(We have an event going on where we have our chain character dressed up to do a little something for the kids. There is a giveaway and some face painting, music, and coupons for free food in our store. We also have some coupons circulating in the mail that many people can bring in, as well. It is packed, with barely any elbow room for anyone. A man has brought his family for the event and he has a coupon from the mail. It states in large letters, “Buy one meal, receive a free sandwich.” Simple enough, right? He puts in his order and I read it back to him, and he says okay and pays. After I hand him the receipt and his drinks:)

Customer: “Excuse me, you forgot a cup.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me double check.”

(After looking over the order, I determine that I have given him the right amount.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I only rung you up for that amount of drinks. Would you like me to charge you for another one?”

Customer: “No! I want what I ordered!”

(He looks over the receipt and finds the issue.)

Customer: “See here! You only put the sandwich for free! It was for a free meal!”

Me: “No, sir, this coupon has come through many times and I assure you: it is to buy a meal, get a free sandwich.”

Customer: “No, you’re wrong, b****!”

(I am taken aback by his rude comment and I have no time for this because I have more customers to assist.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not. Next!”

(Luckily, he left it at that.)

(I am at a store getting a footlocker. It is a fairly cheap plastic one, but it is all I can afford. There is only one left on the shelf and it has a padlock on it. I wave down a nearby employee to show him and she finds it odd. She radios in for someone to bring bolt cutters from maintenance to cut the lock. After ten minutes, someone comes with bolt cutters and cuts the lock. After he cuts the lock off, someone comes by fuming that they did that.)

Customer: “HEY! THAT WAS MY LOCK! YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO DO THAT!”

Employee: “Miss, calm down!”

Customer: “No! That was my lock, and now he went and broke it!”

Employee: “Miss, the maintenance guy cut it off so that this gentleman can buy this.”

Customer: “That’s why I put the lock on: so no one else would take it.”

Employee: “Miss, you can’t do that.”

Customer: “YES, I CAN!”

Employee: “Miss, calm down, or I’m going to have security escort you out.”

Customer: “No, I put that lock on there so no one else would take it. That makes it mine.”

Employee: “Miss, that does not make it yours. If you wanted it, you would have put it your cart and paid for it.”

Customer: “No, I had no room in my cart!”

Employee: “Well, miss, that is your problem.”

(She then looks at me.)

Customer: “Give that to me now.”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “What did you just say to me?”

Me: “I said no.”

(She tries to take it out of my cart, but I push her away and she starts screaming. The employee then turns to me.)

Employee: “Sir, go ahead and continue your shopping while I handle her.”

(I continue my shopping and go to check out to pay for the footlocker. When I get outside, the cops are there talking to her. She spots me and points me out to the cops.)

Customer: “That’s him, officer; he’s the one that pushed me.”

Officer: “Sir, please come here so we can ask you a few questions.”

Me: “There a problem, officer?”

Officer: “This woman says you shoved her over that footlocker in your cart.”

Me: “Yeah, she tried to steal it from my cart.”

Customer: “I had my lock on there; that makes it mine.”

Officer: *confused* “Hold on. Was this lock on there while the footlocker was on the shelf?”

Customer: “Yeah, I put it on there so no one else would take it.”

Officer: “Miss, you can’t do that.”

Customer: “YES, I CAN!”

Officer: “Miss, lower your voice. And no, you cannot do that. If you wanted that footlocker, you should’ve put that in your cart.”

Customer: “BUT HE PUSHED ME!”

Officer: “Miss, from the way this story is being told, from you and him, you tried to steal it from him, so him pushing you away was justified.” *turns to me* “Sir, you’re free to go.” *turns back to her* “You, on the other hand, miss, are under arrest for causing a public disturbance.”

(She started screaming as I went back to my car, and continued screaming as the cops cuffed her and put her in the back of the squad car.)

(A project manager sends an email to all contractors who are scheduled to work on a project to upgrade computers for a large bank. Of course, even computer professionals will use “reply all.”)

Contractor #1: “Will do, thank you.”

Contractor #2: “Please remove me from emails. Thank you.”

Contractor #3: “Same here; please remove me, as well. Thanks.”

Contractor #4: “Please remove me from the emails.”

Contractor #5: “No need to ‘Reply To All’ for this request! Rookies!”

Contractor #2: “We reply all to make sure everyone got it… so don’t start the name-calling or feel any type of way, [Contractor #5]. Thank you all.”

