My oldest brother’s first wife was smart about some things and fairly daft about others. She also always managed to find a way to blame anyone but herself when things went wrong. And no matter what you knew about a topic, even if you were the master of the subject, she always knew more and waved away any suggestions you might have.

So, after a class in college about British history, she says that she wants to go to England to see some of the sites she’s been reading about. And she wants to go at a particular time, which is also a window of time that my brother’s job requires him to be at work.  

So, knowing I went to England when I was in college — eons ago — she asks me to go. Happily for me, I have used up most of my vacation time and “regretfully” tell her I cannot go. (I would sooner have gotten into a ring with an angry bull than go anywhere with this woman.)

She asks her dear friend to go with her, instead. A lot of face-palming goes on among the family because we have all met her friend and not only is she a major lush, she is also another “I know everything about this subject which I have only just heard of” person.  

My sister-in-law calls to ask how I got around England when I was there. I remind her I was on a two-week guided tour. No, they don’t want a guided tour. They want to be their own guided tour. How much were cars to rent? I tell her it’s not a good idea to rent or drive a car since the traffic is reversed. I tell her about the railway passes and the underground/tube and how public transportation is so wonderful that you never need to drive at all. I beg her not to drive. The travel agent begs her not to drive.

Nope, they want to drive all over the country on their own. It won’t be fun, otherwise. (These are two women in their mid-forties.) So, the tickets are bought, the plane and hotels are booked, and off they go.  

We figure we won’t hear from them for two weeks.

They call the first night to let everyone know they arrived safely.

She calls the next day to tell my brother that her friend dented the rental car by turning the wrong way out of the hotel parking lot and now they don’t have a car. She calls that night because she can’t find her friend. My brother asks her exactly what he is supposed to do from East Coast, USA. She calls an hour later to report she found her friend in the bar drinking with a bunch of men.

She calls the next morning to say she and her friend cannot stand each other and she wants to come home and get a refund on the trip. My brother calls the travel agent and has to pay all kinds of cash to end the trip, change flights, and make sure she and her friend are on different flights.  

She complains for weeks about the trip and how she can never go back because the country was completely ruined for her. My brother reminds her that she took a person she knew to be a loquacious alcoholic on a trip and let her drive a car in traffic that she wasn’t used to.  

Somehow it is all his fault, my fault, her parents’ fault, and the travel agent’s fault that she hadn’t listened to any of us.  

I’m happy to say that when they divorced, we had a nice little celebration.

(It is Black Friday. A customer comes in to do a return on several TV mounts. She has no receipt, and the purchase was not made with her rewards account or with her card. Eventually, I find two of the three TV mounts on her brother’s account. They were purchased almost a year ago.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t do the return. It’s way outside the return policy and I can only find two of them.”

(She goes off about how her parents’ house burned down and a manager told her they would be able to return the mounts any time. After several managers tell her no and she still won’t give in, the general manager says to do it. The one mount I can’t find will not have tax returned because there is no proof of purchase. She sees this and yells about over $10.)

Me: “You are lucky we even did this; it was purchased a year ago.”

Customer: “I hope your parents’ house burns down.”

(This was after she got her return, and on the day after Thanksgiving. Nice.)

This story is part of our Black Friday 2023 roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

25 Crazy Tales Of Black Friday Madness!

Read the first Black Friday 2023 roundup story!

Read the Black Friday 2023 roundup!

(I overhear my colleague talking about her day.)

Colleague: “I saw something and stopped, and suddenly something bumps into me from behind. It’s [Other Colleague]’s pregnant belly. But she didn’t even bother to say, ‘Excuse me,’ or let me know she was there. So, I hope she loses the baby, because it’s her fault for not letting me know she was behind me.”

Me: “What?”

Colleague: “Yeah! She just stood there waiting for me to bump into her, and she didn’t even bother to let me know she was behind me! It’s not my fault I bumped into her belly!”

Me: “But you’re the one who stopped suddenly.”

Colleague: “Yeah, but there’s something I wanted to look at.”

Me: “…”

Colleague: “Who asked her not to say, ‘Excuse me’? She should have let me know she was behind me. She didn’t even make a sound!”

Me: “Did she scold you or complain about you bumping into her?”

Colleague: “No, luckily. But she has no right to, because she didn’t say, ‘Excuse me.’” 

Me: “And for that, you cursed her baby?!”

Colleague: “It’s her fault for not letting me know she was behind me! She should have said ‘excuse me’! She didn’t even bother to, so I hope she loses the baby, and it would serve her right!”

(I stopped talking to her after that; otherwise, I might have been tempted to give her a good slap across her face.)

(Every year for Thanksgiving, we have several family and extended family members come to our house, since we have a big dining room and a good-size living room, so there’s space for everyone to sit and eat. One year, my brother gets married and his wife invites her mother and her younger siblings to our home for Thanksgiving, giving me about two days’ notice about the six extra guests. Usually, I’m pretty informal about dinner, but on holidays, I insist everyone put away all technology and actually interact with each other while we eat. My sister-in-law’s youngest brother comes up to me.)

Youngest Brother: “I’ll take my food into the garage and play video games during dinner, thanks.”

Me: “No, you can’t do that. We all sit around the dinner table for dinner.”

