(The reception desk at our hotel has a bell one can ring if there isn’t a member of staff present. On this particular day, however, I’m working the desk and therefore see this person the instant he comes into the lobby.)

Me: “Good afternoon, sir! Are you—”

Man: “Whoa, hold on there! You’re not supposed to speak to me yet!”

(He hits the bell to make it ring.)

Man: “Okay, now you can address me.”

Me: “Uh, that’s not what the bell is for, but okay. Are you checking in?”

Man: “Yes” *gives reservation details*

Me: “Excellent. I just—”

Man: “No! We just went over this!” *rings the bell* “Now you can speak!”

Me: “…I need a credit card for the reservation.”

(He turns away to search his carry bag. I take this opportunity and move the bell under the desk.)

Man: “Okay, here…” *notices* “Hey, where’s the bell?”

Me: “It’s not needed while I’m here, sir. It’s only to alert the receptionist that a guest is at the desk while they’re in the back room or working on the computer.”

Man: “Give me back the d*** bell!”

Me: “I won’t, sir. I’m right here, and it’s not to be abused just to signify when I can speak to you.”

Man: “Fine!” *smacks the desk with his hand* “DING DING! Okay, now, where are my keys?”

Me: “Right here. Our check out policy is—”

Man: “Nooooo…” *smacks the desk again* “DING DING! Okay, now, what were you about to say?”

(I quickly go through the rest of the check in process and send him on his way, adding a note about his bizarre behaviour. True to form we had to take the bell off the desk again when he checked out, and he did the same schtick of hitting the desk, pretending like it was still there.)

Customer: “I want a hazelnut cappuccino.”

Me: “Okay, just to be sure, did you want a latte or a cappuccino? Cappuccinos have less milk and more foam.”

Customer: *usually with a look of pure smugness* “No, I want a cappuccino.”

(I make their drink with all the extra foam. It is served in the same size cups as the lattes.)

Customer: “Excuse me! This was only like two mouthfuls! Why wasn’t my drink full?”

Me: “As I mentioned, cappuccinos are made with less milk and more foam. Lattes, however, are made with the cup filled with steamed milk.”

Customer: “Oh, I wanted a latte.”

(Working at a popular fast food restaurant, I get a customer come up to my till.)

Me: “Hi, can I take your order?”

Customer: “Just a cheeseburger, please.”

(I tell him the price, take the money, and give him his burger. The customer comes rushing back looking sick.)

Me: “Is everything all right?”

Customer: “I asked for a f***ing cheese burger.”

Me: “Yes, that’s what I gave you.”

Customer: “This has meat on it. I’m a f***ing vegetarian; I wanted just the cheeseburger.”

Me: “All burgers come with meat unless asked to be removed.”

Customer: “You should have known because I asked for a CHEESE burger.”

Me: “Yes, I know, but that comes with beef unless stated like I just said.”

Customer: “F*** YOU.”

(He storms out leaving the half-eaten burger and I’m left confused as to why we wouldn’t have meat on our burgers.)

(I am a receptionist at a busy insurance brokerage in downtown Vancouver. For the previous three years, I’d get a random obscene phone call in February. It seemed to me that someone was going alphabetically through a phone book and dialing random businesses, and February was when he got to me. It was getting annoying. One day I answer the phone:)

Me: “Good afternoon, [Insurance Broker]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Guess what I’m holding in my hand?”

Me: “If you only need one hand I’m not interested.”

Caller: “…” *click*

(I am a busboy at a local high-end restaurant in Salt Lake City, Utah. It’s 15 minutes past closing time. I’m out cleaning tables, when suddenly I’m beckoned over by one of the last holdouts of the night. I notice they are all on their phones.)

Customer: “Excuse me! Can you get our server?”

Me: “Absolutely, ma’am. I’ll be just one second.”

(I run and grab their server, and go drop off the dishes I collected. On my way back out to the dining room, I run into the server, looking bemused.)

Me: “What did they want?”

Server: *deep sigh* “They wanted a map of Yellowstone Park.”

Me: *laughing* “Really?! They stayed 15 minutes past closing for that? What’d you tell them?”

Server: “I told them we don’t have any, and then they asked me where they could find one. I told them, ‘Probably at a gas station. In Wyoming.’ And they were like, ‘Oh! A gas station! Okay, we’ll go there. Thank you very much!’”

Me: *laughing harder* “Yeah, or they could’ve just found one on the phones they had out in front of their freaking faces.”

Server: “No kidding!”

Me: “Did they tip you well?”

Server: “Not really.”

Me: “F*** them. I hope they never find Yellowstone.”