”

Me: “Ma’am, that is a serious health hazard. Besides that, it isn’t in my job description to clean up after customers. I’m not touching that; please get it off my register.”

Customer: “I can’t believe how lazy you are!”

(The customer grabs the pad, storms over to the bin and throws it away before coming back to pay for her groceries. She leaves without a word. I close down my register, and wash my hands a dozen times.)

(I’m working at a restaurant that sells fried chicken. A customer approaches me after she has eaten her entire meal. The tray she’s carrying only has picked-clean chicken bones on it.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I ordered the white meat chicken meal, but got dark meat pieces instead. You need to give me a new meal.”

Me: “I’m sorry for the confusion, but the white meat chicken meal comes with a breast and wing, which is what you received.”

Customer: “No, you gave me a leg and a thigh. I paid extra for the white meat meal and I demand that you give me a replacement!”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry for the confusion, but as you can see by the chicken bones on your tray, this piece was a breast piece. See the rib bones here, and this piece was a wing.”

Customer: “Get me your manager NOW!”

(My manager has heard the interchange and cordially comes over.)

Manager: “I’m terribly sorry for the mistake, ma’am; here’s a replacement meal for you.”

(My manager hands her another white meat meal.)

Customer: “It’s about time!”

(After the customer leaves, having left the tray with the chicken bones on it, I turn to my manager.)

Me: “Why did she get a free replacement meal when it’s obvious that she got and completely ate what she ordered?”

Manager: *smiling sadly* “The customer always thinks they’re right, even when they’re wrong. And especially when all they want is to throw a fit for free food. I’ve learned it’s easier to just give them what they want than to try to convince them to be decent people.”

Me: “The customer is always right?”

Manager: “Even when they’re wrong!”

(I’m deaf in one ear, and what makes it worse at this time is that I have an ear infection. This makes it extremely difficult to take customer’s drinks correctly, especially if they are saying them very fast. I have only asked this customer once to repeat what the milk and syrup were.)

Customer: “Why do they have the least experienced person taking orders? How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am; I’m hearing impaired. I was only asking once again to make sure I charged you correctly and that your drink won’t be made wrong.”

Customer: *flustered* “Well, then you should have to wear a sign or something to let people know that you can’t hear.”

(The next customer in the queue chimes decides to chime in.)

Next Customer: “Yeah, because the poor girl probably doesn’t feel embarrassed enough about having you yell at her and having to put up with a**holes like you.”

Customer: “Excuse me?! How dare you! Forget my drink! I’ll just go somewhere else!”

(The customer storms out.)

Next Customer: “Wow, I’m so sorry about that. Do people normally act like that here?”

Me: “She’s a regular…”

(I usually work day shift, but my manager has asked me to work an evening shift to cover a staff absence. A coworker is getting cooked chicken strips out of the fryer to serve a customer, and he drops one on the floor. He throws it back into the fryer.)

Me: “Hey [Coworker], what are you doing?”

Coworker: “Freshening up the chicken.”

Me: “What? You’re not going to serve that, are you?”

Coworker: “Yup, it’s fine; you just need to fry it a bit.”

Me: “No you don’t! You need to throw it out and cook a new one!”

Coworker: “[Manager] said this was fine! The hot oil kills germs.”

Me: “No way!”

(I make him re-cook the order, and go find the manager and explain what happened.)

Manager: “[Coworker], what the h***! You do NOT serve food that’s been on the floor!”

Coworker: “You said that we didn’t have to follow hygiene for fried food; you said the hot oil kills germs. That’s what you told me.”

Manager: “I said you don’t need to wear gloves to handle frozen food that’s going in the fryer as long as you have washed your hands. What made you think it was okay to serve food that’s been on the floor?”

Coworker: “What’s the difference?”

Manager: “In the back. Now.”

(The scary thing? I’d eaten there in the evenings because I knew we had really good kitchen hygiene. At least, the day shift did…)