(Eggs Benedict is a popular dish on the menu for breakfast/brunch.)

Regular Customer: *recently returned from a holiday in Spain* “Hmm, what will I have? I think I will have that Eggs Benidorm.”

This story is part of our Spain-themed roundup!

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(I work at a popular coffee shop but at the moment I’m sitting outside on my break. A customer I had served earlier approaches me. For the record, I am white and this customer is not.)

Customer: “Hey, what’s your name?”

Me: *gives name*

Customer: “That’s a black girl’s name!”

Me: *blank stare*

Customer: “I bet your daddy was having an affair with a black woman!”

Me: *speechless, as well as everyone else around me*

(He left shortly after. For the record, my father first heard the name as the name of a black coworker he’d had at the time but I’m fairly certain he wasn’t having an affair with her. I almost never run into people with the same name as me but when I do, they’ve always been white.)

(I’ve often heard about this happening, but this is the first time it has ever happened to me. I’m working as a cashier in a coffee shop.)

Woman: “…and a white chocolate cookie, please. Oh, and I get a discount, too, as I’m part of the family.”

Me: “Part of the family, miss?”

Woman: “I’m the owner’s wife.”

Me: *already knowing she’s lying* “I see. I’m afraid I can’t honour that discount.”

Woman: “Excuse me?”

Me: “That’s £5.98, please.”

Woman: *pulling out her phone* “Now, listen here, you little b****. You have no idea what s***-storm you’re about to unleash. I’m calling my husband right now, so you had better give me that d*** discount. Actually for free, before my husband kicks your a*** out on the street!”

(She’s dialing a random number that I can’t see while I press the alert button under the counter. The store owner comes out.)

Woman: “Hello, dear? Yes, I’m at [Coffee Shop], and one of your… staff… Oh, hold on, someone else is here.”

Owner: “You talk to our daughter like that again, and you’ll have more than a divorce to worry about. Now get out!”

(It takes a woman a couple of seconds to realise the situation before she bolts, leaving her handbag on the counter.)

Me: “Thanks, Dad. How did you know what she was doing?”

Dad: “I came out from the back just when she claimed to be your mother and decided to hang back to see what happened.” *taking the handbag* “Let’s see if she has the gall to come back for this.”

(The woman did, two weeks later, but we sent it to the police after only a couple of days. It had no identification in it, and as it was new and she didn’t have the receipt, the woman couldn’t claim it was hers. She didn’t get it back.)

(My husband and I go to a local downtown festival with another couple we’re friends with. The festival is dog-friendly, so our friends bring their golden retriever and we bring our Rottweiler. Everyone has a good time, and most of the people are polite and actually ask us if they can pet our dogs as we’re walking around. Later on, we’re having dinner on a cafe patio that is also dog-friendly. Both dogs are pretty tired at this point, and after a drink of water and a couple treats they’re both happily laying down under our table while the four of us eat. People continue to walk by, occasionally commenting on the dogs but leaving them alone. All of a sudden, I hear a high-pitched squeal from directly behind me.)

Strange Woman: “Oh, my God! Look at them! “

(A woman who appears to be around 30 years old LUNGES around my chair from behind and tries to reach under the table where the dogs are.)

Strange Woman: “They are so cute! SO cute! I want to pet them!”

(We are all so shocked that it takes a few seconds for one of us to speak up. I will also point out that she does not seem intoxicated or anything, just ridiculously excited and invasive.)

My Husband: “Ma’am, please back up. We’re eating dinner and the dogs are resting, as you can see. They’ve had a long day.”

Strange Woman: “Aww!” *sticks her lip out in an exaggerated pout, like a toddler* “Please?”

Friend’s Husband: *sigh* “Look. You can pet ours for a minute, but then we’d like to finish eating.”

(He calls their retriever out from under the table and she sits while the woman pets her. I’m trying to shield our Rottie with my legs. He’s a friendly dog, but he also has no problem letting people know when he’s had enough attention and I don’t even want to deal with it. But, of course, as soon as she finishes petting the retriever, she turns her sights on our dog.)

Strange Woman: “And now I want to pet you!”

Me: *keeping my legs in front of him* “No, thank you. He. Is. Tired. He doesn’t want attention right now.”

Strange Woman: “Oh, of course, he does!”

(She reaches her hands out, and as soon she gets near my legs our Rottie raises his head and, without growling, shows her his teeth.)

My Husband: “Okay, that’s it. Please leave us alone now.”

Strange Woman: *clapping her hands like she thinks she’s going to coax him out from under the table* “He’s not mad! That’s a submissive grin!”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

My Husband: *stands up* “Back off, now!”

Strange Woman: “Well, fine, then! But I’m telling you, it’s a submissive grin!”

(She huffs and walks away. Only then do we realize that a guy who’s been standing five feet away on the sidewalk is with her and has just stood there watching her the whole time! She grabs his arm and continues ranting about “submissive grins” until we can’t hear her anymore. I’m able to calm our Rottie down and we start eating again.)

Friend: “A submissive grin? Where the f*** did she get that?”

This story is part of our Golden Retriever roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

23 Hilarious Stories About Taking Your Dog To The Vet!

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(I’m the idiot customer in this one. I’m ordering my drink after much deliberation, having already held up the queue for a good minute longer than I needed to purely because I am exhausted and flustered.)

Me: “Umm… Okay, I think I’ll have a salted caramel hot chocolate, please.”

Barista: “Sure thing.”

(He gives me a friendly smile; he has been patient throughout.)

Me: *relaxing enough to suddenly realize I missed something important* “Oh! Make sure it’s decaf, please. I’ve not been sleeping well, and the last thing I need is to make it worse.”

Barista: *doesn’t have the heart to point out that there’s no caffeine in a hot chocolate* “Sure thing, hon.”

Me: *super relieved, and relaxes enough to work out my own error* “Sorry…”

Barista: “Don’t worry about it; we all have those days.” *gives me another awesome smile and a free chocolate flake*

(Thank God for the kindness of strangers.)