I work in a restaurant. I had this table yesterday with a normal-looking dude and his wife. I thought everything was going really smoothly, and they seemed nice. They had drinks and an appetizer, but the main dish that they ordered takes longer than our other dishes.

Me: “I just want to warn you before I put your order in that this particular dish takes longer than our other dishes. Is that okay?”

Couple: “That’s fine; we’re not in a hurry.”

During this time, I constantly gave them refills, checked on them, etc. I saw that their food ticket was next in line in the window, so I went to the couple and let them know.

Me: “Your food is coming up; it’ll be just another two minutes.”

I went to get my other table another refill, and as I was walking by the couple, the man stopped me. Out of nowhere, he was angry.

Man: “WE HAVE BEEN HERE FOR THREE HOURS! I WANT TO LEAVE!”

They had only been there for forty minutes; I wasn’t even working three hours before that! Instead of arguing, I told him his food was ready and I could pack it to go if he liked.

Man: “No! And I’m not paying for it, either!”

This is where it’s important to know that my manager is Hispanic. He’s more on the light side, so maybe it’s not noticeable to others? The couple was Hispanic, as well.

Man: “I don’t want to pay for any of this. We’re leaving!”

Manager: “You have to at least pay for the appetizer and the drinks, but I won’t count your entrée.”

They argued, and the couple ended up paying and leaving.

Not even five minutes later, my manager came up to me.

Manager: “That couple just left us a bad review! They said I was racist and that I was discriminating against them because they were Hispanic. They accused me of referring to them as ‘these people’. I didn’t say that!”

We laughed about it.

When I went home, I decided to read the review myself. Then, I looked into this guy’s past reviews, and it turned out that he literally does this at every single restaurant or other place he goes to. I took screenshots and sent them to my manager, and we had another laugh about it.

By the way, I showed my manager the ticket times for everything (drinks, apps, the food.) He was also the one who seated them, so he knew good and well that they weren’t there for longer than forty minutes.

I am a female shopping in a major big box department store in Kentucky. The store rents out space in the main aisle passing the electronics department for a local cable and Internet provider to sell their services.

I am walking to the arts and crafts department when one of the cable and Internet provider’s representatives steps in front of my path. It is worth noting that I am originally from New York and I have been known to cuss a little bit.

Representative: “I think that you really need to sign up for my service!”

He goes into a long pitch while I am attempting to step around him, and he continually moves so I can’t walk past him.

Me: “Look, dude, I am not interested in your service! I live in an extremely remote part of the area, and your service isn’t even available where I live! Leave me the f*** alone and stop blocking me!”

I am able to get past him, and he continues to follow me to the arts and crafts department, which is a full seven aisles away from the electronics department.

I turn back to look at him.

Me: “What did I tell you?! Quit f****** following me! You are really making me uncomfortable!”

Meanwhile, an elderly employee of the store’s arts and crafts department steps into my path to confront me about cussing at the cable and Internet salesman.

Employee: “Miss, you shouldn’t cuss! All you have to do is tell him, ‘no, thank you,’ and keep walking! I am going to call the police and report you for using foul language in public!”

Me: “The dude was following me and he wouldn’t quit! What else was I supposed to do? Get me your manager now!”

The store manager is called over, and I explain what both the representative and the employee did.

Manager: “[Employee], why didn’t you stop the rep from following this young lady? And [Representative], why did you keep following her when she told you to leave her alone?”

Employee: “But she cursed, and it is offensive! No woman should be allowed to curse!”

Representative: “I just really wanted to make a sale, and she kept trying to avoid me! What else could I do?”

Manager: “Both of you are wrong! [Employee], I am going to write you up for harassing a customer! And you, [Representative]! I have received multiple complaints about you and the other reps harassing customers! Your company is about to have its lease terminated due to your behavior!”

The manager apologized to me and promises me that the incident would be dealt with.

The next time that I went into the store, the company’s booth wasn’t there, and one of the employees told me that the company’s lease had indeed been terminated! The store employee now gives me dirty looks whenever I come into the store.

I work in a cellphone store inside a high-end mall. I sometimes think we’re out of place nestled between all the Pradas and Balenciagas, but then again some of the high-end smartphones aren’t cheap, either.

Three women walk in: a grandmother, her daughter, and her granddaughter in her mid-teens. The grandmother is old money (I can tell from working in this mall) with the hat, the bag, and the shoes, each one likely worth more than my annual salary. She is looking around the place with an air of disdain.

The following conversation has been drastically shortened for brevity, but all the important points are intact.

Granddaughter: “I’d like an iPhone, please!”

Daughter: “She’s just starting high school at [Fancy Private School], and she doesn’t want to be the only one without a phone.”

Me: “Haha, yes, I remember what it was like when I was her age.”

Grandmother: *Scoffs* “You were nothing like her when you were her age.”

I ignore the WASPy grandmother like I’ve learned how to do; it comes with the territory from working at this mall.

Me: “Let’s get you set up.”

Granddaughter: “It will be nice to finally be on Facebook.”

Grandmother: “Facebook? Like what Imelda uses? No, no, you can’t be seen doing that!”

Granddaughter: “What are you talking about, Grandma? Imelda said she wanted to send me a friend request.”

Daughter: *To me* “Sorry about my mother. Imelda is the daughter of my mother’s maid. She has some… outdated ideas.”

Grandmother: “I’m sure Imelda is a lovely girl, but she lives in her world and we live in ours. Can we get a phone that has a better Internet?”

Me: “What do you mean, ma’am?”

