A woman comes into our store and stops by my service desk to check the balances on a few gift cards she has and to ask for directions to one of the departments. She appears to be alone and has apparently imbibed in some sort of pungent alcoholic beverage. She is walking okay, but her breath could send an elephant to rehab.

After I check the balance and point her in the right direction, I ask [Coworker #1] to watch the desk while I take my overflowing cart of defectives back to the compactor. By the time I’m on my way back, it has been about twenty-five minutes since the woman left the service desk. 

On my way back up to the front, I hear [code for a lost child] called over the store’s PA system. From halfway across the floor, I can clearly hear the woman screaming hysterically from the check lanes.

The procedure says that we all have to stop what we are doing to look for said child. Since I don’t have my own walkie and have missed the description of the child, I hurry back to the service desk and ask [Coworker #1] so I can join the search for the kid.

Meanwhile, the woman is pacing up and down the lanes, screaming the kid’s name, crying, and generally upsetting all the other guests.

Coworker #1: “We’re looking for a nine-year-old boy wearing a red shirt and khaki pants.”

Me: “Hair color? Eye color?”

Coworker #1: “Couldn’t get it out of her.”

Here is where I pause, trying to decide if this is a coincidence or if we are just getting trolled by this woman. No hair color, eye color, or any other physical features are available; just “a kid dressed like an employee”? I feel this is suspicious, but the woman seems genuinely upset, so I try to withhold judgment and leave to search for the kid all the same.

I search EVERYWHERE for this kid. In Toys, behind blankets and pillows, heck, even in the boxes for rugs. Everywhere.

Several members of staff report having checked the back rooms in case the kid wandered in and found a weird hiding place.

During this process, I run into [Coworker #2].

Coworker #2: “I’ve helped the lady twice tonight and she was alone both times. She smells like she’s just come from the local bar. I’ve told the manager.”

I ask if anyone has checked her car, and they have, with no results. We are under the code for almost half an hour before it finally gets canceled. I hurry back to the service desk to check in with [Coworker #1] who tells me that [Manager] is checking the video from the cameras in the store and has called down to tell us to cancel the code.

[Manager] does come back, and his expression is one that I recognize: he is angry but trying to be professional.

Manager: “Ma’am, I checked the cameras. You entered our store alone and did your shopping alone. At no time since you entered were you accompanied by a child.”

Customer: *Still in hysterics* “No! I came here with [Child]! He has to be somewhere! Why aren’t you looking for him?! Did your employees even try?! How can you not take it seriously when a child is missing?!”

My manager reiterates that she came in alone, and she insists that she came with a child. By now, the manager is completely fed up.

Manager: “All right, ma’am, since neither one of us is going to budge on this, I think it’s time that we call the police and file a report.”

The woman stops her hysterical behavior very suddenly. I can actually see that, whatever her game plan has been in this farce, she suddenly realizes that a line has been drawn that she doesn’t want to cross.

Customer: “Oh… wait… I forgot him at home. I guess I’d… um… better finish my shopping.”

Manager: “No, ma’am, I think you need to go home and calm down. And I don’t want you to return to my store.”

Customer: “What?! Why?”

Manager: “Because you left your kid at home, then ‘forgot’ that you left him at home, and then you caused a scene at our store and upset a bunch of our other guests. I have video evidence that you approached and harassed several guests and now, after wasting all of our time, you just want to go about your business as if nothing happened. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m ending it right now. Leave my store.”

The woman opens her mouth like she is going to argue, sees the look on the manager’s face, and then leaves.

Manager: *To me* “The cops have already been called. They are waiting for her to get into her vehicle.”

She apparently did get picked up by the police for DUI, and one officer came in to talk to my manager for filing a trespass order against her.

As an ending note, the guests that this lady had harassed were all people of color. She had very aggressively harassed them about the location of her child, demanding to know, “What did you do to [Child]?! Where is he?! What have you done to him?!”

I’m still not sure whether it was a drunken “prank,” or just an excuse for her to harass non-white guests, or even if the child existed at all.

I’m an alterations specialist at a bridal shop and often have brides bring three to four ladies with them for their first fitting. We only have one small room for pinning dresses; however, it’s an important moment to a lot of people so we try to be accommodating.

I have a first fitting for a bridal gown with a lady in her mid-twenties. She must have brought her whole bridal party with her — five or six women, including her. I lead them to the back where the fitting room is and realize pretty quickly that they have all been drinking before this and are behaving a little drunk.

I manage to help the bride into her dress with the proper undergarments and realize she needs your basic alterations; take in the bust, a hem, and a bustle for picking up the train. I start pinning the sides of the dress and manage to avoid stabbing her, even with her constant wiggling and giggling with her bridesmaids.

