I worked at a large retail chain in the grocery section. We KNEW who had authentic support dogs and who had emotional support animals with no training.

We had a lady who kept coming in with her Bichon Frisé and claiming it was a support dog. We suspected it wasn’t.

One day, our store manager caught them in the middle of a grocery aisle. The dog was pooping and peeing on the floor. The lady just walked away without cleaning it up.

The store manager finally banned her after that.

I am the manager of a grooming salon within a pet store. Because we are short-staffed, the salon is closed on Mondays.

On Tuesday morning, I arrive to an email from the corporate office informing me that I need to contact an irate customer. She claims that she had an appointment scheduled for that Monday and the salon was empty when she arrived. This is impossible as Mondays are blocked off and scheduling simply isn’t available when no employees are on the books.

I pull up all of her appointment information and give her a call.

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name] from [Pet Salon]. I had a message about an issue with your appointment?”

The next ten minutes are a profanity-laden barrage as she screams about how incompetent my employees and I are. How dare we schedule an appointment for her and not arrive to groom Fluffy?! And so on.

I allow her to continue uninterrupted until she tires herself out.

Me: “I see here we had Fluffy down for an appointment on the twenty-third.”

Client: “Yes, yesterday, Monday the twenty-third, you stupid b****!”

Me: “Ma’am, yesterday was the twenty-first. Wednesday is the twenty-third.”

Client: “Yesterday was the twenty-third, you stupid little…”

Her rant trails off as she clearly pulls her phone down from her face to check the calendar app on her phone. Then, suddenly, she hangs up, presumably as she realizes that the twenty-third is, in fact, this Wednesday and that she spent ten minutes screaming and cursing at me because of her own incompetence.

I call back.

Me: “Oh, no, it seems like we got disconnected!”

She immediately hung up again. I marked a note on the incident report from corporate that the issue remained unresolved, as the customer had ended the phone call. I checked back later that day to see that the district manager had also contacted her, only to be immediately hung up on, as well.

I’m a manager at a fast food restaurant. A woman came through our drive-thru, and then she called us, screaming.

Customer: “My order was wrong! I need to talk to—” *read: yell at* “—the person who was at the window!”

Me: “They’re busy right now.”

Customer: “They can get their fat a** off the window and come talk to me!”

I hung up on her. She called back repeatedly saying the same sort of thing. On the third or fourth call, I informed her:

Me: “Ma’am, if you keep being disrespectful to my employees, I’m going to keep hanging up on you.”

And I did exactly that. It was hilarious.

And the best part? I started declining her number instead of picking up the phone. She kept our phone ringing for forty-five minutes — maybe eighty or so calls.

During the utterly unprecedented snowfall that hit Texas like a semi-truck going the wrong way down a busy highway, there was a day I had to walk to a supermarket because my car just plain refused to start. As it was very, VERY cold, I was wearing layers: a sweatshirt, a hoodie, a beanie, a snood (which is basically a fitted mask from nose to neck), and flannel pajama pants under my jeans.

On top of my hoodie was an old military jacket that I bought from a thrift store which didn’t provide a lot of cover, but layers are layers, and it was cold.

I also happened to have the bottoms of my jeans tucked into the tops of my work boots to keep the two feet of snow I had to trudge through out of my pants. These boots — to play devil’s advocate — could be mistaken for military boots at a distance, even though they’re not.

When I was just about to walk into the supermarket that some woman I’d never seen before (and never saw again) sprinted up to me and almost literally shoved her phone in my face, clearly recording.

Stranger: “Hey! You can’t wear that!”

Me: *Blinks* “…Huh?”

Stranger: *Points at my jacket* “Take that off! It’s stolen valor!”

I looked down at myself and blinked again.

Me: “…It’s a jacket.”

Stranger: “You’re trying to get a discount! Just buy your groceries like everyone else!”

I realized she was recording me, like the “Stolen Valor Revealed” videos on YouTube. I decided, perhaps naively, to try and explain the misunderstanding.

Me: “Oh, no, you’re mistaken. I’m not trying to get a military discount—”

She interrupted me and poked me in the chest to indicate my jacket.

Stranger: “Why else would you wear that, then?!”

It took me a few seconds to look around at the TWO FEET of snow that had gotten dumped on Texas almost overnight and then back at her.

Me: “‘Cause it’s cold.”

She blinked, took a moment herself to look around, and then blinked again. I could almost hear the gears clicking in her head as they stalled out after being given simple logic. At that point, I figured that, while she was distracted, I was just going to get inside the supermarket before my hands turned blue. And that way, I would have witnesses around me in case she escalated matters.

As it happened, I didn’t see the lady again until I was heading for the registers, and she was “hidden” behind a display, evidently thinking she was being sneaky, with her phone up again, ready to call me out. So, I preempted it.

Me: *To the cashier* “Just for the record, this jacket isn’t to mark me military; it’s just because it’s cold.”

The cashier looked a bit confused, as though I didn’t even need to say that, before nodding politely.

Cashier: “Um, okay, sir. Do you have a loyalty card?”

The transaction went without a hitch; I paid with my card, and I very specifically did NOT get any kind of discount. The woman who’d approached me wasn’t there anymore, and I figured she’d given up and found someone else to bother.

That was until I made my way to the front door. Ms. Stolen Valor was standing next to it with the very confused-looking manager in tow. I let out a sigh and held my receipt out to him before she could throw around any accusations.

Me: “Here’s my receipt. She’s claiming stolen valor, right?”

The manager also sighed, already looking like it had been a long day, took my receipt, gave it a quick pass with his eyes, and then handed it back to me.

Manager: “You’re fine, sir. Was she bothering you before?”

Me: “Yeah, she ambushed me outside, and she tried to sneak a video at the registers, but I basically ignored her. Am I free to go?”

The strange woman was going red in the face and was possibly two seconds from stomping her feet.

Manager: “Unless you want to file a harassment charge, sure.”

Me: “That won’t be necessary; it’s too cold. Sorry to leave you with her.”

Manager: *Chuckles mirthlessly* “I’ll live, I hope.”

I nodded politely to the manager and then passed right by the accusing woman. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see she was seething, clearly upset that she didn’t get a million-view callout video or whatever, but I just plain did not care. The manager, however, did keep her with him so she didn’t follow me down the street, and I can only imagine — and hope — that she at least got a reprimand for her antics.

I guess at the end of the day, I didn’t steal any valor, but I did get my time wasted.

One night, I was working as a cashier and they were training me to count the money in all the tills. I was going to be promoted to manager soon, but I didn’t have all the keys, etc. When our lottery scratch-off machine wasn’t working, an irate customer came up to me demanding that I fix it.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’ll have to wait for the manager to come back from her lunch break. It’ll be another ten minutes or so.”

She didn’t like that, but she waited. I was trying to help customers in between, and she kept coming up to the counter and getting angry, the last time getting right in my face. I stepped back, and the look on my face must’ve shown because she started screaming at me for being rude.

My manager finally came back at that moment and the customer tried to tell on me for being rude. I was crying by this point.

Manager: “Ma’am, she would never be rude to a customer. Now, give me a moment to clock back in and I can help you.”

This prompted the customer to scream at HER.

Customer: “Oh, so you don’t want your job, either?!”

And she stormed out. Fun times.

That customer came back in several times after that, asking if I’d gotten in trouble yet. The same manager told her I had not and I would not get in trouble as I’d done nothing wrong. It was very satisfying to hear!