Me: “Thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

Guest: “Hi, yes, I’m calling because your hotel charged our credit card twice?”

Me: “Okay, ma’am. If I can have your name, I’ll look you up in the computer and we can get this straightened out.”

Guest: *morphs into an uber-witch in three seconds flat* “Straightened out? D*** right you’re going to get this straightened out! You charged enough for that crappy little room! I’ll be d***ed if we’re paying for it twice! My husband works too hard for his money to be charged double for something like this! There wasn’t even a bar there!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if I can just have your name and the date you stayed–”

Guest: “That’s just it! I was charged on two separate DATES. My name is [Guest] and my husband and I stayed there on June 9th. There’s another charge on there for the 17th. I want this fixed!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’m looking now, ma’am… Okay, I see the problem. You did stay here on the 9th of June. I’m showing that someone by the name of [Husband] stayed on the 17th.”

(There’s dead silence for a moment, and then whispering.)

Guest: “What?”

(At this point my stomach falls into my shoes, because I can hear her mind ticking away, and I know something she doesn’t: another name is listed on the screen with her husband’s for the June 17th stay, and it’s NOT HERS.)

Me: “Um… ma’am?”

Guest: “I see. You’ve been very helpful.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Can I help you with anything else today?”

(At this moment the woman drops the phone but does not hang up, and I hear her begin to scream at someone, swearing in combos I never would have thought up. I hang up quickly and try to go about my business, making a note of it to tell my boss. Later I get another phone call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling. How–”

Guest’s Husband: “I want to talk to your manager, you stupid little b****! You probably just cost me my marriage and I am going to sue your s***-hole hotel for every penny it’s worth! Do you hear me? Do you?!”

Me: *click*

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Me: “Thank you for calling [Direct Sales]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “I need a power cord for my product.”

Me: “I would be happy to place your order. I just need you to read me the three numbers from the front of the product.”

Caller: “Talk to my wife, I can’t read…”

(In the background, I overhear the following…)

Caller: “Get on the phone!”

Caller’s Wife: “You are Satan! When spiritual warfare happens, I will have more angels on my side because you are evil and no one loves you!”

(The wife then comes on the phone and very calmly gives me the number, her address, credit card info and then hangs up.)

(I go to a table of four, a mom and dad and two kids who are ready to order.)

Husband: “How big are your pizzas?”

Me: “They are ten-inch pizzas, sir.”

Husband: “Well how big is ten inches?”

(And before I can answer, the wife chimes in.)

Wife: “You wouldn’t know anything about ten inches, dear.”

(I stood there for a moment with my mouth open, before I ran to the wait station and started laughing hysterically.)

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(An 80-year-old woman and her husband come up to the cutting counter with a bolt of sparkly, orange, see-through fabric.)

80-Year-Old Woman: “Three yards please.”

Me: *as I am measuring:* “What are you using this for?”

80-Year-Old Woman: “I am taking a belly dancing class, and I am going to make my own outfit.”

(I stare, and the man looks everywhere but his wife.)

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