Customer: “I see you’ve expanded your self-checkout area… again. At the expense of your human-operated checkout lanes… again.”

Me: “Well, not me personally, but yes, the store did add more self-checkouts as there seems to be a higher demand for them.”

Customer: “It’s so sad that this is where our country is heading. People don’t want to talk to each other anymore. Whatever happened to friendly human interaction?”

I scan her bread and pass it to the bagger. The customer immediately goes through a personality change.

Customer: “Don’t you dare put that in the bag first! It’ll get crushed, you moron!”

Bagger: “I was just putting it aside, ma’am. I wasn’t going to bag it—”

Customer: “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that now because I spoke up. You’re lucky I am here using the original checkout lanes and keeping you boys employed! If I used the self-checkouts, I’d be doing your job for you! Next time, I think I will — and I’ll demand an employee discount from the manager for doing your jobs for you!”

The next customer in line has had enough.

Next Customer: “Whatever happened to friendly human interaction?”

Customer: “They’re being incompetent!”

Next Customer: “They’re being lovely human beings. You’re being a monster. Just hurry up and let them finish so we can all get moving.”

Customer: *To me* “See what I mean? This country is getting worse. No one wants to have social interactions anymore!”

Next Customer: “If these last few minutes are an indication of what you’re like, then it’s no wonder you only have checkout operators to talk to.”

Customer: “Shut up!”

Next Customer: “I’m sorry you’re lonely, but it’s your problem, not the baggers’.”

Customer: *To me* “Make her shut up!”

Me: “Uh… how about we all just stop talking until it’s time to pay?”

Mercifully, everyone took my advice!

Related:
Self-Check Yourself Before You Self-Wreck Yourself, Part 7
Self-Check Yourself Before You Self-Wreck Yourself, Part 6
Self-Check Yourself Before You Self-Wreck Yourself, Part 5
Self-Check Yourself Before You Self-Wreck Yourself, Part 4
Self-Check Yourself Before You Self-Wreck Yourself, Part 3

I was creating a billboard for a client that had a trucking school. They sent me a logo, the copy, and a photo of two semi-trucks side by side at a three-quarter view. I created a billboard and sent them a sample.

Client: “The boss doesn’t want both trucks in the billboard. Can you take out the black one in front and just leave the red one in the back?”

Me: “Can you send me a photo with just the red truck?”

Client: “Sorry, that’s the way the photographer photographed them. We don’t have any of the red truck by itself.”

Me: “Can you get me the keys to the red truck?”

My hotel hosted a huge wedding all weekend. We also hosted the big rehearsal dinner, where the bride and groom got into a huge fight that ended up in the lobby with the bride screaming that she hated the groom, that his mother and sisters were horrible harpies, and that she was pregnant and she didn’t know if he was the father.

I was specifically told by management that if any guest from the wedding wanted to check out early not to charge them an early departure fee because the fight was that spectacular.

They then still actually had the wedding (why?!), and I’m told their reception was booked for two hundred people. About fifty showed up.

Some of the wedding guests (some parents and a roughly college-age son) decided to have a huge fight in the middle of the parking lot. It was so loud and aggressive that another guest called 911 on them.

Management wanted to know why I didn’t send security down to defuse it, but the first I heard of the issue was the police showing up; no one called us to complain, and security was dealing with an issue on the other side of the property.

While this was happening, the bride and groom got into another huge fight in the middle of the wedding reception, and the bride went home with her mom.

We were all so happy that the party wrapped up after that!

Related:
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 19
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 18
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 17
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 16
The More You Read The Worse It Gets, Part 15

I am working at the box office for a Broadway theater. We get a lot of tourists coming in with no bookings hoping to grab any spare seats, but it’s extremely hit-and-miss. If we do have some available, it’s one or two and usually not the best seats.

Our current production is proving popular as it stars an A-list Hollywood actor in their Broadway debut. It’s about a romance between a beekeeper and a quantum physicist, and the dialogue can get a bit heavy on the science.

A couple of tourists come in and ask me the usual question:

Customer: “Can we get two tickets for the show tonight?”

They said, “Can we get…” and not, “Are there any available?” They are just assuming there are last-minute spare tickets to a famous Broadway production on a Saturday night.

Me: “I’m afraid we’re totally sold out for this evening. If you’re looking for two tickets, we have some available at tomorrow’s matinee, but they aren’t together, and they are the final two available. If you’d like two together, we don’t have anything available until next week Tuesday.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous. You’re saying you’re sold out?!”

Me: “I’m afraid so. We are sold out for tonight.”

Customer: “Well, can we get some of the spare tickets?”

Me: “I’m sorry… Spare tickets?”

Customer: “You theaters always hold back some spares to be sold on the day or something!”

Me: “That is not the case here. Literally every seat is sold out for tonight’s performance.”

Customer: “I refuse to believe you don’t have any seats at all!”

Me: “We have zero seats available. None at all.”

Customer: “Look, just move some groups around or something, or designate one of the disabled seats as one for ‘normal people’ or whatever. Just get us two seats!”

I was being polite until now, but they just said that disabled people weren’t “normal” so the gloves have come off.

Me: “Sir, you should leave. I don’t think this play is suitable for you.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “Because this play delves deep into quantum physics and mathematics, and you can’t even figure out that zero does not equal two.”

Customer: “Get me your manager!”

Me: “Happy to.”

I pushed back from the box office desk and wheeled myself back to the phone using my wheelchair.

The tourists stared at me for a moment, tutted loudly, and just stormed off.

Related:
Math Is Your Friend, Part 16
Math Is Your Friend, Part 15
Math Is Your Friend, Part 14
Math Is Your Friend, Part 13
Math Is Your Friend, Part 12

A forty-something-year-old gentleman and a lady come in and sit at the bar.

Customer: “I’d like a gin martini for myself and my companion.”

I make it and serve it to him, but his face instantly drops. He looks absolutely insulted.

Customer: “What the f*** is this?!”

Me: “You ordered a gin martini, right?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “That’s what that is.”

Customer: “But this glass is so unmanly!”

Me: “That’s a martini glass, as in the glass that was literally designed for the drink you ordered.”

Customer: “Get me a manly glass. This glass is emasculating me!”

I made one in a rocks glass, and he was fine.