Beaten By A Minor Key

, , , , , | Right | April 3, 2020

(I am male and work at a small music store. As well as music, we sell instruments, including upright pianos. A middle-aged, balding customer enters and makes a beeline for the uprights.)

Customer: “God d*** it, I’m so f****** good at the piano! You just sit your d*** a** down and listen to me play!”

(He begins to play Beethoven’s Sonata Op. 10 No. 1, which is an impressive piece, although I wouldn’t be surprised if an eighteen-year-old could play it. The man appears to be drunk, so I say nothing about his talent and listen to the piece as he requested.)

Customer: “I’m so f****** good at the piano that you should give me this piano for free to show your appreciation for my motherf****** amazing talent!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, I can’t do that.”

Customer: “Why the f*** not?”

Me: “Well, sir, because this piano costs a lot of money, and I can’t just give it away for free. Also, if you keep using that kind of language, I’ll have to remove you from the store.”

Customer: “What the f***, you…”

(As the customer rants at me for not giving him the upright for free, a gorgeous young girl who looks about fifteen approaches.)

Girl: “Sorry, I think I can solve this situation. If I can sight read this piece better than you just played it, you don’t get the piano for free. Deal?”

(The customer grumbles a bit but eventually agrees. The girl sits down and plays the piece with much more expertise and fewer mistakes than the customer did, even adding in little comments like, “In this part, you’ve got to be as sassy as humanly possible,” and, “I’d use pedal here, but not where the sequence repeats, just to shake it up a bit.”

The customer gripes and groans but finally leaves the store. I tell my manager and he gives her half off her entire purchase. As she is leaving, she drops this bomb.)

Girl: “I’m glad he fell for it. I wasn’t really sight reading. I haven’t played the piece since I was nine, though, so I guess it counts!”

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Not Handling This Well

, , , , , | Right | April 3, 2020

I am a massage therapist at a hotel spa on the beach. Yesterday, I had a client who was scheduled for an eighty-minute Swedish massage. That is almost an hour and a half of being in an enclosed, private room with me essentially rubbing over 80% of a client’s body with my hands. 

With the viral situation, our numbers have obviously dropped as people aren’t traveling as much and are scared. Unfortunately for me, that means that this lady is my first and only client of the day.

At her scheduled appointment time, I walk up to her and greet her while holding my hand out to shake hers. She immediately held her hands close to her body.

 Client: “I don’t shake hand!”

 Me: “O…kay.”

 I brush it off, and continue.

 Me: “Have you chosen a scent for your massage?”

 She then picks up each one of our six scent testers, with her hands, and brings them right up to her nose where she breathes in and out… like every other person who had ever been in our spa.

When I finally get her back to the room and on the table, I ask at the beginning of the massage:

 Me: “Would you like your hands avoided?”

 Client: “No. Just don’t touch my face.”

So you won’t shake my hand, but you’re comfortable with me putting my hands all over you and breathing on you?

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Haggling: The Game

, , , | Right | April 3, 2020

(It is the holiday season. The store has been very busy with last-minute shoppers.)

Me: “Hi, what can I do for you today?”

Customer: “How much is [Game System]?”

Me: “Currently, £299, but there is a bundle with an extra controller and two games for only £350.”

Customer: “I’ll give you £10 for the bundle.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You heard me. £10 for the extra stuff.”

Me: “I’m afraid not. The price is £350 for the bundle and no less.”

Customer: “You drive a hard bargain. Tell you what. I’ll stretch to £50.”

(I am getting skeptical looks from my fellow cashiers and a large queue is forming.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the price is not up for negotiation.”

Customer: “This is unacceptable. No one in this mall has been willing to sell me anything!”

Other Customer: “Yeah, because this isn’t a d*** market stall!”

(The customer stormed out muttering. Turns out that he actually rang head office to complain about me. He did not get far.)

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Pooling Together All The Bad Behavior

, , , , | Right | April 3, 2020

(I’ve been working at this pool for over five years, and since I’m now in college I only work when back home on breaks. A colleague warns me about a new patron who thinks he’s above the rules. A few days later, I get to meet him.)

Me: “Hello, sir!”

(The patron grunts and pulls his tiny two-year-old daughter, still in street clothes, around to the side of the pool and around the corner, past me and my line of vision. A few minutes later, I hear strange noises and go to investigate. I find him by the metal bleachers, attempting to use our rope lane to TIE HIS DAUGHTER UP LIKE A DOG.)


(I rush over and untie the girl. He glares at me.)

Customer: “What am I supposed to do? Last time, the guard refused to watch her!”

Me: “That’s because we’re not a daycare, sir. We are lifeguards and we need to watch the pool and swimmers, not your child. There is a daycare center right upstairs.”

Customer: “They charge $35 an hour! You expect me to pay that? YOU JUST WANT MORE MONEY!”

Me: “I don’t care about money, sir. I care about keeping my pool safe. Either leave or take her to the daycare, or she swims with you.”

