(It’s Christmas time and it’s super busy. I’m working in the jewelry department, helping an older woman pick out a pendant.)

Customer: “Oh, well, these look nice.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, they’re actually on sale, too. Let me grab some other pieces you might like.”

(I turn to see a man jogging towards the entrance of the store. A second later, our loss prevention man comes running by, jumps, and flies through the air, tackling the jogging man to the ground.)

Customer: “I think those two men are fighting, sir.”

Me: “Just checking the walls, ma’am.” *trying to act nonchalant to avoid causing a scene*

Customer: “Oh, you watch Fawlty Towers?”

(The woman completely forgot about the wrestling match one aisle over and I managed to make a delightful commission. Thanks, John Cleese.)

(A man hands me a tax check for $3,000 and asks to cash it all. Because of tax season, we are required to put a $25 fee on tax checks, due to the large amount of money we have coming in and out daily.)

Me: “Sir, to cash this I do have to charge you a fee of $25; however, it is free to deposit it, and you can access it from your debit card if you would like.”

Elderly Man: “You know, I didn’t just get on the boat and come up from Cuba. I’ve had my green card since I hit age 16. You d*** commies are always finding ways to take my money. I’m a resident of the USA, and I demand my check be cashed for free.”

Me: “Well, sir, I’m sorry, but we charge that fee because we have to express-order money, and we must pay a fee to do that. So, the $25 we charge you goes into making sure we have enough money in the building to cover checks like these.”

Elderly Man: “I ain’t paying no f****** fee! I’ll go to [Popular Retail Location]!”

Me: “Good luck, sir.”

(He comes back an hour later.)

Elderly Man: “Just cash the d*** check and take your fee!”

Me: “Have a good day, sir.”

Elderly Man: “F*****g commie.”

This story is part of our Ignorant-About-Communism roundup!

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(There is one coworker that everyone finds annoying. He often talks continuously about subjects no one is interested in, and he’s proven to be grossly incompetent at tasks around the theater. He’s alienated the entire staff, especially the girls, and no one likes to deal with him. It’s the end of the night shift and I have been home for hours when I receive a message from another coworker.)

Coworker: “Hey, [Annoying Coworker] got fired! Enjoy!”

(I check around with some other coworkers. Seems he was working in the box office when he called a heavyset black woman “Precious,” and she started crying. The manager on duty fired him on the spot. The next morning I’m walking to work when I run into the manager, who’s also on his way to the theater.)

Manager: “Hey, how’s it going?”

Me: “Doing all right… So… ‘Precious,’ huh?”

Manager: “Oh, God, that! Yeah. He crossed the line. I had to let him go. It seemed like he didn’t realize why everyone was upset with him. I felt bad for that lady, too. I thought she was going to slug him.”

(We continued talking about it on the way to the theater. The guy actually came back and tried go to work like nothing had happened. The manager ended up yelling at him to get out. Some people just can’t take a hint.)

(I work as a hotel clerk at a large chain hotel, and am going about my business like normal when an elderly man and his wife come to check in.)

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [Hotel]. How are you today?”

Customer: “Fine. Enough with the chit-chat. My name is [Customer]; check me in.”

Me: “Absolutely, sir. I just need to see a credit card and a photo ID to check you in.”

Customer: “Excuse ME?”

Me: “Oh, just a credit card an—”

Customer: “I HEARD what you SAID. How dare you ask me for an ID?”

Me: “It’s just standard policy, sir, to protect our guests and ourselves from credit card fraud. We ask every guest, even our VIPs, for an ID at check-in.”

Customer: “In all my years of staying at [Hotel Chain] I have NEVER been asked for my ID once at check-in! Do you KNOW who I am? I know the [Chain] owners personally, and they WILL be hearing from me. You can say goodbye to your job! This is unacceptable!”

Me: “Okay, sir, that is fine, but I will still need to see an ID to check you into this room.”

Customer: “I WILL HAVE YOUR JOB!” *throws nearby magazine at me and storms off, with an embarrassed-looking wife*

(But lo and behold, I STILL HAVE MY JOB! I don’t think they were as close with their “friends” as they thought they were.)

(I work at a parts store where we sometimes get some people whose mechanical knowledge is less than what they think. One particular day I get this gem of a customer.)

Me: “Hello, sir! Welcome to [Parts Store]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I bought your best most expensive brake pads a few months ago, and now they’re shot! I’d like a refund!”

Me: “Sir, with those brake pads you get a life time warranty. There’s no need for a refund; we’ll just give you a new set.”

Customer: “Why would I want a new set if they went bad in a few months?!”

(He continues to ream me for a solid ten minutes on the poor quality of the pads. At this point, he shows me the old pads. It is VERY obvious he had no idea what he was doing, and put the pads on upside down… Neither I, nor any of my coworkers, nor guys at a competitor parts store, can figure out how he managed to put the vehicle back together with them like that.)

Me: “Sir, I can’t refund these, nor can I give you a new set. The warranty doesn’t cover improper installation.”

Customer: *now red as a tomato* “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IMPROPER INSTALLATION?!” *he then calls me all sorts of names, none short of making fun of the fact that I have long hair* “Where is your manager?!”

Manager: “How can I help you today, sir?”

(The customer replays the story, even though my manager had no trouble hearing the encounter from his office.)

Manager: “Sir, we can’t replace these pads. They were obviously installed wrong. Our warranty does not cover improper installation.”

Customer: “How do you guys have jobs? These were installed by ME! I’m a mechanic, for Christ’s sake!”

Manager: “Hey [Coworker], can you come up here for a second? Tell me what’s wrong with these pads?”

Coworker: “Looks like they were installed upside down.” *walks back to the back of the store*

Customer: *yells some more obscenities, calls us all idiots, and storms out of the store*

(Another day on the job. Please treat the parts guys with some respect. We’re trying to help you, not make your life miserable!)