Me: “Hey, I’m trying to get your logo set up for embroidery, but I am missing some information. The notes say that the emblem should be hunter green and gold, but I need to know what color ‘gold’ you are referring to. We can do a metallic gold thread — which is not microwave-safe — or we can do a gold-colored thread — which looks gold and is microwave-safe, but it is not a metallic thread — or athletic gold thread — which is the golden rod color that sports teams use. Just let us know if you want metallic gold, gold-colored, or athletic gold. Thanks!”

Client: “Gold thread is fine.”

My dad is cleaning up and posts some stuff (old small furniture and the like) online as “free for pick-up”. He immediately gets a response from someone who is going to check the stuff out. After the meeting, my dad donates the stuff to the man.

The man asks if my dad is okay with him picking it all up over the spread of the next few days. When my dad asks why, the man says he has no car and has to use public transportation. My dad decides to just take the stuff to the man’s home.

Me: “Why did you do that when you stated it was ‘free for pick-up’?”

Dad: “It never hurts to help someone. And he was an old man, clearly over sixty. I just didn’t want him to hassle with this stuff.”

Fair enough, Dad. But… my dad is close to eighty years old!

You are as old as you feel you are, I guess?

A friend of mine owns a restaurant, which has not been easy during the past few years, as you can imagine. When the hard lockdowns fell and restaurants and bars could open again, there were some pretty rigid rules and very stiff fines.

One such rule was a curfew at 10:00 pm, and you’d better not break it because that fine was huge. Our president was actually hit with one and, to his credit, he paid it without questioning it and made a public apology for his misconduct.

As we were approaching 10:00 and people were ushered out of the restaurant, one person tried to come in.

Customer: “You open?”

Friend: “Nope, we’re closing. Curfew, 10:00 pm, no can do, sorry.”

Customer: “I just want a coffee.”

Friend: “Sorry, curfew.”

Customer: “C’mon, make an exception. I need one.”

Friend: “Sure, that will be €3,003.50.”

Customer: “What? Are you insane?”

Friend: “€3.50 for the coffee, and €3,000 for the fine I’ll have to pay for serving it. Take it or leave it.”

The man left — it and the restaurant.

I worked at a sandwich store in the early 1990s. The store did their own deliveries. An Army base was close by, and they were the majority of deliveries. We had this one regular guy who always had the same complaint.

Caller: “I didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

The next time he ordered, we put in one-and-a-half times the usual jalapeños without charging extra.

Caller: “You guys are either stupid or cheap! I still didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

After a few more complaints and rude words, I made his next order by pouring some of the jalapeño juice and tons of seeds from the jalapeño bin onto the bread.

The following week:

Caller: “Go light on jalapeños.”

I am a security guard at a sports stadium during a busy event. An angry-looking customer has left his seat and found me in the concourse.

Customer: “There are two perverts making a display of themselves for all to see!”

Shocked, I follow him and start looking around. I see no evidence of a “perverted display”. I ask him for details.

Customer: *Pointing* “Those two men! Right there!”

Me: “They’re just sitting down during halftime, sir. What am I supposed to be seeing here?”

Customer: “Well, they’re not doing it now, but earlier one got down on his knee and proposed to the other! At a football match! That’s obscene!”

Me: “So, you’re saying the perverted display was a couple getting engaged in public?”

Customer: “These two men should not be promoting their choices in front of a crowd, especially my children!”

Me: “Ah… So, it’s homophobia, then.”

Customer: “It is not homophobia, but they’re ramming it down our throats! All the time! I’m sick of seeing it!”

Me: “But you wouldn’t have had an issue if the couple proposing in front of everyone was straight?”

Customer: “Well… I…”

Me: “Sir, what I do next based on your complaint means you need to answer me honestly right now. Would you have an issue with any couple getting engaged at the stadium, or is it just that particular couple?”

Customer: “Look, I can see what you’re trying to do. I can see that you’re not sympathetic to my values so I would like to talk to the guy in charge.”

Me: “In charge of security?”

Customer: “Yes!”

I comply with his request and call over the head of security who is, by her own admission, the “butchest lesbian on the East Coast”. She is terrifying when she wants to be, and after I tell her why I have called her over, she comes by on a rampage. As soon as she approaches, I introduce her to the customer.

Customer: *To me* “This is the head of security?!”

Me: “As requested!”

Security Manager: “So, you’re the one whose masculinity was attacked by two men finding happiness?”

Customer: “That is no way to professionally deal with a complaint!”

Security Manager: “If you had a complaint, then I would take it seriously. You have a prejudice, and those I will mock like the useless wastes of oxygen that they are. Now, will you shut up and enjoy the second half of the game, or will I be doing some escorting today?”

The customer glares at us both but says he will try to focus on the game despite the obscene displays.

Security Manager: “Excellent! I’m going to enjoy watching the game myself from riiiiiight here, just to make sure that all our valued guests can also enjoy the rest of the game without anyone causing a scene.”

She does as she said she would, and the bigot leaves his seat a few minutes before the end of the game. He mutters something about sexuality being a choice and how we shouldn’t defend that choice.

Manager: *Shouting out to him as he leaves* “Oh, my God! It’s a choice! Why didn’t you tell me? That would have saved me years of homelessness after being kicked out! Wow… I learned something new today!”

I love working with her.