(I get a call to go and pick up my very independent girlfriend from a nightclub because her overprotective work friends won’t let her leave without either getting in a taxi or having me come pick her up. The club is roughly a ten-minute walk from the house. I start to head to the club, carrying only keys, and clock a stranger on the other side of the road. He is walking in the opposite direction until he spots me and crosses over. I am rather tall and, according to my girlfriend, rather intimidating… until I open my mouth, because of my posh accent. I am always wary of people, as I was bullied at school by short people wanting to pick a fight, wanting to make their mark.)

Stranger: “Hey there!”

(He starts walking in the direction I am going, walking fairly quickly to try and keep pace. I am crossing a long bridge without any possible escape routes, putting me on edge.)

Stranger: “Where are you going?”

Me: *still walking, but determined to remain polite and non-provocative* “[Nightclub].”

Stranger: “Meeting someone special?”

(There is a creepy tone in his voice, which makes me even more wary.)

Me: “Yep.”

Stranger: “It’s a girl, right?” *gives a cocky grin* “I’m going there, too! Let’s get a taxi!”

Me: *thinking how he was initially walking north when the club was south, setting off more alarm bells* “I’m all right, mate; it’s not far.”

Stranger: “I don’t mind. We’ll get a taxi!”

Me: “You can get one if you want, but I don’t have any cash on me. It’s not far, though.”

Stranger: “Don’t worry; I’ll pay for it!”

(We get to the end of the bridge as he repeatedly tries to get me to flag down a taxi. I carry on down one side of the road whilst he starts to cross over to the other. My route involves crossing a road south, then going east; his route involves going east and then crossing the road to go south.)

Stranger: “Where are you going, mate? It’s this way!”

Me: “I’m going this way. Have a good evening!”

Stranger: “It’s this way, [gay slur]!”

(He continued walking his way to the nightclub, which was retracing the direction he originally came from. I can only assume he wanted to stiff me for a taxi fare. As it was so close, it was not worth getting a taxi to go a distance of two streets.)

(It’s a busy day. The store is short-staffed and as a manager, I pick up some slack taking orders. Our establishment requests that we be fast, but also ensure that we take care of the orders. It’s a take three, bag three orders rule. I have already taken five orders, because two of them were drinks only. A customer approaches me.)

Me: “I’ll be right with you.”

Customer: “Okay.”

(He then starts ordering. I gaze at him for a moment, and then take his order. After completing the order:)

Me: “I took your order this time, but I won’t do it next time, as I have to be fair to the other customers.”

Customer: *screams* “I’m here now and you should get my order first!”

Me: “In order to be fair to the other customers, and since they were there first, I needed to complete their orders first.”

(He calms down until I give him his food and he leaves, but it’s far from over. He leaves a comment on our online system, saying that I refused to serve him and that I intentionally didn’t want to deal with him. He also made some disparaging comments about my appearance and weight. However, the general manager watches the tapes with me and sees this guy acting a fool. Next time he comes in, the general manager stops him:)

General Manager: “We can no longer serve you, due to your previous attitude towards our employees.”

Customer: *yelling* “I’m a customer and you should do whatever I say!”

General Manager: “Let me stop you right there and ask you to look around. There are other customers in the restaurant, and the world doesn’t revolve around you. You should think about that the next time you want to be rude and ruin someone’s perfect score because you’re a douche.”

(The guy left in a bad attitude and hasn’t been seen since.)

Like most American teenagers, my first job was in a fast food restaurant. I went through my fair share of interesting stories, from the customer who laughed with me when his total came to $6.66 to an old woman who complained her milkshake was too cold, but the most memorable one didn’t even involve a customer.

Our walk-in freezer, naturally, didn’t lock, so as to prevent such incidents as those commonly seen on sitcoms. The outer freezer behind the first door was more like a fridge; the inner freezer behind a second door was much colder.

On an uneventful night, I go back to the inner freezer for more fries. As I go in, the heavy doors to the outer and then the inner freezer each swing shut behind me, as always. As I’m picking up the box, the lights suddenly go out, leaving me in pitch-black darkness. I then hear a commotion outside the inner door, followed by the voice of a female manager yelling.

The freezer is small and square, so, confused but not worried, I drop the box and easily fumble my way to the door, but when I push it open, I feel and hear it pushing against something on the other side. I squeeze out through the small opening I made to find a rack of salads half-blocking the door and the manager both trying to move it and screaming at a male employee my age. There was no freak power outage; he’d turned the lights off while I was inside and started barricading the door!

I barely know anything about this kid besides his name. We’ve had no significant or hostile interactions that I can remember, no arguments or anything that night. I don’t know if I did something to annoy him without realizing it, or if he just decided to play a joke on a random person. If so, none of the managers that night or the next day find it funny. I don’t even get to confront him myself; he’s sent home immediately. The manager who caught him apologizes to me profusely, makes sure I’m all right, and assures me he won’t get away with it.

Once she learns what happened, my mother calls them twice that night in outrage, but it’s unnecessary. None of the higher-ups hesitate or waste any time. He’s fired immediately, and I never see him again. Apparently, in the world of fast food, trying to barricade someone in a freezer with the lights out is a 100% indefensible action.

(A customer walks in and approaches my colleague.)

Customer: “You’ve stopped the fuel pumps; you’ve done it on purpose.”

Colleague: “No, the pump won’t work because you took it out of the car and tried to put it back in to refuel again.”

Customer: “No, you stopped it on purpose.”

Me: “No, sir. You tried to refuel again from the same pump; it won’t work as we have to authorise it first.”

Customer: *turns to my colleague and calls him a c***, and then threatens to break his legs*

Me: “Are you threatening him, sir?”

Customer: “No, but it would be good if his legs were broken.”

(The customer walked out of the shop. It was my colleague’s first day in the job. Apparently, the customer is always right?)

(I am the phone operator for the service department of an auto dealership. I receive incoming calls to the service department, and also send out calls for scheduled maintenance reminders, completed service, and recall notifications. I receive a call from a customer.)

Me: “Service Department. This is [My Name]; can I help you?”

Caller: “I received a call about a recall open on my car; I would like to find out what the recall is.”

Me: “I would be happy to find that out. Just a moment while I access your account.” *pulls it up on computer* “Okay, ma’am, I’m showing the open recall is for the evaporative canister, which is part of the emissions system.”

Caller: *screaming* “I swear to God, I hate your dealership! I had this taken care of! You need to take me off the f****** list!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but I must ask: did you get this done at a [My Automaker] dealership? Unless it is taken care of at a [My Automaker] dealership, the recall will remain open on your vehicle.”

Caller: *still screaming* “It doesn’t matter where I had the f****** job done; it was done, so take me off the list and stop calling me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is a [My Automaker] national list. I do not have the authority to alter that list. If you—“

Caller: *still angry* “I know I’ve dealt with you before! You’re nothing but a rude, stupid, ignorant b****!”

Me: *banging phone until customer hangs up, breaking my keyboard in the process*

Service Advisor: *in the hallway with frightened look* “Are you okay?”

Me: “No.” *explains what happened*

Service Advisor: *puts a note in the system to refuse service to this person in the future*

(If this person got the canister replaced with an original part, that part must still be replaced with the redesigned part to comply with the recall. If she does have the original part replaced with the recall part at another shop, she can get reimbursed, but only by contacting [My Automaker]; otherwise, she’s out her own money. And if this part isn’t replaced with the redesigned part, she will likely fail the Illinois automotive emissions tests, and be forced to get the care repaired anyway. Knowing this makes me feel a bit better.)