They are joking with the bride the whole time, all while I’m constantly reminding her to hold still. Eventually, they start joking about how drunk she is for the fitting. I assume they’ve finally noticed how much she is moving after about my tenth reminder to hold still.

Friend #1: “Girl, you’d better stop wiggling or you’re gonna get pricked.”

Friend #2: “Don’t move so much or she’ll make you bleed.”

Me: “I assure you that I’m an expert at fittings and won’t get her with the pins.”

I finally get to the innermost layer of her skirt hem, right next to her bare ankles. I have wasted a lot of time from being careful not to get her skin, and my next appointment will be showing up soon. I finally get fed up with her squirming and say in a joking, but very clear tone:

Me: “Now this is the part where if you don’t hold still, you will get stabbed.”

She did not move for the rest of the fitting and her girlfriends had a pretty good laugh.

It is during graduation week, the busiest time of the year for restaurants in my city. Generally speaking, this specific crowd, which consists mostly of parents and families from out of town, can be quite demanding, impatient, and stingy.

My boss always gives me large parties because I can handle them. My trick is to handle large tables as if they are a kindergarten class. I make a seating chart on my server pad and no one orders “out of turn.” I also communicate everything, e.g. “Now I’m setting your silverware for your main course,” or, “I’ve just checked on your order and the chef said it will take about another five minutes. Anything I can bring you in the meantime?” etc.

I have a super obnoxious family of fourteen. They’re indecisive and ask a lot of questions and take their sweet time ordering. They also interrupt and talk over each other. But on top of that, they’re very impatient and demanding. One of the sons is also trying to hit on me while I’m taking his drink order:

Customer: “Uh, so, what’s, like, the manliest drink on the menu?”

I personally don’t like to categorize drinks this way. Alcohol is alcohol and everyone has their own personal taste. I always try to ask after customer’s preferences.

Me: “Well, what do you normally like to drink? Gin, vodka, bourbon, tequila?”

Customer: *With a dumb smirk* “What do you like to drink? I bet you like something sweet.”

Me: *Internally rolling my eyes* “Actually, I’m more of a bourbon or whiskey girl. If you’re looking for something a bit strong, I would recommend [particular drink]. It’s one of my personal favorites and it’s actually quite popular with a lot of customers.”

Customer: “Oh… umm… how about this strawberry mojito?”

Later, as I’m bringing their food, many of the customers at the table interrupt me to ask for little extra things before I have everyone’s meal on the table. For example, while I have my arms full of hot plates, the grandma asks me for “ready cheese.” I’m not completely sure what she means, but I assume she means Parmesan.

Me: “Of course. I’ll bring that for you as soon as I’m done getting this hot food out.”

Note to customers: please wait until everyone at your table has been served before you ask for extras like ketchup, napkins, extra sides, etc. That way we can ensure that everyone gets their food while it’s hot. Otherwise, you end up complaining later that not everyone got their food or that your food is cold.

Even though the table was difficult, I was able to organize everything pretty well and still attend to my other tables. The customers later called back that evening and they apparently told my manager that it was “the best service they ever had, but they were terrified of me.” Honestly, that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received as a server!

A group of friends and I decide we are going to go out and watch a movie. We have one friend that we have grown to dislike. He always gets drunk before we go out. We tell him he’s not allowed to get drunk before the movie. To try and enforce this, we decide to all meet at the theater. It doesn’t work; he drives drunk to the theater. We all tell him not to say a word to anyone or we are not hanging out with him again. I also take his keys and tell him I will take his car home after the movie ends. As we get in line to get our popcorn, he starts in on a woman in another line.

Drunk Friend: “HEY, D***, WHAT ARE YOU WATCHING?!”

Friend #1: “[Drunk Friend], shut up. Leave them alone or I will take you home now.”

We get our popcorn and get into our seats as the previews play. We then realize our friend is not in his seat. We wonder if he went to the restroom, but we figure he’s too much trouble to leave alone. [Friend #1] and I go looking for him while our other friends watch the movie. We can’t find him in the restroom or the lobby so we figure he’s in another theater. I notice one theater has a crowd of people there, so [Friend #1] and I go over. I’m allowed to go in alone while [Friend #1] has to wait by the door.

I look in and see [Drunk Friend] on the floor. Apparently, the woman he harassed earlier whooped him good. I shout to my friend as I walk back.

Me: “Yeah, it’s him!”

[Drunk Friend] was arrested. I still took his car to his home for him, but I haven’t spoken to him since.

I greet a table of two middle-aged women. They tell me that they would like to order some wine. I ask for their preferences.

Me: “Would you like red or white?”

Customer: “White.”

Me: “Okay, and would you like something light or fuller-bodied? We have—”

She cuts me off and scoffs.

Customer: *In a snotty tone* “Ha, white wine doesn’t have body!”

She then looks at her friend like, “Can you believe how dumb this waitress is?”

Me: *Internal facepalm*