Youngest Brother: *starts throwing a fit*

His Mother: “But we are your guests and you should accommodate his little quirks.”

Me: “He will eat at the table, or play games and not eat. His choice.”

(She storms out of the house with her children in tow.)

His Mother: “We’ll never come back!”

(Unbelievably, for two years we really don’t see them again even though they live less than thirty minutes away. My sister-in-law occasionally mentions that they would really like to come back for Thanksgiving and finally gets around to actually asking if they could come this year.)

Me: “I never banned them from the house or from celebrating with us. They are welcome but will be expected to eat at the table like the rest of us.”

(She says that is fine and invites the brood back. The youngest brother sits at the table, looks around at the food, and announces:)

Youngest Brother: “I want [Fast Food Place], instead.”

(I expect his mother or my sister-in-law to point out how ridiculous that is, but they are looking at me like this is a perfectly reasonable request.)

Me: “You can eat what is in front of you, or ask your mother about [Fast Food Place].”

His Mother: “But we’re your guests and you should accommodate us!

(She’s apparently really fond of that phrase! I give up on being polite at that point and simply say no.)

His Mother: “What do you mean, no?!” 

Me: “You’re a native English speaker. I’m sure you know the meaning of the word.” 

Youngest Brother: “My teeth hurt and I can’t eat anything but [Fast Food Place] chicken nuggets.”

(That is such an absurd statement I don’t even acknowledge it. His mother is busy turning a really alarming reddish-purple color and doesn’t say anything, either. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, the boy starts whining.)

Youngest Brother: “My lips hurt and I can only eat [Fast Food Place]!” *then yelling* “My whole mouth is hurting and I need chicken nuggets!”

(His mother is glaring at me as her son begins to really pitch a fit.)

Sister-In-Law: “[Fast Food Place] is open; you should just go out really quick and get him chicken nuggets.”

Me: “You’re welcome to go yourself and take him with you. I’ve cooked for two days and I’ll be d***ed if I am going to give in to this brat’s whining.”

(At me calling the boy a brat, his mother again stormed out with all her children in tow, including my sister-in-law. I have never been happier to be called a terrible host in my life, and I was so very relieved when my brother divorced that woman.)

(It is 4:00 pm and I am managing at a restaurant on Thanksgiving, but it is so busy that I have to take over seating. We have been completely booked for over a week, but guests can wait two hours for an opening. As I’m talking to a guest, a very rude lady pushes her way through a huge line of about nine people.)

Me: “Hello. I’ll be happy to help you, but you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Old Lady: “No. I have a reservation. My family is now here. Seat us now.”

Me: “Ma’am, most of these people here have reservations, so if you could please wai—“

Old Lady: *cursing in Spanish at me* “No! Seat me now!”

Me: *rolls my eyes and agrees with the thought of giving her the worst table possible* “What name is it under?”

Old Lady: *gives first and last name*

Me: “Ma’am, there is no reservation under that name. Was it under someone else’s?”

Old Lady: “Are you not listening to me? Are you r******d?!”

Me: *cringes at that word* “What time did you make the reservation for?”

Old Lady: “Noon, but it was for eight, and now we’re ten.”

Me: “Ma’am, that was four hours ago. Not only did we try to call you and then wait twenty minutes, but we gave your table to the next group waiting.”

Old Lady: *looking completely shocked* “What?! Why would you do something like that?! It’s my table! I can come whatever time I want!”

Me: “Ma’am, you made it for 12:00 pm. We only allow a two-hour time frame for a party of eight.”

Old Lady: “That’s ridiculous! Who eats Thanksgiving dinner at 12:00 pm? That’s not even a normal time!”

Me: “It’s the time you requested.”

Old Lady: “Yes, but that’s because it was the only slots you had left. This is the hostess’s fault!”

(After looking up who made the reservation, I see it was me. Thanksgiving is a huge holiday so no screw-ups are allowed because of not checking a simple thing.)

Me: “Ma’am, I can put your name down, but you may have to wait up to two hours.”

Old Lady: “No… you obviously don’t know what you’re doing. I want to talk to the manager.”

Me: “I am the manager on the floor today. You set your time at 12:00 pm. You didn’t show, you didn’t answer our calls, nor did you call to confirm the reservation. So, unfortunately, all I can do is put you on a wait list.”

Old Lady: “Fine. But this is certainly not my fault. I expect free appetizers and dessert. I also want that room with the Pope’s head on the round table.”

Me: “Ma’am, none of those is a possibility. This was your mistake and your mistake only. I’ll see if I can have your family of ten sit together, but again, it may be over two hours.”

Old Lady: “You’d better do as I say, or I’ll call corporate.”

Me: *pretty tired of the back and forth* “Great. Tell them I said hi. I have you down on the waitlist. Now, if you could please move so I can take the people who were here before you, who actually decided to show up to the reservation they made weeks prior so they could eat Thanksgiving at a ‘normal’ time…” *I talk to the person behind her* “Hello, sir! Name?”

(I should mention I was pregnant, as well. I had no patience after working from 10:00 am to 11:00 pm, on my feet after closing the night before. I honestly didn’t care if I lost my job, but my GM heard the whole thing and thought it was hilarious.)

This story is part of the Thanksgiving 2022 roundup!

Read the next Thanksgiving 2022 roundup story!

Read the Thanksgiving 2022 roundup!