I’m relating my medical history to a doctor I’ve never seen before. He’s wrapped up the visit and is typing the report, and he’s already had two phone calls in the meanwhile.

Doctor: *Typing* “…and when did you have the hysterectomy?”

Me: “I don’t remember which year. It could have been… 2016, 2017. I’m not sure.”

Doctor: *Still typing* “Okay, I’ll put in 2016. But it was after the pregnancy, anyway, correct?”

Me: “I’m quite sure it was after the pregnancy, doc.”

Doctor: *Pauses* “Oh.”

It’s a hard time to be a doctor.

My family owns a restaurant in the city. We are offering food for people in need and the homeless in these crazy health-scare times.

A man comes into the store on his second visit here. I realize during his first visit that he is mute and types on his phone to communicate with me. During his first visit, he asked many questions like, “How many employees does this restaurant have?”, and so on. I thought it was odd but not too bad. He asked for the food for the people-in-need special and left soon afterward.

Today, his second visit, he comes to ask for food again. He types on his phone and shows me that he’s asking for food.

Me: “Sure! Let me grab that for you.”

I start to pack food for him when I notice he’s heading to the front door, which he then locks. I see this and I start to inwardly freak out. Why would he lock the door?!

Me: “Please unlock the door.”

Customer: *Gesturing* “What?”

Me: “Unlock the door. You’re making me really uncomfortable.”

He unlocked the door and walked out. I ran to the back and told my dad what happened. 

I’m still a bit shaken. It was such a small thing, but I am manning the front by myself and I don’t know who he is. I didn’t want to be on the six o’clock news.

A customer has come in who I refer to as the “freebie guy.” He basically comes in once a month during matinee hours, spends $5 on a ticket, and then demands you give him free food at the concession stand because he’s “spending so much of [his] money on tickets.” We tell him every time that he can’t have free concessions, but it doesn’t stop him.

I decide to have a little fun with him one day. We offer free jalapenos for our nachos at the concession stand.

Freebie Guy: “Give me something for free! What can you give me for free? I just spent a lot of money on my ticket!”

Me: *With a giant smile* “You know, we actually do have something I can give you today for free! Do you want it?”

His eyes widen in excitement, as this is the first time his ruse appears to have worked.

Freebie Guy: “Yes! Absolutely!”

I run into the back and come back with a big bowl full of jalapeños.

Me: “Here you go!”

Immediately, his excitement fades.

Freebie Guy: “What the h*** is that?”

Me: “Jalapeños! It’s the only thing we have for free now.”

Freebie Guy: “Just jalapeños?”

Me: “Yup! Jalapeños! We finally found something we could give you for free!”

He seems to have some sort of internal debate with himself. Finally, he picks up the bowl.

Freebie Guy: “Um… do you have a spoon?”

Me: “Nope!”

He slowly walked away from the stand looking utterly confused. A few minutes later, I saw him throwing away the bowl of jalapeños, and he stormed up to the concession stand and bought a drink because his mouth was burning from actually trying to eat them. I consider this to be a big win, and he hasn’t tried his “Give me free stuff!” schtick ever since.

I am a manager at a bridal dress shop and have gotten the brunt of the calls every time this customer calls, yells, and gets escalated.

Me: “Hello, [Store], how can I serve you?”

Mother Of The Bride: “I’m really upset! I ordered a mother-of-the-bride dress for my upcoming daughter’s wedding and it hasn’t arrived yet!” 

Me: “I’m sorry about that; let me look into this.”

I do some digging and find some info for her.

Me: “Miss, the dress you ordered is being specially ordered. It will arrive in four weeks, which will be around [date]. Will this be an inconvenience? We can cancel your order and try to find something suitable in time for your daughter’s wedding.”

Mother Of The Bride: *Suddenly calm* “No, no. I really want that dress! How come it takes so long?”

Me: “It is a limited-edition item. The manufacturer only made a small amount from the factory as a seasonal purchase. The company is sold out, I’m afraid, but it looks like we had to special order it for you. That is why it takes four weeks for delivery.”

Mother Of The Bride: “That is fine. Just call me when it arrives so I can pick it up.”

Me: “We certainly will, in four weeks.”

One week later, the phone rings.

Mother Of The Bride: *Yelling* “How come no one called me that the dress is here?”

Me: “It has only been one week, miss. It is a special order that takes up to four weeks to arrive. You won’t hear from us until sometime around [date]. If this is too long, we can help you find another dress to wear for the wedding.”

