Customer: *Tossing a receipt at me* “You overcharged me, you stupid b****!”

Me: “You asked for the chicken combo with cajun fries?”

Customer: “Yeah! And I was overcharged twenty-five cents, you stupid b****!”

Me: “Please stop swearing, ma’am. The cajun fries are a twenty-five-cent upcharge from the regular combo.”

Customer: “That’s stupid! I want my money back!”

Me: “If you can give back the cajun fries, I can replace them with regular.”

Customer: “Stuck up [trans slur] b****!”

I am not trans, but I present as androgynous, and this has crossed a line for me as well as decent society. I take a quarter from the register and toss it on the floor.

Me: “Here, take your money and go. You don’t deserve any more of my time.”

Customer: “I will call corporate and get you fired!”

Me: “And it still would have been worth it. Next customer, please!”

I was not fired.

Related:
Oh, So Worth It

While not practicing, I have Jewish heritage and have a small Star Of David tattoo on the inside of my wrist to celebrate my family culture as well as hide a birthmark. I am checking out a customer when she spots the tattoo.

Customer: “Oh, you’re Jewish. I’d rather be served by a Christian, thank you.”

Me: “Well, it’s just me for now, ma’am. I’ll try not to Jew up any of your purchases.”

Customer: “What did you just say?! Get me your manager! I will have you fired!”

Me: “I am the manager on duty today, ma’am.”

Customer: “I will not be treated like this by a… by a non-Christian!”

Me: “’For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.’”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “Old Testament, ma’am. Basically, don’t judge a book by its cover. I converted to Christianity a few years ago, not that I would expect you to know what a good Christian looks like.”

The customer glares for a moment before leaving her basket and simply walking away. Later that night, our store manager (who actually is Jewish) calls and mentions he got a complaint from her. I tell him my side of the story.

Store Manager: “Ha! That’s great. I’ll just tell corporate you literally went Biblical on her a**.”

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I came out as asexual to my family. My siblings were fine with it, my mother was iffy, and my stepfather point-blank refused to believe asexuality was a thing besides in plants. It just didn’t exist to him. It was a hassle to get him to think otherwise.

Stepfather: “The dictionary said asexual is when a plant reproduces with itself. It’s not a sexuality or whatever. It’s with plants.”

Me: “That’s one definition, [Stepfather]. It’s also when someone has no interest in sex or sexual relationships. “

Stepfather: “If it’s not in the dictionary, it’s not true. It’s for plants.”

Me: “Fine, I’ll look it up.”

Stepfather: “I’m not talking about that Urban Dictionary s***. A real dictionary.”

I look it up.

Me: “HA! Webster’s Dictionary. ‘Asexual: not having sexual feelings toward others; not experiencing sexual desire or attraction.’ In the dictionary!”

My stepfather took my phone and read the definition, mumbled some inaudible nonsense, shoved the phone back into my hand, and stormed off without a word.

Both parents, who did their best/worst to keep me away from boys and sex, now regularly pull the “You haven’t found the right guy; once you do, you’ll love it” card. Gross. No, thanks.

A group of students is loudly enjoying a meal in our restaurant. One of them tells a rather rude joke and one of the students, Asian and with a thick accent, laughingly says in reply:

Asian Student: “Oh, wow. I’m going to have to shut my ears.”

Joke Teller: “Shut your ears? What kind of s***ty grammar is that?!”

Asian Student: *A bit embarrassed* “I meant… cover… my ears?”

Joke Teller: “You need to learn better! Your grammar is so s***ty! Who says ‘shut your ears’?”

Another diner at the next table has finally had enough of this loud and boisterous student.

Other Diner: “How about shut your f****** mouth?! Is that good enough grammar for you?!”

The drunk student did indeed shut that f****** mouth.

I am a bouncer checking IDs at a club entrance. I am also Asian.

Customer: “I forgot mine, but I’m obviously over twenty-one.”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t let you in without ID.”

Customer: “Ni-hao?”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “Konnichiwa?”

Me: “I can’t—”

Customer: “Annyeonghaseyo?”

Me: “Sir, you need to—”

Customer: “Selamat.”

Me: “Oh, no. You have used the secret password. Now I have to let you in.”

Customer: *Eyes wide* “Really?”

Me: “No! Sayonara!”