(I serve people their orders when they’re ready. If they’re old, a child, or otherwise seemingly unable to carry their tray, I’m required to offer assistance. On this day, an elderly man orders his food.)

Me: “Do you need any help carrying that?”

Elderly Customer: “Do I LOOK like I need help?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I’m required to offer help to people.”

Elderly Customer: “Is this something that Obama is making you do?! D*** socialist!”

Me: “N-no, sir… it’s the policy here.”

Elderly Customer: “Well, I don’t need no d*** assistance!” *storms off with food*

This story is part of our Presidents Day 2024 roundup!

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(I am a short, 100 pound fifteen-year-old girl, and a lot of people try to intimidate me. I work in a fairly large bakery, with plenty of seats that are blocked off from the cashier.)

Customer #1: “Hi, can I get a brownie please?”

Me: “Sure thing!”

(I notice there is one, broken brownie left.)

Me: “If you like, ma’am, you can wait just one minute and there will be a fresh, unbroken one for you.”

Customer #1: “DON’T F***ING TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU ARE REFUSING ME SERVICE, YOU LAZY B****! GET ME A F***ING BROWNIE!”

Me: *shocked* “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll get that right away.”

Customer #1: *suddenly nice and sweet* “Thank you, honey!”

Me: “Here you go!”

(Customer #1 takes one look at it and goes berserk.)

Customer #1: “THIS IS F***ING BROKEN! I AM NOT EATING THIS S***!”

(Suddenly, she launches herself at me and grabs me by the hair. I have very long, very sensitive hair, so she has no trouble dragging me over the counter and onto the ground. She starts kicking me and screaming. Two customers rush to my rescue, restraining her and helping me off the ground.)

Customer #2: “Are you alright?”

Me: *shaking like a leaf* “I think so.”

(Customer #1 suddenly breaks free and rushes at me. I shriek rather loudly, but Customer #2 heroically jumps in front of her, effectively shielding me. The mall security has by now subdued her, but I still burst into tears. However, everything ended well: afterwards, Customer #2 bought me a coffee, and we have been dating for the past few months!)

(I’m just over six feet tall and female. I regularly get very obnoxious questions/remarks about how tall I am, but this is by far the worst. I’ve just finished helping a customer select some products.)

Me: “If you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to ask!”

Customer: “Actually, I do have one question… how tall are you?”

Me: “Just over six feet.”

Customer: “Oh my god. I just feel absolutely terrible for you. Your life must be incredibly difficult.”

Me: “Um… no. I pretty much function just like everybody else.”

Customer: “No way. I thought I had it bad! I’m 5 feet 7 inches and I can’t find a boyfriend because of how tall I am! Do you even date at all? Or are all of the guys half your size?”

Me: “Well… I have dated guys a few inches shorter than me. It doesn’t bother me, though.”

Customer: “That’s just insane. I’ll bet you don’t wear heels either, right? I can’t wear them because I look like a f***ing amazon! You’d probably just look like a freak!”

Me: “Well, I’ve worn heels before. I just prefer not to, because I don’t find them very comfortable.”

Customer: “I’ll bet you don’t! You probably look ridiculous!”

Caller: “I would like free shipping for this product.”

Me: “We’re sorry, but we don’t have any free shipping deals today.”

Caller: “I want free shipping.”

Me: “There is no free shipping, so I really can’t give you free shipping.”

Caller: “I don’t want the product, then.”

(I decide to try another approach.)

Me: “How about I add $6.99 to your order and then give you free shipping? Would that be okay?”

Caller: “That would be great! Thank you so much! Thanks for the great customer service!”

Me: “Okay, sir. You go have a good day.”

Caller: “Thank you! Thanks for the free shipping!”

(I am a caucasian female working as a concierge in a hotel in Chicago, but I grew up in Korea. This particular group of guests has been causing havoc their entire stay, stealing items and bothering other patrons in the halls. One night, the television in the lounge has been smashed, so my boss calls the police on them. They are sitting on the sofa while the officer is trying to get their details. Before every answer, the guests converse amongst themselves in Korean.)

Officer: “Where are you boys from?”

Guest #1: *in Korean* “Tell him we’re from Japan!”

Guest #2: “Uh, Japan. Yeah.”

Me: *in perfect Korean* “You guys better tell him the truth. He’s going to find out anyway.”

(They are in shock. But before they sputter out an excuse, the policeman says…)

Officer: *in perfect Korean* “That’s okay. We’ll get it from their passports.”

(And that was how I met my now fiancé. The guests, by the way, spent the rest of the night at HIS workplace instead of mine.)