(My coworker, who is in high school and only on his third shift, and I close the alley at 10 and spend the next hour cleaning and closing up. At 11 pm, we lock the doors and start chatting about the night, when a car pulls up.)

Customer: “Are you guys closed?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we closed at 10 tonight.”

Customer: “Well, we want to bowl.”

(Both people from the car are now out and walking towards the door. Coworker and I are now next to our cars, getting ready to leave.)

Me: “Well, we’re closed now but will open again tomorrow at 10 am.”

Customer: “No, we want to bowl now. Get back in there and let us bowl.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t. All the machines are off, the computers are shut down, and the doors are locked. If you come back tomorrow, we are open until midnight.”

Customer: “Listen, b****, you aren’t getting it. You are going to open the f*** back up and let us in! We came here to f****** bowl and we are going to f****** bowl.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but we are CLOSED. We are currently going home so no, you are not bowling tonight. Please, just come back tomorrow and you’ll be able to.”

(This entire time, the customer’s friend has been staring at us, obviously getting angrier and angrier with every word. He has now moved so he is blocking my car door, so I cannot get in and he grabs my arm.)

Customer’s Friend: “OPEN THE F****** DOORS RIGHT NOW, YOU STUPID LITTLE W****! I DON’T CARE IF YOU’RE CLOSED. WE CAME HERE TO BOWL AND YOU ARE GOING TO LET US F****** BOWL. DO YOUR JOB YOU LAZY PIECE OF S*** OR I WILL F****** MAKE YOU!”

(While the customers were busy berating us, they did not see the police officer who patrols our parking lot every night pull in and walk up behind them.)

Cop: “Let go of the girl’s arm and put your hands up NOW!”

(He arrested them both for being drunk in public and the friend for assault. We had to give statements and meet with the cops and management the next day to tell what happened and give them the security footage. We assured my coworker that this was a first time incident but I was still pretty surprised he came back!)

(I work at a bowling alley as a waitress. Near the end of my shift, four customers get a lane in the bar side of the alley. It’s painfully obvious that none of them are old enough to buy alcohol. The first customers are a young man who looks 19 and his girlfriend, who appears to be 17.)

Me: “Hello, may I take your order?”

Young Man: “Yeah, we’d like a plate of nachos and a shot of [Brand] whiskey.” *tries not to look at his girlfriend*

Me: *overly brightly* “Of course! May I see your ID, please?”

Young Man: *fidgets* “No, that’s cool. Never mind.”

(I walk off, shaking my head when he’s out of sight. The next time I walk by, his girlfriend seems angry with him. The girl, who was sitting right next to her boyfriend when I asked for his ID, waves me over.)

Me: “Yes, may I help you?”

Girlfriend: “Yeah, a [Same Brand] whiskey.”

Me: *even brighter than before, smiling so widely my jaws hurt* “Of course! May I see your ID, please?”

Girlfriend: *stares coldly, then turns away*

(I didn’t hear a peep out of them the rest of the night except for more nachos. Playing dumb beats real dumbness every time!)

(I am working at the counter of a bowling alley inside of a busy shopping mall when a older man in his 70s walks in:)

Older Man: “Hi. Where are your bathrooms, young man?”

(I point down the hall at the sign that says “restrooms”. He walks down and I continue my side-work. About 15 minutes later the older man comes back up to my counter.)

Older Man: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes, what can I do for you?”

Older Man: “I hope you have somebody here with a strong constitution to clean up in there.”

(Looking very proud of himself he walks out of the alley and back into the mall. I then walk into the men’s room to see what he is talking about. The older man had defecated all over the floor, walls, toilet bowl lid, handicap rail, and anything else in the stall. I quickly run out and put a closed sign over the men’s room. I go to my manager and explain what had happened and he starts laughing hysterically.)

Manager: “Dude! I can’t believe he did it again! This old man has done this twice before. He refused to pay [amount] for bowling shoes for his grandson when we first opened and now has gotten back at us by doing this.”

Me: “So what should I do about this? It’s horrific in there.”

Manager: “Just leave it. I’ll have [Store Manager] do it. He’s the one who was making the old man buy shoes in the first place.”

(This is an upscale bowling alley that allows you to make lane reservations. This is probably only my second or third day working there.)

Me: *on the phone* “Thank you for calling [Bowling Alley]. This is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Can I make a reservation?”

Me: “Yes, sir, but I’m afraid we only allow online reservations.”

Customer: “That’s stupid.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that’s just our policy.”

Customer: “Can’t you just make an exception since I already called you?”

Me: “I’m afraid not. We aren’t allowed to manually enter reservations into our computers. But you can go to our website and set one up there. Would you like me to help you with that?”

Customer: *says this in a completely serious tone* “Well, it just so happens that ALL of my fingers are broken! So now what?”

Me: *completely without thinking* “How are you going to bowl?!”

Customer: “Never mind.” *click*

(Every other Saturday, we have a huge group of adults come into the local bowling alley. All of them have Down’s Syndrome. Most of them come up to order with a helper, but there are a few who want to do this by themselves. Today we have a new employee and she is taking orders out front while I cook.)

Coworker: “OH MY GOD! [My Name] can you come out here?”

(I walk out from the to see what’s going on. There is one man at the counter.)

Coworker: “I can’t understand a thing this f****** retard is saying. This is stupid.”

Me: “[Coworker]!”

(The man at the counter starts crying and runs out of the lobby.)

Me: “What the h***? Don’t call the customers that!”

Coworker: “Why not? He’s retarded; he doesn’t even know what it means.”

Me: *sarcastically* “You’re right; that’s why he ran out of here in tears.”

(I leave the snack area and find the man, still in tears talking to his friends.)

Me: “Hey, I want to apologize for what my coworker said back there.”

Man: “She called me a bad name.”

Me: “She did, and that was wrong of her. Why don’t you tell me what you want, and I’ll go and make it for you.”

(He tries to tell me what he wants, but it’s hard to make out. I work with him, asking him a couple questions until I finally figure it out.)

Man: “I have money.”

Me: “Don’t worry about the money; today it’s free.”

(I walk back into the kitchen and make his food. My coworker is scoffing the whole time. When he comes to pick up his food, she tries to charge him but I stop her.)

Coworker: “You’re not supposed to give out free food.”

Me: “You’re not supposed to insult the customers. I’ll just take his payment out of your share of tips.”

Coworker: “Like h*** you will.”

Me: “Did you know that [Owner]’s youngest daughter was born with Down’s?”

(My coworker avoids me for the rest of the day, and at the end of her shift she doesn’t complain about me taking her tips to pay for his food. I talk with the manager and my coworker is taken off Saturdays from then on.)