Grandmother: “Do they do like, high-end phones? With Internet for a more… sophisticated clientele?”

Granddaughter: “Grandma! I already told you, there’s just the one Internet!”

Grandmother: “Yes, but I just don’t understand. I want you to only be using the finer parts of the Internet.” *To me* “Does the Internet have an executive lounge?”

Me: “Well, we just sell the phones here, ma’am. How our customers use the Internet when they purchase it is not our business.”

Grandmother: “So, everyone is just out there… using the same… the same Internet?”

Me: “Well… yes?”

Grandmother: “No, no, no. This simply will not do! No granddaughter of mine will be fraternizing with… with the rabble!”

She walks out with a confident stride, but this falters when she turns around and sees that her daughter and granddaughter aren’t following her. I’ve witnessed moments when the matriarch of an old money family realizes she’s not getting her way, and it’s beautiful.

Grandmother: “Did I not make myself clear? We’re leaving!”

Daughter: “We will, as soon as [Granddaughter] gets her phone.”

The grandmother makes a delicate little “harrumph” noise and calls for a manager. She explains her “situation” to him.

Manager: “So, let me get this right. You want me to refuse service to your daughter and granddaughter because they’ll be using the same Internet as everyone else?”

Grandmother: “Yes. I just need to take them home and have the time to explain to them why this isn’t appropriate.”

Manager: “Well, from what I understand, you’re purchasing an iPhone today, yes? Those are pretty expensive, which makes them exclusive. While everyone does use the same Internet, it runs faster and… uh… prettier on the iPhone, so it’s still a ‘first-class’ experience.”

Grandmother: “Hmm, I don’t know. I’m still not comfortable with this.”

My manager goes into more detail about parental controls, the high-quality finish of the iPhone, and such, but he continues to word things in a way to make it seem that the granddaughter would still be exhibiting her wealthy means and status. A 120Hz screen refresh rate becomes “an upper-class refreshment experience”, and iCloud storage becomes “an executive digital lounge only accessible to those with membership privileges.” It is a thing of beauty.

While all this is happening, I am processing the sale, and I ask the mother:

Me: “If you don’t mind me asking, how does your mother use a phone?”

Daughter: “She has a personal assistant who has one and then passes it to her when she needs to use it. I don’t think her fingers have ever actually dialed a phone since the old rotary phone days.”

Me: “Oh… my.”

We got the daughter set up on her new iPhone. I hope she makes more nice friends who don’t need an “upper-class Internet”!

Related:
Sooo Not Ready For The Internet, Part 6
Sooo Not Ready For The Internet, Part 5
Sooo Not Ready For The Internet, Part 4
Sooo Not Ready For The Internet, Part 3
Sooo Not Ready For The Internet, Part 2

I work at a retailer that cashes paychecks at the customer service desk. A woman comes up to my register with one of those large Bluetooth earpieces, talking the whole time.

Me: “Hi, how—”

She just drops a check on the countertop.

Me: “Okay. Do you have—”

Customer: *Flicks her ID at me* “I have to catch the bus. Can you hurry?”

Me: “Sure.”

I go through my process while the woman talks to the person on the phone. I finally get to this part of the process:

Me: “Are you loading any of this on a card today? The $3 fee is waived for doing it in one transaction.”

She states a number, a partial amount of the check.

Me: “Are you loading that, or is that what you want in cash?”

Customer: *Heavy sigh* “Is this really that difficult?”

Me: *With a big old customer service smile* “I’m just asking for clarity to give you the best service possible.”

Customer: “Give me my f****** check back. I’m done with your r****ded a**.”

Me: “The system has already processed it. I—”

Customer: “Give me the f****** check!”

Me: “It’s already cashed. I can’t.”

Customer: “Jesus f****** Christ. [Store] only hires the mentally handicapped, and you are their queen. Just give me the whole thing in cash and I’ll fix your mistake later.”

I finish the transaction, and she snatches the cash from my hand before I can count it for her. She storms off, and I call for a manager immediately. I explain the situation and ask for my drawer to be counted. It is spot on. An hour later, the woman returns and corners the manager.

Customer: “Your f****** a**hole over there wouldn’t cash my check, and then she stole my money!”

Manager: “If she wouldn’t cash your check, how could she steal your money?”

Customer: “She stole—”

Manager: “We already checked the cameras. You snatched the money from her hand and left without counting it.”

Customer: “Which means you don’t know if she did short me! I want her fired!”

Manager: “Fortunately, we already counted the drawer. It’s correct. If you’re missing money, that is not our fault.”

Customer: “F*** every single one of you!”

The woman stormed out again. She tried to kick over a display but missed and ended up on her butt. She got up quickly and ran out the door.

When I am fresh out of college, I work for a company that produces and sells meters, switchboards, and testing equipment. We sell to suppliers, contractors, the military, etc.

A client calls looking for a specific meter for a factory.

Me: “Sir, the amps you’re requesting won’t work with the scale you want.”

Client: *In a very condescending voice* “Well, okay, honey. Why don’t you just put your boss on so I can finish my business?”

I’m irked, but I walk to my boss’s cubicle and tell him the story.

Boss: “Stand here while I talk to him.”

He picks up the phone, and I listen to him “uh-huh” and “hmmm.” He then says:

Boss: “Geez, I don’t know if that would work, but I can put you on with our chief engineer, [My Very Female Name].” *Winks at me*

Smug had changed to sheepish when I got back on the phone!

This was 1986 in the Midwest, and I never forgot it.