(I work as a banquet server in a hotel. We often do conference-style buffets, meaning we set everything up and then need to bus the tables as quickly as possible before the meeting starts. Upon passing one of the guests I notice a napkin and a used tea bag on her plate, which is slightly pushed away. Naturally, I attempt to clear it, and apparently, my coworker tried to do the same thing just minutes before.)

Lady: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “Oh, I am so sorry, ma’am; I thought you were done.”

Lady: “DON’T YOU TOUCH MY PLATE!” *scowl* “And get me your manager, now!“

Me: “Sure, right away, ma’am.”

Manager: “How may I help you?”

Lady: “The one with glasses—” *my coworker* “—and the skinny, [race] one—” *me* “—were trying to clear my plate while I WASN’T DONE WITH IT YET! I want them both fired!”

(She goes on a long rant about incompetent servers.)

Manager: “Okay, ma’am, I will talk to them.”

(We explained our side of the story. The manager just laughed and said that of course we were in no trouble whatsoever, since we did nothing wrong. Instead, he recounted the events to the party contact, who also happened to be the lady’s boss. She was appalled at her employee’s behavior and told him they would have a talk. I also proceeded to inform the rest of the servers about the lady, and we all agreed to stay as far away from her as possible during the next course, meaning that everyone’s plates got cleared except hers. The last thing I heard from her before bidding farewell to the entire group was more grumbling about “lazy servers who can’t even clear a plate.”)

(I’m working as a cashier on a very busy day. A thirty-year-old woman and her teenage daughter are my next to check out.)

Me: “Did you find everything you needed today?”

Customer: “Yes, we did.”

(The daughter leans over to whisper in her mom’s ear. She giggles some, and I just smile, even though I’m starting to feel self-conscious. The girl looks at me, laughs again, and then says something else to her mom.)

Customer: “I know. Later.”

(I go through the rest of the transaction with no issues. The customer is nice, although she keeps staring at my face. Finally, I give her her change and bags. This is when the lady takes something out of her purse and hands it to me.)

Customer: “Here. You could really use this. I offer specials to cases like yours.”

Me: “Oh. Thank you.”

(The daughter snickered and they left. I glanced at the business card. It was the customer’s acne care and beautifying business. That stayed with me for weeks. I was so embarrassed and upset!)

(I’m working on the checkout. The shop is quiet and I’m just tidying a bit behind the counter when a customer walks up to the self-serve machine. After scanning a few items, the customer starts gesticulating wildly and muttering under his breath.)

Me: “Can I help?”

Customer: “Why is it asking me about a bag? I don’t care about bags!”

Me: “Well, some customers use them, so it needs to ask so it can charge for them. If you’re not using one, so just hit zero and then enter.”

Customer: “Where do I do that?”

(I lean across to look at the screen and he’s still on the screen for scanning shopping.)

Me: “You need to press ‘finish and pay’ first.”

Customer: “I’ve literally tried that four times already.”

Me: “Well, let’s try it again and see if it works now.”

(It does. I walk him through the bag prompt again and go back to my till.)

Customer: “It’s just so impersonal! I hate the machines.”

(He keeps ranting as he walks towards the door, where he stops to complain to the security guard.)

Customer: “It’s just so impersonal! I’m never shopping here again!”

(He finally leaves.)

Me: “Next time, maybe, just walk up to my till?”

(I work at a large retail fabric and craft store. I am working register today. All available employees are at registers, except for two girls who are working at the cutting counter with their own long line. An older lady in line has been loudly clearing her throat and moaning the whole time she’s been in line. I’ve offered to let her sit until it’s her turn, thinking that she may be hurting. She turns her nose up at me and doesn’t say anything. She continues making noises the whole time. It just so happens she gets routed to my register.)

Me: “Hello! Did you find everything you needed today?”

Customer: “I did, no thanks to any of you.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. We usually have people on the floor, but with how busy it is they’re not always out. You can always ask at customer service, and they can try to direct you, just for future reference.”

Customer: *huffs* “Yes. I can tell you’re all working so hard.”

(It’s obvious she’s being sarcastic, but I say:)

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “And another thing! Why didn’t you call anyone else up to help at registers? You usually do that. I was trying to tell you that.”

(Apparently, that was what her noises meant.)

Me: “I’m sorry. We actually have everyone available at registers right now.”

Customer: “No, you don’t!”

Me: “We only have six workers today, and it has been unusually busy. I’m sorry for your wait.”

(She huffs again and rolls her eyes.)

Customer: “You’re obviously new, so I’ll explain. Go on your radio and call those two—” *points to the cutting counter* “—to come over here on register.”

Me: “Oh. They can’t actually come over, as they have their own line to worry about. We need them at cutting counter.”

(The customer just huffs again loudly and shakes her head. I finish ringing her out and she’s about to go on her way. Then she turns to the employee on the other register, who’s been here a long while.)

Customer: “Honestly! These young people have no sense these days. Tell your manager this one needs more training!”

(The other employee did end up reporting me without asking what happened. I explained to my manager, but she said I still should have told her about the complaint. I had to rewatch all the training videos, despite the fact that everyone said I did nothing wrong.)

(I work tech support in the US. I have a slight accent, but was raised in the US and have a degree from a US university.)

Me: “Good morning. [Company] technical support. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Are you in the US?”

Me: “Excuse me? We are a US company.”

Caller: “Yeah, but are you one of those Indian vendors? You are, aren’t you? I can tell you have an accent.”

(For the record, my accent is French.)

Me: “Ma’am, we are a US company, no subcontractors. I assure you I am working from the US.”

Caller: “Bulls***! This is why our country is going to Hell: because greedy little f***s like you are stealing all the American jobs. You aren’t even competent! You haven’t helped at all!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, perhaps if you would tell me what your problem is, I could help you.”

(The call degenerates from here, and she demands to speak to my manager… who is full-blood Navajo and also speaks with a slight accent.)

Manager: “Good morning. Can I help you?”

(I only heard screaming from the phone, obscenities, and yelling that he was not American. He hung up after getting documentation of her racist tirade.)

This story is part of our Native-American roundup.

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