(I am a cashier at a large supermarket, working in the express lane with a sign: “eight items or less.” A guy pulls up with a cart full of groceries.)

Me: *politely* “Sir, this is an express lane.”

(He keeps unloading and either really doesn’t hear me or ignores me. I repeat myself, but by then half his cart is on the belt.)

Customer: “There’s no line.”

(That much is true. I start ringing him up. The fight that I feel I might start if I insist on him moving isn’t worth it to me. As we are finishing up the order:)

Me: *again, politely* “In the future, please pay attention to the sign that says, ‘eight items or less.’”

Customer: “But I was looking at that lane sign.” *pointing to the next lane* “That lane wasn’t an express lane.”

Me: “Do you mean the lane sign where the light is out telling you that the lane is closed?”

(He had the decency at least to look a little embarrassed.)

(A customer approaches me to find a shirt for his wife.)

Me: “Okay, sir, what size shirt does your wife wear?”

Customer: “Oh, gosh, I dunno… She’s about your size; what size do you wear?”

Me: *slightly uncomfortable* “Um, I wear a medium.”

Customer: *eyes me up and down* “Pfffft, really?”

(Thanks, dude, because working here wasn’t lowering my self-esteem quite enough.)

I’m at a hockey game waiting in line for a drink. A few people ahead of me in the next line over there were this mother and son. It was clear the boy had some sort of mental handicap. 

As this guy who had just bought drinks and food was walking away from the counter, the boy accidentally ran into him and knocked everything out of the guy’s arms. But, even after seeing that this boy clearly had a handicap, and after his mother apologized several times and offered to pay for all of his food and drinks, instead of exercising a little patience or showing a little human decency, this guy said:

“Are you f****** kidding me?! He shouldn’t be allowed out in public! What kind of person brings someone like him out around other people? From now on, try keeping your d*** [ableist slur] on a leash!”

Just as a couple of people in line started to move forward and shut this jerk up, an older woman — maybe in her mid-60s — walked up to him and just slapped him right across the face! 

She said, “You are the only disgrace that I see! How dare you speak to another person like that?! Who on Earth raised you? If I were your mother, I would be embarrassed, and you should feel so ashamed.” 

And then, to top it all off… another gentleman in line paid for this mother and her son’s food and the jerk stormed off, empty-handed and pouting. 

God, I love Bostonians.

I work at the front desk at a hotel and it’s a few days before Christmas. A guy comes in to check in and he seems a bit grumpy, but he just drove from Tennessee to Massachusetts so it’s understandable. He tells me he’s here to see his girlfriend for Christmas. I get him checked in and he goes to his room.

About an hour later, he comes to the lobby and says he needs to check out because his girlfriend is cheating on him. He looks so defeated and sad. I wonder to myself, how did he find out so fast? Also, it should be a red flag that he’s staying in a hotel and not with her.

He says he’s going to drive to Virginia to stay with a friend. I don’t want to interfere, but I tell him he should get some rest since the room is his for the night and I will void out the rest of the nights. He just wants to leave immediately. A few days later, he writes a positive review of the hotel and thanks us for being so understanding of his circumstances. I hope he heals from this.

(I work in an antique store. On this particular day, I have just started my shift and am standing at the counter filling out part of my daily paperwork. I glance up and greet the customers, two young guys maybe in their 20s, when I hear the bell go off. They go off into an area of the store I can’t see from the counter, but soon I hear them playing on one of the vintage guitars we have in stock. This normally wouldn’t be a problem — that’s why we keep them on the floor — until a few moments later when I hear a lot of crashing, followed by a lot of swearing.)

Customer #1: “OH, S***, OH, S***, OH, S***, OH, F***!”

Customer #2: “DUDE! WHAT THE F***?!”

(Naturally, I have to investigate. I find them standing there, guitar and stand on the floor and a few other displays with expensive and rare merchandise scattered and broken on the floor. I swear it’s like a scene from a bad comedy movie! They look at each other and then back at me, while I stand there with my hands raised in the biggest “WTF” stance I can muster.)

Customer #1: “Uh… that… wasn’t us.”

Customer #2: “No, moron, you’re right. It wasn’t us! It was you!”

(I had to call my manager in and, with a lot of arguing and his insistence that he had found it that way, we managed to get him to pay for at least part of the stuff he broke and he was strongly encouraged not to come back! His friend paid for what he couldn’t and apologized profusely for his idiot friend. I really still can’t figure out how he managed to do so much damage trying to put a guitar on the stand! Thanks to that genius, now we have the guitars on the wall and a policy that says if someone wants to test it, it has to be done by the register where there are no displays!)