Mother Of The Bride: “No, no. I want that dress. Just call me when it arrives.” *Hangs up*

Second week. The phone rings.

Mother Of The Bride: “Okay, now I’m really mad! No one is calling me that the dress is here!”

Me: “Miss, I told you that it’s a special order that will arrive now within two weeks since you last called. Look, this dress won’t arrive until that time. Why don’t we get you a different dress? Or I can cancel the order and refund your money.”

Mother Of The Bride: “No, no. I really want that dress. Just call me when it arrives!” *Hangs up*

Third week…

Mother Of The Bride: “This is ridiculous! What kind of business are you running? No one is calling me about my dress order arriving! I’ve talked to six managers in your store, and they keep telling me that the dress is not there yet? I want answers!”

Me: “Miss, you talked to six different managers and the answer is still the same. The dress will be delivered around [date] and no sooner, because it is being specially ordered for you.”

Mother Of The Bride: “At least check to see where it is now!”

Me: *Sighing internally* “Let me see what I can do.”

I phone the Special Ordering department to see the progress of this dress, and do you know what I discover? SHE CALLED THEM AND CANCELLED HER ORDER! I’m furious, because now she’s just playing mind games with us. We’ve had her screeching in our ears every week, and she cancelled her order but somehow still expects said order to arrive?!

I phone her back.

Mother Of The Bride: *In a fake sweet voice* “Hello.”

Me: “Miss, I just called the Special Ordering department. They informed me that you called them and cancelled your order on [date two days ago]. Obviously, it is not going to arrive.”

Mother Of The Bride: “What?! That’s a lie! No, I didn’t! I need you to reorder it so I can have the dress in time for my daughter’s wedding! You have to reorder it again!”

Me: “Let me get this straight. You want the dress after all? At this point, we will have to charge you a rush fee.”

Mother Of The Bride: “I don’t care! Just get me that dress and get to me fast!” *Click*

In the end, we reordered the dress again for rush delivery and received it. She got her dress, and it still took EXACTLY four weeks of waiting for it to arrive.

I feel bad for the future groom, since he is marrying into the family with a crazy mother-in-law who enjoys playing mind games with people. If you read this, run, buddy! Run!

An older lady, about sixty, comes into the café by herself for lunch. She orders our chicken Caesar salad.

Our version of the salad isn’t traditional; it has lettuce mix, tomato, red onion, cucumber, croutons, parmesan cheese, diced bacon, grilled chicken breast pieces, and Caesar dressing. We know it’s different, which is why it says exactly what the salad involves right on our lunch menu. Even though it’s not the traditional recipe, we get a lot of comments on how much the customers enjoy it.

When this lady receives her meal, she immediately starts to complain to my coworker.

Customer: “This isn’t a chicken Caesar salad!”

Coworker: “Oh, I’m sorry. Did the kitchen make the wrong meal for you? Let me take that back and—”

Customer: “No, no, no. What I mean is, this isn’t how you make it. I’m a chef. This is my profession. You don’t put tomato and onion in a Caesar salad!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, but the menu does list exactly what goes in the dish. If you didn’t want a particular thing, we could have made it without it for you.”

Customer: “Well, I didn’t read the menu! Why would I do that? I want my money back. This salad is ridiculous.”

Coworker: “If you like, we can make another for you.”

Customer: “No! I’m a chef! I don’t want your terrible salad.”

And so on…

My coworker told the boss, who wasn’t too happy, especially since the customer admitted that she didn’t read the menu. The boss basically told her in polite language that her being a chef didn’t mean a d*** thing to him and that if she wasn’t going to read the menu, then it wasn’t the restaurant’s fault that she got something she didn’t want. She got extremely rude and stormed off.

I had a chuckle and figured it was the last we would hear from her. Almost, but not quite.

I walked in a few days later with a coworker, and the boss thrust an envelope into my hands with a look that said, “Can you believe this?!” Confused, I opened it up, and what did I find? Page upon page of chicken Caesar salad recipes! 

She had the nerve to take the time to copy down at least a dozen different recipes, look up our address in the phone book, and put it all in the post. She included a letter demanding that we correct our menu using the “proper” recipe for a chicken Caesar salad.

Lucky for her, she didn’t leave a return address, because [Boss] was fuming! 

As far as we know, she never had the gall to show up to see whether our business had changed its menu to suit her demands.