I worked in the food service for a handful of years, so I know what it’s like when you’re short-staffed and the restaurant is busy and you’re working as fast as you can to try and accommodate people.

We get thirty minutes for a lunch break at my job, and we are allowed to eat at our desks, so many of us will leave the building and then head out to a local food joint and bring lunch back to our desks. This way we can easily make sure we’re not taking over thirty minutes.

One day, I venture out and go to one of my favorite Chinese joints. I’m standing in line, there are six or seven people in front of me, and a few more have joined the line behind me. I can see that there are three people in total working behind the counter and in the kitchen.

There’s one young lady who appears to be in her teens (maybe seventeen or eighteen), the store manager (an older gent who’s probably around forty), and one person in the kitchen who’s working hard at keeping up with all the food. The line is moving slowly because the manager is between helping in the kitchen and working the register. If he was busy in the kitchen, the young lady taking orders and filling plates would have to ring up the customers, so this slows things down some.

I’m patient, as is most everyone else in line. I can tell the staff is rushed and I can feel the pressure of the atmosphere weighing on me and I’m not even working there. About five minutes pass and the line has gone down by one person. As I continue to watch the young lady working behind the counter, it appears that she’s fairly new and trying her best to keep up. She has to check the menu boards behind her for some order requests because she clearly doesn’t know them by memory yet.

Three places in front of me is a lady maybe in her late twenties or early thirties. She’s been rocking from side to side, stepping out of line a couple of steps, and muttering for the past four or five minutes, and her muttering is getting louder. Eventually, she steps out of line and starts yelling at the young lady behind the counter:

Angry Customer: “I’ve been waiting here for over fifteen minutes! I can’t believe how slow you’re going! I’m tired of this s***! I deserve a free meal because you’re taking too long!”

Other people in line just kind of shoot glances at each other, but no one says anything.

Angry Customer: “I demand you give me a free meal for having to wait so long. This is f****** unacceptable! You need to go faster as I don’t have all day to wait for your slow a**!”

The young lady behind the counter clearly doesn’t know how to deal with this, and the manager is in the kitchen so I don’t think he can hear the angry lady over the noise. The young lady behind the counter is clearly embarrassed, her face is turning red, and I can see in her eyes that she’s on the verge of crying. Her hands are starting to tremble as she tries to go faster.

I lean out of the line and address the angry lady.

Me: “No one is making you wait here for food. They don’t owe you a f****** thing. If you don’t like the service they’re offering here, leave.”

Angry Customer: “I wasn’t talking to you, and I don’t appreciate you—”

Me: “If I was the manager here, I’d show you the door and tell you to get the f*** out for berating my employees. No one wants to hear you complain. Everyone else here is waiting patiently and not demanding free stuff, so what is your problem?”

The angry lady only gave an irritated huff and stomped out the door. That was a win for me and everyone else in line; now our wait would be shorter.

I got to the front of the line, and I told the young lady behind the counter that she didn’t deserve to be treated like that and that she was doing a wonderful job. I took my food to the register and the manager thanked me for standing up for his employee.

I guess he did overhear the end of things between the angry lady and me, and he told me that lunch is on him. I thanked him for the offer, but I told him I didn’t come in expecting anything free. I just wanted to pay and be on my way, so he rang up my meal and I left to go back to work.

I work as a tour guide for a popular river cruise company. Generally, I get along with everybody at work and am good with the guests. As I’m coming onto the docks one day after clocking in, I see one of the boats come in from a sightseeing cruise and the passengers disembark.

Among them is an older man in a wheelchair with no legs and a large, infected-looking cut over his eye. He rolls up to me, and the first thing I notice is a vague smell of whiskey. I assume he probably had a couple of drinks on the ship.

Passenger: “So, what’s your favorite movie?”

I’ve been asked stranger things off the cuff, so I just roll with it.

Me: “Lord of the Rings: Return of the King — I don’t even have to think about it.”

That apparently is not what he wanted to hear, as it sends him off on a two-minute rant filled with ableist slurs about how much he hates sequels and remakes.

Passenger: “And you know who’s responsible? You! You f****** millennials have no talent; you can’t come up with any ideas of your own!”

This goes on for another two minutes as he takes his problem with millennials out on me personally, questioning my intelligence, my upbringing, my parentage, everything. Fortunately, I used to be a street performer, so I got used to hecklers early on. Throughout the entire rant, I just stand by, smiling and not saying a word.

Finally, the man stops for breath and I decide to give him a little sass.

Me: “Do you feel better now that you got that out of your system?”

I will remember his next words to me until my dying day.

Passenger: “F*** you, millennial trash! You think you’re so smart with your beard? Why don’t you go remake a TV show?”