Customer: “FINE!”

(He begins ripping off his daughter’s clothes right there on the pool deck, leaving her in only a diaper. Diapers are ABSOLUTELY not allowed in our pool; only swim diapers can go in.)

Me: “Sir… She’s wearing a diaper; she can’t go in. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”


(He picks her up and attempts to RUN to the pool. I step in front of him and block his path.)

Me: “Sir! If you attempt to get any closer to my pool, I will have them tear up your membership! You do not yell here, you do not run, you do not bring diapers in, and above all else, you do not ignore the lifeguard! You need to leave for today; you can come back when you’re ready to obey the pool rules.”

(He glares down at me for a minute. I stand my ground, even though he’s three times my size, and he eventually gathers up his stuff and leaves, mumbling under his breath. I talk to my boss after my shift and he tells me to call him down next time the guy comes in, as he’s been a huge troublemaker. A week later:)

Me: “Uh-oh. He’s back.”

Coworker: “Crap. You’re the senior guard; what do you want me to do?”

Me: “Call [Boss] and tell him who’s here.” 

(My coworker goes into the guard office to make the call while I watch the man. Today he has his daughter from before, and an older daughter, who is mentally impaired and cannot move on her own, in a large stroller. Both girls are fully clothed. He walks over to me and holds up a swim diaper.)

Customer: *annoyed* “Is this the right thing for swimming?”

Me: “Yes, sir! Your daughter will be able to accompany you in the pool while wearing that! If you just take her in the locker rooms to change, I’m sure you’ll all have a great time!”

(He grunts and heads back over to his kids and starts taking off their clothes in the middle of the pool deck.)

Me: “Sir? Could you take them into the locker rooms and change them there, please? We—”


(My coworker returns from the phone call.)

Coworker: “There are men out here in the pool…”

(He ignores us and continues to change his kids right there. My coworker tells me that our boss is on his way back from lunch and to keep the pool safe until then. The man gets into the lap lane with his daughters, and I decide to let it slide since there’s no one in the lap lanes and to keep the man from blowing up.

He has a hold of both of them for a while, playing with both, and then he deposits the two-year-old on the lane line — which is the plastic rope used to divide the pool into sections — and sticks a foam noodle each under the paralyzed girl’s neck and legs. He then begins swimming laps away from them. My coworker and I sprint over and snatch both girls out of the water before they go under, right in time for my boss to show up.)

Boss: “What the h*** is going on here?!”

(We explain what just happened, and we are directed to go fill out incident reports and leave the kids with my boss. We’re filling them out in the office as man swims back toward my boss and his daughters, emerges, notices the situation, and begins arguing with my boss. There is some yelling that we can’t hear, and then:)

Customer: “Well, f*** you, then! I’m getting my own pool, and I will swim in that and never come back here, and you will be sorry!”

Boss: “Fine with me! Get out and don’t come back!”

(The man leaves and my boss comes to the office, muttering.)

Coworker: “You okay, boss?”

Boss: “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him anymore; I’m tearing up his membership.”

Me: “Is he really getting his own pool? I feel like he should be banned from pools everywhere.”

Boss: “I doubt it; he probably just wanted to sound important. And if he does, when his kids nearly drown, he’ll see just how important lifeguards and rules are!”

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Watch How You Are Tree-ted

, , , , | Right | April 2, 2020

(A woman came in yesterday telling us that she had a tree that died that she wanted to return. Our head cashier and acting manager said that we would accept a return and give her 50% back so long as she had the receipt and the tree, and that it was within one year of the purchase, because it’s our policy.

I am called to the register today because the lady has come in and is causing a scene, and the management in that day is different from yesterday’s.)

Manager: “[My Name], what did [Other Manager] say about this nice woman’s return?”

Me: “One year, 50% back if you have the tree and receipt. Why?”

(The customer has her daughter with her, who has named and taken care of the tree.)

Customer: “That is not what she said! She said I would get 100% back!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m sure she didn’t; she’s our head cashier and she’s been working here since I made our policy.”

(He points to the placard on the wall with said policy on it.)

Manager: “It’s even right here.”

Customer: “I know what she said! You guys are trying to rip me off.”

Manager: “Okay, give me a second.”

(He calls our head cashier — even though it’s her day off — and hands the phone to the woman, who only gets even more disgruntled and then turns to me.)

Me: “She may have said we’d take care of things 100%. She says things like that.”

Manager: “That’s true. Ma’am, how can we help you out with this?”

Customer: “Well, I want 100% back! I’ve been attacked since I walked up here!”

(She turns to her daughter who is staring intently at the ground.)

Customer: “Hasn’t he been attacking me?”

(The daughter shrugs and my manager, who has been amazingly calm the whole time, stands aghast and excuses himself. Another cashier takes over.)

Me: “Ma’am, would you at least like me to dispose of the dead tree for you?”

Customer: No! I don’t know if I want to do business with you yet!”

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