I work at a family-owned business. It’s based heavily on new construction for the supplies we sell. I’m covering the showroom one day as [Coworker] who normally does is out on vacation.

The day progresses normally; it’s a busy morning with lots of people buying supplies. The day usually slows down to a crawl until lunch hour when people are coming through on their lunch breaks to buy things, and then it slows down again after that until we close at 4:00 pm.

It’s late in the afternoon and in walks a customer. I’ve seen him a few times before, but I haven’t helped him until today.

Customer: “Hey… umm… Where’s [Coworker] that works the counter?”

Me: “He’s on vacation.”

Customer: “Oh. Okay.”

Me: “What can I help you with today?”

The customer gives me a few items he needs. I ring him up and give him his cost, which is clearly not what he was expecting based on the face he makes.

Customer: “[Coworker] gives me the last price break on items. You’re charging me too much.”

Me: “I’m sorry, do you have a charge account with us?”

Some customers have charge accounts, and based on how much business they do with us, they can get price breaks on items they buy.

Customer: “No, but [Coworker] always gives me the last price break.”

Me: “I’m not [Coworker], and [Coworker] shouldn’t be giving you price breaks. If he continues to do that, he’ll be fired. So, do you still want these items or not?”

Looking defeated, the customer agrees to the slightly higher price than what he normally gets.

Customer: “That’s fine.”

The customer paid and left.

I went to my supervisor.

Me: “[Coworker] is back to giving out price breaks to customers who aren’t entitled to them again. You’d better have a talk with him before the owners find out and fire him.”

The store where I work has a new process for applying veteran discounts. All veterans with smartphones who want their discounts must register their status either on the company website or app. It requires their name, the branch they served in, whether they’re active or retired, their discharge date, and their birthday. When it’s done, they get a QR code that gets scanned to apply the discount. The code can’t be a screenshot as it refreshes randomly every hour so it can’t be shared.

Thankfully, I’ve had many appreciative people express their thanks to me for being patient enough to guide them through the new process and make it simple. I get the occasional anal orifices here and there, but I tell them the polite version of, “If you don’t want to do it, either pay full price or buy it elsewhere. There is no third option.”

We used to just visually check the IDs for validity, but let’s just say that too many bad people ruined it for everyone — namely, certain folks using their veteran discounts for their own companies or companies they worked for, which is not allowed as the discount is ONLY for the veterans’ personal purchases.

Our competitor store gives veteran discounts when the customers show their IDs and give their phone numbers. That’s going to change soon as that company will also be going by the new method to keep everyone honest. We get plenty of people who scoff at our new veteran discount policy and “threaten” us by saying they’re going to the other store instead. My coworkers and I lowkey laugh because that’s like telling us there’s free food in the break room. One less rude person to deal with, we say.

I was watching the self-checkout and went to help an elderly woman buying spray paint (an age-restricted item). She was very nice, and we chatted a bit while I scanned her items for her. I didn’t have to but just wanted to be polite. Then, a guy waved me over for help. I excused myself and bid her a great day.

Me: “How can I help you, sir?”

Guy: “I want to apply my veteran discount, but I’m having trouble.”

I asked what I ask everyone:

Me: “Have you registered your veteran status on our site?”

Guy: “What? I have my ID right here.” *Shows it to me* “My phone number is [number].”

I explained how the policy had changed and what he had to do, but he interrupted me.

Guy: “No, no, I don’t have to do that. Just type in my number like last time.”

Me: “We don’t go by phone number, sir. [Competitor] does. I can help you register—”

Guy: “I didn’t have to do that last time. Just do your thing, put my phone number in, and give me my discount. I do it all the time when I come here, so why won’t you do it?”

I swapped my friendly tone for the lukewarm neutral.

Me: “You’re mistaken, sir. We’ve never gone by phone number. We used to check IDs, but then—”

Guy: “The f***? You callin’ me a liar?! What the f*** is your problem?”

I was unfazed since I was not the problem here.

Me: “I didn’t say you were lying, sir. I said you were mistaken. As I said, [Competitor] goes by number. We go by the QR code you get when you register your veteran status online.”

At this point, the guy was raising a stink, using every cuss word imaginable, insulting me, whatever. I had already shut off my humanity at this point and just stood there watching this angry ape of a man turn an interesting beet-red color.

When he was done banging his vocal cords, I said in a slightly kinder voice:

Me: “I’ll get a manager for you.”

Guy: “You suck at your job. I bet you don’t even know who your manager is.”

I’ve worked a good while at this company, and I love to make goodies for my coworkers once in a while to show my appreciation for them. Because of those two things, not only do I know who my manager is, but EVERYONE who works in the store knows me. It’s hard to forget that one nice coworker who brings everyone homemade treats just because.

It took no time for a manager to show up since one of the cashiers had already called. The manager showed up and asked what was up. The guy went ape mode again, calling me all sorts of rather discolored things, including a liar when I tried explaining the veteran discount thing.

Manager: “[My Name] is correct. We’ve never given veteran discounts by phone number; [Competitor] does that.”

The guy wasn’t having it and dug his heels in so deep that I was surprised he didn’t fall over. Three male customers at the other checkout defended me, saying I wasn’t rude at all, and the shorter one said he was amazed I stood there and, in his words, “took it like a boss while this Hulk roared” at me. Not gonna lie, that made me laugh.

The guy kept saying I called him a liar. Again, the shorter male customer told him:

Short Customer: “Hombre, she said you were mistaken. That doesn’t mean lying. You’re the one lying, making up all that BS just now. We all heard you.”

The elderly woman I helped blew my mind when she piped up:

Elderly Woman: “You’re an a**hole for bullying retail workers! They have it hard enough. This girl was nothing less than nice and you s*** all over her kindness. Shame on you!”

