High On Coffee, Low On Everything Else

| Vancouver, BC, Canada | Food & Drink, Theme Of The Month, Wild & Unruly

(I work at a small coffee shop outside a shopping center. There is a regular who is known for being very rude and ignorant about his wealth. I am a 17-year-old girl, who has recently got this job.)

Me: “Hello, sir, welcome to [coffee shop], what woul—”

Regular: *aggressively* “Coffee!”

Me: “Okay, what ki—”

Regular: “Dumb b**** lowlife! I said coffee!”

Me: “Sir, please don’t use that language here.”

Regular: “For f***’s sake! This is why I am rich, and you work at a dump like this! Probably so you can buy your drug money!”

Me: “Sir, I—”

Regular: “B****! WE SHOULD TAKE ALL YOU LOWLIFES, AND BURY YOU LIKE MAGGOTS!”

Me: *tearing up* “Sir, plea—”

Regular: “SHUT UP YOU FILTHY W**** B****! AND MAKE ME MY D*** COFFEE!”

(My manager comes running out to see what’s going on. Before he can speak up, a small old lady next in line starts speaking.)

Old Woman: “Now listen here, you ignorant rat! This woman has barely had a chance to speak! If we did what you said, and got rid of the lower classes, who would change your god-d*** diapers, and make you your morning cup of coffee?”

Regular: “D*** you! I uh…” *turning to me* “I want my coffee, NOW!”

Manager: “NO, YOU CAN LEAVE MY STORE BEFORE I CALL THE COPS!”

(The regular turns even more red, and runs out of the store. My manager gives me the rest of the day off, as well as a free meal. The old woman also leaves me a $20 tip!)

Going Loco(motive)

| Sacramento, CA, USA | Criminal & Illegal, Top, Transportation

(I work security at a light rail. The last light rail heading south comes through my station at 11:38 pm. It is currently 11:50 pm.)

Patron: “Excuse me, officer, when is the next light rail heading south supposed to come?”

Me: “Sorry, sir, the last light rail heading south left at 11:38. There are no more running till tomorrow morning at 5:30 am.”

Patron: “Bull-s***! I always catch the light rail later than this. You are full of s***! Just tell me when the next one is coming.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, their are no more coming tonight. I have been working at this particular station for six months, and can assure you that no more are coming tonight.”

Patron: “Well, how the h*** are you getting home?”

Me: “Well sir, when my shift ends, I drive myself home.”

Patron: “Well, you’re gonna have to drive me home then.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, I will not be able to do that. If you would like I can call you a cab. But there are no more light rails heading south tonight.”

Patron: “Aren’t you security? You have to give me a ride home. It’s not my fault the f****** light rail stopped running early. Give me a f****** ride home.”

Me: “No, sir, I will not give you a ride home. Unfortunately there are no light rails running south anymore, and if you are not catching the light rail north or east, I am going to have to ask you to leave, due to a no loitering law on the light rail stations.”

Patron: “Bull-s***! I ain’t going nowhere if you don’t give me a ride!”

Me: “Sir, if you refuse to leave, I am going to be forced to radio the light rail police.”

Patron: “Call the mother-f****** police. I don’t give a f***!”

(I go through with his “request” to call the police. When they arrive, he demands they give him a ride, and continues to refuse to leave. They end up giving him a ride—to jail.)

Saved From Traffic, Not Trafficking

| OR, USA | Crazy Requests, Family & Kids, Top

(I work in the parking lot, helping customers load their vehicles and push carts back to where they belong. I am the only one out on the lot at the moment. A boy runs out into the lot next to me, into the middle of the road.)

Boy: “Die bug!”

(I see something moving out of the corner of my eye. When I look, there’s a car driving very fast through the lot. It is heading straight for the boy.)

Me: “Oh, crap!”

(I run into the road, pick up the child, and dive out of the way. I use my body as a cushion for him. My back hits a rack of plants, knocking them over, and sending pain through my back. The boy’s mother comes rushing over.)

Boy’s Mother: “Oh, my God! WHAT THE H*** ARE YOU DOING WITH MY CHILD!?”

Me: “First of all, I’m okay, and so is he. Second of all, he just about got ran over.”

(I painfully stand up, and let the child go to his mother, who clings to her.)

Boy’s Mother: “I want to see your manager now!”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am.”

(I go and find my manager, and explain to her what happened. The manager understands and goes to the service desk where the boy and his mother now wait. I follow behind and listen in.)

Manager: “So, I hear you have a problem with one of my employees?”

Boy’s Mother: “You’re d*** right I do! He tried to steal my baby!”

Manager: “I assure you that’s not what happened. From what my employee has told me, he saw the child run into the street, chasing a bug. He noticed a car driving at unsafe speeds through the parking lot at the child.”

Boy’s Mother: “That’s what he wants you to think!! I saw no car!”

Manager: “What happened when you noticed my employee with your child?”

Boy’s Mother: “He knocked over the plant racks out front with his back!”

Manager: “And he did this while holding your child?”

Boy’s Mother: “YES! You get it!”

Manager: “Not quite. Follow me with this please. Why would my employee do that when he has the most chance of getting caught? It would draw a lot of attention to himself.”

Boy’s Mother: “He… he was… I don’t know.”

Manager: “The only reason I could think of him doing that is if he had to get out of the way of something fast. Or, if your child was in danger of being hit by a car going 40 miles per hour through the parking lot.”

Boy’s Mother: “Well maybe you should control the cars speeding through your lot more! Hmph!”

(She takes her son and walks out in a huff. Later on, at the end of my shift, the mother and her son approach me on the way out.)

Boy’s Mother: “There you are! I’ve been looking for you!”

Me: “Ma’am, I promise you; I wasn’t trying to kidnap your child!”

Boy’s Mother: “I know that. But my son has something to say to you.”

Boy: “Thank you for saving my life.”

(He hands me a thank you card.)

Me: “No problem, little man. Promise me something?”

Boy: “Okay?”

Me: “Don’t go playing in the street. When you go somewhere, stay next to your mom. That’s the safest place you can be. Can you do that?”

Boy: “I promise!”

Boy’s Mother: “Thank you again. I can’t thank you enough. I also came back to talk to your manager. Are you on lunch?”

Me: “I’m off work now, actually.”

Boy’s Mother: “Good, then I can make it a surprise!”

(The mother walks into the store. I wonder what she means, but I figure I’ll find out the next day, and go home. The next day, I open up the store, and find out from my manager that someone gave me a glowing review of my work ethics!)