I am working where the back of the bar intersects with the kitchen opening where dishes are sent through for me to bring to the tables. I suddenly see a toddler walk up to the door to the kitchen and just push on through like she owns the place.

A busy working restaurant kitchen is no place for a toddler, so I rush over, get ahead of her, and shoo her back into the restaurant. Her mother sees me doing this and glares at me.

Mother: “It’s fine if she goes through. She’ll come out again when I call her.”

Me: “Uh… no? She’s not allowed in the kitchen.”

Mother: “She can go where her curiosity takes her. Leave the parenting to me!”

Me: “I would if you were doing any actual parenting. Keep her at your table, or you’re leaving.”

Cue the typical “how dare you”s and demands for managers. The manager is summoned, and I make sure to explain the situation before the mother can.

Me: “She let her young daughter wander into the kitchen unsupervised where we currently have lots of staff running around with hot oils, knives, and other dangerous kitchen equipment.”

Mother: “Now you’re making it sound like I’m a bad mother!”

Manager: “Funny that, isn’t it? Keep your daughter at your table, ma’am.”

Mother: “My child is allowed to roam!”

Manager: “Then take her to a park. This is a busy restaurant, and she needs to stay at your table, or you’ll be asked to leave.”

The mother audibly “hmphed” but kept her daughter close for the rest of their meal.

I am not a fan of children or babies. Yes, I know I started out as one, but that was enough for me, thank you very much.

A coworker in our office has recently had a baby and has brought the little one in for all her coworkers to “ooh” and “aah” at. She visits at an awkward time since I am actually covering for this coworker during her maternity leave, on top of all my other work, so I am very busy.

Office Manager: *Calling me over* “[My Name]! Come over here! [Coworker]’s brought in her baby!”

I look up from my work, smile, offer congratulations, and get back to my work.

Office Manager: “[My Name], stop that for a moment and just come and see how cute this baby is!”

Me: “I’m quite busy, thanks.”

Office Manager: “Oh, come on, [My Name]. Don’t you like babies?”

Me: “I do, but I’m not hungry right now, and I don’t think I could handle another one until dinner time.”

Office Manager: “…”

I got back to my work, and they brought the little thing nowhere near me.

We have a regular set of customers who are frequent “campers” — customers who stay seated long after they’ve paid their bill. To counter this, we put a sign up saying we’d appreciate it if customers left within fifteen minutes of settling the bill (which for a busy restaurant is VERY generous), but then, these regulars countered again by being super slow to settle the bill, even if they’ve stated they’re done ordering and the bill is sitting on their table, untouched.

Also, they’ve started doing this AFTER we have closed, forcing us to stay late just to take their payment. At this point, we’re sure they’re doing it as some sort of power move.

After a few months of this, my manager has had enough and approaches them, speaking bluntly while he removes the bill that’s been sitting there for almost half an hour.

Manager: “I’m just giving you your updated bill. Please settle it within the next few minutes and enjoy the rest of your day!”

Customer: “Pardon me? And what do you mean, ‘updated bill’? We didn’t order anything.”

Manager: “Yes, you haven’t ordered anything since finishing your meal half an hour ago. I am glad we are in agreement. Please settle the bill and be on your way.”

Customer: “You can’t kick us out until we’ve settled the bill, and we haven’t even asked for it yet!”

Manager: “Yes, but we also have a camping fee, and you’re being charged a dollar for every minute you stay past closing. Please, continue to sip that coffee slooooowly; our staff appreciates the extra tips.”

Customer: “You can’t do that!”

Manager: “Our place, our rules. Failure to pay the total bill will result in a call from the police, and we have your card details on file from previous visits; we remember you as you’re always the ones who keep us an hour past closing.”

Customer: “You can’t do that!”

Manager: “So, cash or card?”

The customers grumbled but paid the new bill. They left no tip, but the “camping fee” made up for that! And we never saw them again!

It’s 3:00 am at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere near the England and Scotland border. A customer has come in to buy some cigarettes but doesn’t have ID, so I refuse the sale.

Customer: “Seriously? I’m obviously in my sixties!”

Me: “I need to follow the rules of the job.”

Customer: “You need to do as you’re told, or I’ll have your job!”

Me: “You aren’t even qualified to be a customer.”

Customer: “That’s it. You just lost your job!”

Me: “Mate, I am working the graveyard shift at a petrol station. Please… try to get me fired.”

Customer: “This isn’t how you talk to customers!”

Me: “I’ve refused your sale; you’re not a customer.”

He swore at me and stormed out. Why do they always think that threat will work?

Related:
Minimum Wage, Minimum Effort, Part 3
Minimum Wage, Minimum Effort, Part 2
Minimum Wage, Minimum Effort

I have extremely long hair. It reaches my knees when it’s down, and I take extremely good care of it, spending a lot of time, energy, and money keeping it healthy and in great condition. So, it’s obviously pretty important to me, and even without talking to me, it’s obvious that I’m quite protective of it.

Usually, when I leave home, I put it up in a bun or some other protective style, but today I thought it looked really good and decided to leave it down for once. My husband and I went to a local cafe for breakfast, and as we were seated, I saw that across from us was a mother and her clearly very excitable young daughter. This was fine, obviously — they were just trying to enjoy their morning like I was — and I didn’t really pay much attention to them until I heard the girl say to her mother:

Girl: “Mommy, that lady’s hair is soooooo long! Can I play with it?”

I thought this was a weird request but didn’t really expect anything else to come of it until I heard the mother trying to get my attention. I turned to her.

Mother: “Can’t she braid your hair, please? It would keep her quiet!”

Me: “No, I’m not really comfortable with that.”

The girl immediately looked heartbroken, and her mom sighed and just looked tired.

Mother: “Why not? It’s just hair; let her play with it.”

I gave her my reasons: I don’t like people touching me, I don’t let people touch my hair, and there’s still a global health crisis going on (January of 2022) and I’d rather not get too close to strangers unless I absolutely have to. My husband even chimed in:

Husband: “She doesn’t even like me touching her hair very often.”

This was a lie — he’s one of the only people I’m comfortable with — but he was trying to help me get out of the conversation because he’s a sweetheart.

The girl kind of gave her mother a pleading look, but her mom just looked at her and said:

Mother: “The mean lady won’t let you.”

And she shot me a look of daggers.

Like, what the f***, dude? What did I do? Would you let strangers touch your hair, lady? I get that she was tired, but I was not in the wrong for keeping my boundaries in order.

It was a slight annoyance, but luckily, they were already most of the way through their meal by the time we arrived, so they weren’t there for too long. Still, a weird situation that made me overall uncomfortable.