Hearing an old woman cuss will never not be hilarious. It kind of warmed my heart to see strangers sticking up for me.

Manager: “I don’t appreciate you harassing my employee. You need to leave.”

The cherry on top of this whole thing?

Guy: “I can prove she’s lying about the phone number bit!”

This guy actually pulled out a receipt dated the day before from the last time he had shopped “here” and, lo and behold, the receipt was from [Competitor].

The guy went silent. The manager turned to see the receipt and then looked at the guy.

Manager: “So, are you leaving voluntarily or should I have the police give you a ride somewhere?”

With that, the guy hurried out empty-handed, without a word or glance at anyone.

Manager: *To me* “Are you okay?”

Me: “I’m fine, just annoyed.”

Manager: “I appreciate you keeping your cool with him.” *Gives me a fist bump* “Thanks for the cupcakes you made on Mother’s Day, by the way. I gave one to my wife. She’s pregnant, and she loved it!”

I thanked the customers who came to my defense. The shorter man gave me a fist bump and said how he knew what it was like to be bullied on the job and that he had a young daughter who dealt with it at her job.

Goes to show you that not all heroes wear capes. Some wear paint-stained clothes, safety vests, or thick boots. Some even wear orthopedic loafers and pearl earrings.

This incident is almost all secondhand from a witness.

I have terrible hand-eye coordination due to my epilepsy. It takes my brain a bit to process that there is something being thrown at my face, basically, as numerous broken glasses and black eyes can attest.

Every one of my teachers knew this. My eighth-grade math teacher had a thing where he would throw a foam softball at the students when he wanted to get their attention or get them to answer a question.

Around halfway through the year, I had a petit mal seizure during this math teacher’s class. During these seizures, everything turns black and I stare off into space unresponsive, which physically looks like dissociation or not paying attention.

My teacher saw me “not paying attention” and got angry, so he took his foam softball and chucked it at me as hard as he could… realizing at the last second that I was having a petit mal seizure. He watched in horror as the ball bounced off my still unresponsive forehead. Apparently, I didn’t even blink.

When I woke out of it a few moments later, I had to go to the nurse with a big red spot right in the center of my forehead, with the teacher stammering apologies in the background and me being extremely confused.

I work in a diner, and I am finishing up with a customer who has been generally polite so far.

Me: “Would you like anything else?”

Customer: “No, all set.”

He places a $20 bill on the plate. The meal was $17.40, so I assume that the rest is a tip. He sees me place the money into my apron pocket and starts frowning when I stay still and watch him.

Customer: “No, you give me my change.”

Me: “Oh, sorry.”

He reaches out for my pocket and just about places his fingers inside, but I move away. I tell him that I will get the manager, as the customer simply picks up the menu again. I do not think anything of this, but when I start talking to the manager, I hear the sounds of plates smashing onto the floor.

My manager and I come out to see the customer casually walking toward the door, leaving a pile of food and plates from someone else’s table all over the floor.

Manager: “What’s going on here?”

Customer: “Those dishes that ended up on the floor should cost about $20, shouldn’t they? Consider this a lesson, you f****** thieves.”

I talk to the group that the customer had walked up to. It turns out that the customer had walked over to their table, holding the menu. He had looked between the menu and their food for a moment before reaching his arm out and throwing exactly $20 worth of food onto the floor.

It’s been a few years since this happened in 2016, so some of the specific details are fuzzy. I was working as a floor supervisor for a satellite TV company’s technical support center. The call group I was heading up was a corporate-level team designed to handle customer situations that were recurring frequently or just not getting resolved.

The customer called in and spoke to my agent, demanding credit on his account because he couldn’t watch a baseball game that had happened two days before. On top of that, he was wanting the company to reimburse him for his ~$100 bar tab because he “had to go there to watch the game” because he got an error message. Company policy was that if there was an actual issue and we couldn’t fix it, we’d give credit for the time you were without service.

The error he was getting was a black-out message. He lived in the Chicagoland area, and he was wanting to watch a Cubs playoff game. Since he was in the local area and it was a home game, they had restricted the broadcast in his area to encourage people to buy a ticket and see the game in person. While it’s not what most people want to hear, normally, they understand. Not this guy. He asked for a supervisor and I took the call.

He immediately tore into me, cursing the company, me personally, and anyone else he could think of that might have been involved. I let him get it out of his system and asked for some more information. After he explained the situation, I confirmed that his service was working properly and explained the issue. I also asked him to call us in the future when the issue was happening so that we could fix it.

He refused to accept anything beyond a technician coming out and a full year of service, for free. Like… everything. NFL Sunday Ticket, MLB Extra Innings, HBO, all the international channels (from China, the Philippines, Guatemala, etc,), you name it, he wanted it — for free. I did the math out then, and I think it was around $3,500 in total services he was demanding. As a tenured employee, even I didn’t get all that, and I told him as much.

For some reason, that’s when he changed tactics and started crying, recounting the horrible things he saw and did while a member of the armed services (Marine Corps, I think it was). I have no idea the experiences he’d had and can’t imagine how traumatizing the things he was telling me must have been, but they didn’t change that there wasn’t actually a problem, and if there had been, we weren’t given a chance to fix it.

When crying didn’t work, he threatened to kill me and bomb the call centre. That’s when I took all his information (we had his name, address, phone number, SSN — the whole nine yards) and provided them to his local law enforcement agency. I escalated the call to my corporate security team so that they could provide the call’s recording as evidence for when he went to trial.

It wasn’t cost-effective to have me flown from Denver to Chicago for the proceedings, but I was kept in the loop when he was arrested and charged. I’m pretty sure he took a plea deal.