(I am a server. It’s not an easy gig by any means, and I always try to add a little humor to get myself through a shift while creating a positive dining experience. Each server does what we can to help the others out, especially if we are in the weeds. One of my coworkers asks if I can help deliver a dessert to one of her tables while she is finishing up a few of her other tables. I grab the dessert and walk it out to the guests.)

Me: “All right, who feels like a molten?!”

(Almost everyone at the table raises the hands amidst comments like, “Right here!” and “ME!”)

Me: “Well, good news! No one looks like one… BUT THIS DOES!”

(I pull the plate up, spin it on my finger — very carefully while keeping a hand near it — stop it, and put it on the table.)

Me: “Enjoy!”

Man At Table: “Thank you!”

(I’m smiling, they’re smiling, and I head toward the kitchen to finish up a few things before I go home, having no more tables, and see my coworker standing there, wide-eyed with her mouth open.)

Coworker: “What did you say to them?!”

Me: “What? Who?”

Coworker: “My table! What did you say to them when you gave them the molten?!”

Me: “Oh, it’s an old joke. I asked who felt like a molten, and said you don’t look like one, and gave it to them.”

Coworker: “Oh, my God! I can’t believe you said that! Are they pissed?”

Me: “Why would they be pissed off?”

Coworker: “Because… that sounded so racist!”

Me: *extremely confused* “Wh… uh… Why is it racist?”

Coworker: “Because they’re black!”

Me: “I don’t get it.”

Coworker: “Well, I’ll make sure they’re okay in a little bit. You have to be careful with things like that! It comes across racist!”

(She stormed away, leaving me more confused today than at the time. I don’t get how it could possibly have been considered racist at all.)

(I’m a ticket-taker in a major metropolitan movie theatre. It’s the opening weekend of a big superhero movie and it is incredibly busy. Our escalator is currently broken, but we offer guests our elevator. A woman refuses this offer, as she claims she can walk up stairs. I rip her ticket and then I hear a loud alarm.)

Woman: “WHY WON’T THE ESCALATOR WORK?!”

(She proceeds to keep hitting the emergency stop button, setting off the buzzer alarm.)

Me: “Ma’am, the escalator is broken and cannot be turned on. If you would like, the elevator is just across the lobby.”

Woman: “I WILL NOT BE TREATED LIKE A CHILD! MAKE THE MOVING STAIRS WORK!”

(I tell her to calm down and that our elevator is across the lobby. She decides that flapping her arms like a bird will make the escalator work.)

Woman: “MAKE THEM WORK! MAKE THEM WORK!”

(Her flapping motion eventually causes another guest to get seriously hurt and we have to call security. She refuses to move, and the police need to be called.)

Me: *to another guest after the woman is removed* “I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize we were doing a live performance of The Birds tonight.”

Guest: “Oh, that’s fine. I couldn’t get tickets to [Superhero Movie], so it made my night!”

Me: “Hello, sir, may I see your ID?”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “I’m supposed to get ID when someone buys beer.”

(The customer just continues to stare at me, as if expecting more of an explanation.)

Me: “It’s the law.”

Customer: “So, you just do whatever the government tells you to do?”

(I’m not really sure how to respond, so I just remain silent. The customer suddenly becomes obscenely angry.)

Customer: “Honestly, you’re no better than those Nazis throwing Jews in the oven!”

(He rattles off some more nonsense about how I’m a Nazi for daring to ask for his ID, and then some switch in his brain goes from crazy to horny.)

Customer: “But you’re pretty cute, so I guess I can show you just this once.”

(I work in a bakery that specializes in Jamaican products. For our wholesale customers, I provide a notice asking them to please call if they are unable to pick up their order. If we do not receive a call, their order will not be saved for them. We have one customer who NEVER comes for his order on the day he says he will, and so far he has received two notices, both of which I witnessed him read.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t have your order because it was supposed to be picked up last Saturday.”

Customer: “Oh, it wasn’t for pick up today?”

(Today is Tuesday.)

Me: “No, the invoice here says last Saturday. I can see if I have anything extra that I might be able to get you, but your order was used since you didn’t call.”

Customer: “Okay, okay, I won’t get mad.”

(I’m thinking to myself, “No, you can’t get mad, because I saw you read that notice and you never called, so you have no right to be mad.” I go check to see what I have available.)

Me: “Okay, here is what I was able to get you. I didn’t have any [bread]. Would you like to come for it tomorrow?”

Customer: “Okay, but not tomorrow.”

Me: “Okay, when?”

Customer: “The other day.”

Me: “Which other day?”

Customer: “You know, the other day.”

Me: “…”

Customer: *light-bulb goes off in his head* “Wednesday!”

Me: “Okay, sure, no problem. Have a nice day.”

(I work as hotel security. We get a call from a guest saying he wants to see me.)

Me: “Hello, sir, I’m Officer [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Guest: “Hey, I found these gloves on the floor in the hall.” *points to six winter gloves*

Me: “Okay, I can take those to lost and found.”

Guest: “No, I’m really upset. I mean, why would anyone leave gloves outside my door like that?”

(This is a new one.)

Me: “Well, somebody might have dropped them, or they left the gloves at the wrong room.”

Guest: “I want you to call the police. With everything going on, I’m really upset about this.”

Me: “Really? They’re… The police aren’t going to come for some gloves. I can take them to lost and found, but…”

Guest: “No, I want you to call the police.”

(Policy is to contact our patrol before the police, and this is too stupid to not share. On the way over, the responding officer says I need to be more of a d**k.)

Patrol Officer: “Hello, sir, what’s the problem?”

Guest: “Well, I found these gloves outside my door, and I want to call the police.”

Patrol Officer: “They’re not going to come. If you call them, they will laugh at you. We can take the gloves to lost and found, but otherwise there’s nothing else I can do.”

Guest: “No, I’ll keep them. Good night.”

(Later, I got a call from a police officer. The guest went ahead and called them. The cop asked if I had it under control, and laughed when I told him I had everything in hand. I called the guest back, just to tell him the police were not going to respond to his call about gloves. I offered to take them off his hands again, but he insisted on holding on to them. I guess he thought that if they were dangerous, he was better trained or equipped than law enforcement.)