A friend of mine owns a restaurant, which has not been easy during the past few years, as you can imagine. When the hard lockdowns fell and restaurants and bars could open again, there were some pretty rigid rules and very stiff fines.

One such rule was a curfew at 10:00 pm, and you’d better not break it because that fine was huge. Our president was actually hit with one and, to his credit, he paid it without questioning it and made a public apology for his misconduct.

As we were approaching 10:00 and people were ushered out of the restaurant, one person tried to come in.

Customer: “You open?”

Friend: “Nope, we’re closing. Curfew, 10:00 pm, no can do, sorry.”

Customer: “I just want a coffee.”

Friend: “Sorry, curfew.”

Customer: “C’mon, make an exception. I need one.”

Friend: “Sure, that will be €3,003.50.”

Customer: “What? Are you insane?”

Friend: “€3.50 for the coffee, and €3,000 for the fine I’ll have to pay for serving it. Take it or leave it.”

The man left — it and the restaurant.

I worked at a sandwich store in the early 1990s. The store did their own deliveries. An Army base was close by, and they were the majority of deliveries. We had this one regular guy who always had the same complaint.

Caller: “I didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

The next time he ordered, we put in one-and-a-half times the usual jalapeños without charging extra.

Caller: “You guys are either stupid or cheap! I still didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

After a few more complaints and rude words, I made his next order by pouring some of the jalapeño juice and tons of seeds from the jalapeño bin onto the bread.

The following week:

Caller: “Go light on jalapeños.”

Many years ago, I was in band in high school. We were raising money for a trip to play at a festival at a famous theme park by selling chocolate bars.

I stopped by the house of a family friend, and the woman agreed to buy a few. Her young daughter, around three or four years old, happened to witness the transaction and, having found a dollar bill lying around the house somewhere, insisted on giving that to me, too. 

Nothing Mom or I could say would dissuade her from her newfound mission of handing the dollar bill to me. I didn’t want to put Mom on the hook for any more chocolate than she’d already agreed to buy.

Suddenly, inspiration struck!

I gave Mom a knowing look and accepted the money, thanking the girl. Then, I reached back into my pocket and pulled out a different dollar bill. “Here’s your change!” I told her, offering it to her. She took it happily and toddled back off into the house, presumably to wherever she’d found the money in the first place.

A lady is using the self-checkout, and after she has bagged everything and paid, she makes sure to tell the self-checkout employee, the service desk employees, and some cashiers:

Customer: *Nice and loud* “Look how I did your jobs for you!”

The employees just ignore this; they have plenty to keep them occupied. For some reason, this makes the customer mad.

Customer: *Even louder* “I did your jobs for you! Just letting you know!”

We just look at her and then continue doing our jobs. After not getting a reaction from the employees, she stands near the exit and starts shouting as loud as she can while pointing at her cart:

Customer: “I did your jobs for you!”

She is now loud enough to bother other customers, so my manager gets involved.

Manager: “Excuse me, ma’am. Are you all right?”

Customer: “Why isn’t it bothering you that you’re making your customers do your jobs for you?”

Manager: “Because you’re not, ma’am. We all have lots to do, even with the assistance of self-checkout.”

Customer: “I want you to acknowledge that I effectively did work for you for free! It’s shameful!”

Manager: “Okay, well, by my estimation, based on the time stamp on your receipt, you were at the self-checkout for eight minutes.”

My manager gets a calculator out on his phone.

Manager: “So… eight minutes at minimum wage comes to a total of… 98 cents. Here, I’m giving you a raise; take a dollar.”

He takes a dollar from his wallet and hands it out to her.

Manager: “A dollar for your hard work. That’s what other cashier operators are getting without kicking up a fuss.”

She just stared at my manager before gasping in annoyance and storming out.

I’m in line at the checkout, and the customer immediately in front of me is being 100% a jerk. There is a noticeable delay between the cashier scanning each item and the machine sounding the recognizable “beep” sound that indicates the item has been scanned. This is making the customer ahead of me angry.

Customer: “Why are you scanning so slowly? Are you slow, too? Have I got into the ‘special’ lane?”

Cashier: “The network is running slower than usual, so I can’t scan as fast as I usually would without risking missing an item.”

Customer: “So then skip an item! I’ll pay less, and you’ll learn how much it costs to keep your customers waiting!”

Cashier: “I’m afraid I can’t as management has explained—”

Customer: “Well, management is who I am going to be complaining to when I tell them that their cashier is scanning so slowly that all the customers think she’s a f****** r****d!”

That’s it; he’s gone too far. I employ my de-escalation tactic, which usually works, by speaking up to the cashier.

Me: “Wow, I would like to interject to say that I’m amazed at how professionally you’re handling this impolite conversation and crazy situation. I would like you to know that I intend to speak to your management to give you a good review and ask if they can give you a bonus.”

The customer stared at me, and I stared back, trying my best not to blink. He just sighed angrily and finished his transaction without any more verbal abuse.

Sometimes NOT matching their energy and acting like their temper tantrum is like water off a duck’s back — while clearly taking the employee’s side — really deflates the enthusiasm of the badly behaved customer!

Related:
Kill Them With Kindness