(I work in a university cafe, so we often get large takeaway orders for an office of people. One woman comes straight to the counter in a hurry while I’m just drying my hands at the sink.)

Customer: “I need one mocha trim, long black, decaf soy latte…”

(She lists about 10 or 12 coffees, ordered at triple speed. I run over to the counter at about the fourth coffee and start frantically trying to log into the till and input the coffees.)

Me: “I’m sorry, can you please slow down a little and repeat those orders?”

Customer: “I just told you what I wanted; I can’t remember them all!”

Me: “Okay… I picked up on a long black, two mochas, three lattes… What sizes and what milk were for these?”

Customer: “Well, how should I know? They’re not all for me!”

Me: “Um… Well, do you have the orders written down? We wouldn’t want anyone to miss out.”

Customer: “God! Of course I don’t! And I’m not going all the way back to the office to get the orders again! Can you just make what I already told you?!”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t catch everything you ordered. If you could please get the order again, written down, I can give you a free coffee card for your trouble.”

(The woman rolled her eyes in a huff and snatched the free coffee card from my hand as she went to walk up one flight of stairs to the office to retake everyone’s orders. Unfortunately, this is a recurring issue and nobody ever seems to learn from the first time.)

(My husband and I are similar in appearance, and regularly visit a 24-hour cafe with friends. On a trip where it’s only the two of us, a waitress we know fairly well approaches us.)

Waitress: “Okay, I need to know. You’re always in together but always pay separately. Are you married, or brother and sister?”

Husband: “Married.”

(She promptly does a 180 and starts yelling at another employee.)

Waitress: “I TOLD YOU SO! I KNEW IT! I WIN!”

(Apparently there had been a bet going on. We both cracked up over it and I gave her a larger tip than usual.)

(I work at an extremely high-volume coffee shop where the line is almost always out the door. We have one regular customer who is extremely rude to both the cashiers and the baristas. We pretty much bend over backwards for her every time she comes in to avoid getting screamed at. For our regular customers we offer “loyalty cards,” and you get a stamp for each drink you purchase.)

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

Customer: “Green tea.”

Me: “Okay, you like the tea hot, and in a mug, right?”

Customer: *doesn’t answer me, stares at her phone*

Me: “Okay, that will be $3.21”

Customer: *hands me her loyalty card and cash*

(I proceeded to stamp her loyalty card and give her back her change. She looks down at her loyalty card with a disgusted look on her face. It is obvious something is wrong, but she doesn’t say anything.)

Me: “I’m sorry, is anything wrong, ma’am?”

Customer: “I know that I had more stamps than this on my card. You gave me back the wrong one.”

Me: *very confused* “Okay, let me check the counter to make sure I didn’t accidentally swap cards.”

(I check.)

Me: “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other loyalty cards on the counter, and I always just stamp the card and give it right back. If you’d like, I can give you an extra stamp or two, since you come in so often?”

(She doesn’t respond and proceeds to stare at me. This goes on for about five very long seconds, until…)

Customer: “MY GREEN TEA!”

(I got her her tea, and later she hunted down my manager and let him know just how terrible my customer service was, and that she was swindled out of a loyalty card. As she was leaving, she stormed up to the register, demanded to know my name, and then wrote a very nasty review where she mentioned me by name. She still comes in a few times a week. I usually duck to the back and let someone else take her order.)

(Most of us in our small office just use our coffee maker, but it’s broken and will take a couple of days to replace, so we’re taking turns buying coffee on the way in for the group. Today is my turn, and this happens while I’m in line at a donuts-and-coffee chain.)

Customer: “Tall double-double.”

Cashier: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Tall double-double!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, but I don’t unders—”

Customer: *loudly, but not quite shouting* “TALL. DOUBLE. DOUBLE.”

Cashier: “Sir, that doesn’t sound like anything we serve.”

(At this point I’m about to step in, having figured out what he means, when the guy slaps himself on the forehead.)

Customer: “Large, double sugar, double cream.”

Cashier: “Oh! I’m sorry; I should have figured that out!”

Customer: “Yeah, sorry, I’m just so used to stopping by [Other Chain] every morning, but the local one’s closed for renovations. Guess I’m a creature of habit.”

(He gets his coffee and leaves without any more fuss, and I step up and place my order.)

Me: “I wonder how long it will take him to realize there’s another [Chain] a block away?”

Cashier: “Shh! With any luck he’ll realize our coffee’s better and cheaper!”

(To be fair, it WAS cheaper, though “better” is highly subjective, depending on how strong you like it!)

(I cut off contact with my abusive mother years ago, and most of my family totally understand why, with the exception of my grandmother and sister. My sister recently had a child.)

Sister: “I just think, what if [Daughter] grows up and stops talking to me?!”

Me: “It’s… really easy to avoid. Just don’t abuse her!”