Then, he wheeled off and started talking to the people at a table. Ten minutes later, I saw a dockhand escorting the man off of the premises and learned that he hadn’t bought a ticket, had snuck on board the boat by pretending to be part of a larger group, and had spent the whole hour-long sightseeing cruise harassing the bartender. He was finally removed because he wouldn’t stop accosting people and making a scene.

Some people just aren’t happy unless they’re miserable.

Related:
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 16
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 15
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 14
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 13
Some People Just Want To Watch The World Burn, Part 12

Our store keeps a bunch of candies at the checkout to tempt shoppers at the last minute. It’s a lousy marketing trick but it works. Sadly, it’s designed to work on children, who then demand candy and can kick up a stink if they’re denied.

Child: “Mom, I want this candy!”

Customer: “Not now, dear. I can only afford what I am buying.”

Child: “Then put something back!”

Customer: “I’m not going to do that, [Child].”

The child initiates a tantrum, and the poor parent looks tired and like she wants to give up. While continuing to scan the items, I talk to the child.

Me: “Excuse me, little boy? You don’t want these candies, anyway; they’re made for babies. You’re not a baby, are you?”

Child: *Sniffs* “Nuh-uh. I’m a big boy!”

Me: *Still scanning* “That’s what I thought. A real big boy wouldn’t cry over some baby candy. A real big boy would eat the food his mommy buys and get even bigger!”

The boy thinks this over for a moment and then nods approvingly, although still staring at the candy occasionally. I turn to the mother.

Me: “I hope I didn’t overstep?”

Customer: “Not at all! You were very good. Are you a mother? How do you manage children so well?”

Me: “I work retail; compared to the bigger babies I deal with daily, young children are a walk in the park!”

I’m working at a parking lot in a nice oceanfront community. The parking lot is owned by the city and has a strict closing time of 8:00 pm (I suppose because it is in a residential neighborhood, not the resort area). At 8:00 pm, security will call to tow any cars left, and the gate to the parking lot is locked. The operating hours and “towing strictly enforced” are written on a large sign in front of my booth.

Today happens to be the Fourth of July, and the city puts on a fireworks display over the ocean every year. The resort area is packed, so people will try to come to this parking lot to park and go to the beach to see the fireworks. I make extra sure to remind people wanting to park that this parking lot will be closed and locked before the fireworks even start.

A guy pulls in to park.

Me: “Hey! Just so you know, this parking lot will be closing at 8:00, and any cars left here at that time will be towed.”

Driver: “What? But I’m going to a house party down the street and my buddy said I could park here overnight! Can’t you just let me stay?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. I’m not even the one who calls the tow truck or locks the gate, so I can’t give you a pass.”

Driver: “Come on, please?”

Me: “I literally cannot.”

Driver: “F*** you!”

He speeds off. A couple of hours later, my husband drops by to deliver me a sandwich and hang out for a minute. While he’s there, the guy from earlier pulls back in.

Driver: “Look, I’m really sorry. I’m a lifeguard, so I can guess some of what you’re up against with the regulations. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”

Me: *Impressed* “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”

Driver: “So… Can I park?”

By this time, it’s about an hour or two until the parking lot closes.

Me: “Sure, but remember you have to get out of here by 8:00 or your car will be towed.”

Driver: “Seriously?! F*** you!” *Drives off again*

Husband: “What the…?”

This story is part of our Fourth-Of-July-themed roundup!

Want to read the next Fourth-Of-July-themed roundup story? Click here!

Want to read the Fourth-Of-July-themed roundup? Click here!

[Coworker #1] is profoundly lazy. [Coworker #2] figured this out early and hates his guts. I initially thought he was struggling and tried to help him, so he sees me as a sap who can be tricked into cleaning up his messes. When this takes place, [Manager] and [Assistant Manager] are out of town, and [Manager] told me to “keep [Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] from killing each other.”

I remind [Coworker #1] twice that it’s his turn to organize the stockroom and that he ought to start before the afternoon rush. After the second reminder, he lectures me at great length about how he’s faster than me and doesn’t need that much time. [Coworker #2] interrupts to tell him to stop condescending to me, and he yells that he’s not condescending. Then, they loudly take out all their grudges on each other from the past several months, while I try and fail to get them to stop. I end up literally standing between them while they yell at each other over my shoulders.

I don’t do well with yelling, so I have a panic attack in the bathroom. Meanwhile, [Coworker #2] calls [Assistant Manager] to complain about [Coworker #1]. [Coworker #1] swears at [Assistant Manager] and calls [Manager] to complain. [Manager] is dealing with his father’s funeral and wants nothing to do with this! Somehow, [Manager’s Manager] gets involved in these two floor-level employees having a verbal slap fight, and the only question is which one is getting fired for this.

Eventually, [Coworker #1] screams profanities at [Coworker #2] in full view of customers and then walks out, never to return. I’m the one who has to organize the stockroom, cleaning up his mess one last time.