Contractor #5: “Screw off, [Contractor #2]. I don’t even work for [Bank].”

Contractor #6: “PLEASE REMOVE ME FROM THIS LISTING.”

Contractor #2: “I couldn’t care less! You decided to say something back, and if that is the best you can say back… then why ‘reply all,’ f*** boy?”

Contractor #7: “Thank you for the reminder; however, I will not be able to do the training because I am in the middle of a project in another state.”

Project Manager: “For those of you who have requested to be removed: I will do so as I receive the requests. The other comments need to stop, please.”

Contractor #8: “Please remove me. Thank you.”

Contractor #9: “Remove me, as well.”

Contractor #10: “People, Please just reply to the original sender, not all.”

(The project manager sent her next email using blind carbon copy.)

(Due to the coroner’s report on drownings in supervised areas, pools almost everywhere have a rule in place that children six and under need parental supervision in the water. Where I lifeguard, we have a huge Olympic pool and a kiddie pool that gets up to three feet deep. I am working during instructional time and notice a little girl, no older than four, going back into the kiddie pool alone after her lesson. Usually, in this case, I try to talk to the parent, but I don’t see one around. So, assuming the girl just went in on her own, I tell her very nicely that she has to have someone with her in the water. She nods and leaves. A few minutes later, a man approaches me.)

Man: *nicely* “Excuse me. What’s your name?”

Me: *thinking he’s going to ask me a question, gives him my name*

Man: “Thank you.” *walks away*

Me: “Wait, what?”

(I then watched him go up to the office to talk to the person in charge of lessons. I then watched him turn red from screaming and pointing at me, while I was trying not to laugh in the background. He eventually stormed off with the little girl I had spoken to earlier. When I got off rotation, it was explained to me that the man swore constantly, talking about how he was going to jump me after work and f****** end me… all because I was following a province-wide regulation and saving his daughter from drowning. The kicker? He was already on a warning for the comments he had made about the instructor for his daughter. His words exactly: “I don’t want that fat f*** teaching my daughter.” A phone call was made to inform the family that the man was banned from the centre for life. To this day, I still WISH I had been the one to make the call, especially if his wife picked up.)

(I am a seventeen-year-old waitress and barista at a cafe. I have recently begun to work in the kitchen due to severe understaffing. Our only chef is the owner, and during busy times, I am called in while waitressing in order to help get orders out. Today is the final day of Spring Break and I am waiting five tables, and I have been called into the kitchen, as well, to help orders. I am working as hard as I can. I get a table of two who are in a hurry due to jury duty. I inform them that the kitchen is a little backed up and orders may take a while. I get their drinks very quickly and put their order in as soon as possible; however, I have also inputted three other tables’ orders along with theirs. I go into the kitchen to work with the food.)

Husband: *when I come out to check tables, fifteen minutes after their order has been placed* “Excuse me. We are going to be late for jury duty. Where is our food?”

(They have only been here for about twenty minutes.)

Me: “It’s currently being made; however, as I told you, there’s a delay in the kitchen. Can I get you any refills on drinks?”

(They have drained their drinks.)

Husband: “Is it being brought out right now?” *becoming angrier* “We need our food. We’re going to be late.”

Me: “Let me check.”

(The owner is knee-deep in orders and I have to pop in to check on the salad. Our weekly food order has been delivered so there are boxes COVERING the walkway from the dish area to the kitchen. I see that she has the lettuce put down and ingredients out.)

Me: *returning to the table* “She is plating them right now. Would you like it boxed to go?”

Husband: “It’s too late now! We can’t bring food into court!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. I’ll take the food off the bill and bring over the check for drinks.”

(The usual wait on food is about fifteen minutes. Their food is not late, and they were warned, so I am reluctant to discount their expensive drinks. I go over to the POS within sight of them and print out their check, and bring it to them.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about that. Are you sure you don’t want to see if there’s anything you’d like to go?”

Husband: *irate* “It’s too late now!”

(They got up and left without paying the bill, which was about $7. It doesn’t seem like much but our typical checks are $15 to $20 because we’re pretty inexpensive, and I really do need the tips. I told the owner, and she was frustrated. However, my other tables were very kind, I got their food out within twenty minutes of their orders being placed, and they gave me big tips. My mother pointed out later in the day that I could have called the police on them, since I knew they were at the city court about five minutes away!)