(I am chatting online with a representative of a company about a faulty order we just received. They have agreed to send a replacement order and credit back a portion of the original purchase price.)

Representative: “Please allow me five minutes to replace the order.”

Me: “Thank you so much. I really appreciate all your help.”

Representative: “No problem. I have issued a refund of $100 to your credit card on file. This may take 305 business days to reflect on your account.”

Me: “305?”

Representative: “Yes. Please remain in the chat until I have completed the order.”

Me: “305 days?”

Representative: “Yes. Is the shipping address still the same?”

Me: “Yes. So it may take up to a year for us to see the money?!”

Representative: “Oh my gosh I am so sorry! 3-5 days.”

Me: “Haha, oh okay.”

Representative: “I am so sorry.”

Me: “Don’t be; that kind of made my day!”

I worked my way through college waiting tables at a restaurant in a mall just south of Indianapolis. The money wasn’t great, but it was enough and I needed a job with really flexible hours.

One evening, I’m given a five-top that’s a couple of parents and their three boys. I come by to introduce myself and the father introduces himself as a local minister there with his family. He mentions they’ve been given a $500 gift card from his congregation. I set about taking care of them and they go for a good sized meal; drinks, a few shared appetizers, main courses and even desserts.

All things considered, they aren’t a terrible table, but I did have to push two tables together which made my section smaller.

At the end the minister asks about using the gift card and I tell him it works just like a credit card. I run it through and return the slip. I hand it to him and he shakes my hand and tells me what an excellent job I did for him and his family and then they’re all out the door. I go back to help bus the table and pick up the credit card slip.

When I find it, I see it’s been signed with a big zero for the tip. I turn and watch them walk to their car out the window in total amazement. I got a hand shake for how well I’d done serving them their free meal and they didn’t give me a cent.

I know it’s not the worst burn — I’d seen people get worse — but it was the first time I was dumbstruck by getting stiffed.

(The phone rings.)

Customer: “You f****** idiots broke my truck!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “DIDN’T YOU F****** HEAR ME? YOU. BROKE. MY. BRAND. NEW. TRUCK!”

Me: *remaining calm* “Can you please tell me what happened?”

Customer: “I was in on Saturday and filled with diesel. It started to make an awful noise and isn’t f****** running right. The mechanic said there is water in the diesel and now you have to f*****fix my f****** truck, you d*** c***!”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, sir, but if we had water in our diesel, we would have had a lot more complaints that just yours. I will transfer you to my manager; please give me one moment.”

(I cut off the customer before he could say anything. My manager got the time he was in a few days before and all of his information. My manager hung up on him after a few death threats and more foul language. When we looked at the camera, the guy had put a whole jug of DEF into his gas tank, which is about 60% water and which YOU DO NOT MIX WITH FUEL. The police got a copy of the video along with his name and license plate. Oddly enough, we never had to deal with him again.)

(I work as a telephone and radio operator. I’m responsible for giving jobs out to drivers and taking bookings. In the early evening, I get a call from a fairly young boy.)

Me: “[Taxi Company].”

Kid: “Yeah, I need a taxi, please, as soon as possible. We need to go out within about ten minutes.”

Me: “Okay. What’s the address?”

Kid: “It’s [Address].”

Me: “That’s great, but I don’t recognise you.”

Kid: “Sorry?”

Me: “I don’t recognise your voice at all. I’ve only got two children, as far as I know, and neither of them sound like you.”

Kid: “What?”

Me: “You’ve just requested a taxi from [Address], right?”

Kid: “Yeah.”

Me: “And that’s where you live?”

Kid: “Yeah.”

Me: “That’s where I live, too. Why would you want a taxi from my house?”

(The kid immediately hung up. I phoned my wife, and apparently she’d had a taxi driver knock on the door after waiting outside for five minutes. The kid had sent one car from at least four different companies to our address. No idea where they’d got our address, or why they were doing it, but they stopped after phoning me!)

Did you find this story using our Taxi Diver roundup?

Click here to read the next story!

Click here to get back to the roundup!

I worked my way through college waiting tables at a restaurant in a mall just south of Indianapolis. The money wasn’t great, but it was enough and I needed a job with really flexible hours.

One evening, I’m given a five-top that’s a couple of parents and their three boys. I come by to introduce myself and the father introduces himself as a local minister there with his family. He mentions they’ve been given a $500 gift card from his congregation. I set about taking care of them and they go for a good sized meal; drinks, a few shared appetizers, main courses and even desserts.

All things considered, they aren’t a terrible table, but I did have to push two tables together which made my section smaller.

At the end the minister asks about using the gift card and I tell him it works just like a credit card. I run it through and return the slip. I hand it to him and he shakes my hand and tells me what an excellent job I did for him and his family and then they’re all out the door. I go back to help bus the table and pick up the credit card slip.

When I find it, I see it’s been signed with a big zero for the tip. I turn and watch them walk to their car out the window in total amazement. I got a hand shake for how well I’d done serving them their free meal and they didn’t give me a cent.

I know it’s not the worst burn — I’d seen people get worse — but it was the first time I was dumbstruck by getting stiffed.