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

I work at a large and well-appointed luxury hotel. We get a lot of weddings, and a lot of those are next-level extravagant, but that means the extra extravagant open bar is a bit much for some of the guests.

A drunk couple is passing through the lobby, from the ballroom where the wedding is taking place toward the elevators to the rooms. They are stumbling comically left and right, but the wife definitely seems a bit worse for wear than her husband.

I wave at them as they go around the corner toward the elevator and continue with my night audit duties. I look up a few minutes later to see the husband standing in front of me.

Husband: *Slurring* “Can I get a luggage cart?”

Me: “Of course! Would you like me to have that sent up to your room?”

Husband: “Nah, I’ll take that with me now.”

He’s still a bit unsteady on his feet, so I offer to get someone to push the luggage cart to his room for him.

Husband: “Actually, maybe just come and see for yourself.”

Since the lobby was empty, I followed him around the corner to the elevators. I was not prepared for what I saw.

His wife was passed out drunk halfway in and halfway out of the elevator on the lobby floor. The doors were legit opening and closing on this woman, and she was not budging… or even aware.

Since they were both on the heavier side, I was unable to move her right there, so I rushed back to fetch the luggage cart, and between us both, we got her onto it before either she or the elevator broke.

I called our strongest busboy to meet the husband and wife on their floor to assist in “escorting” the wife from the luggage cart onto the bed, and I had an interesting story to tell the morning manager!

I have a large table to serve at the end of the night. They’re a little needy, but mostly okay… except for one guy. He’s the guy who’s so sure he’s the funniest in any room and so keeps being obnoxious. He is making jokes at my expense; they’re not hurtful or rude per se, but obviously, he doesn’t care how I feel about it and knows, as a server, I can’t really say anything.

Near the end of the meal, everything has been going well, but he’s kept up his schtick. They’re talking among their group, and “Funny Guy” says while pointing at me:

Customer: “Oh, I bet the jester hates us! Am I right?!”

Me: “No, sir. I love all my tables — some when they sit down and others when they leave, but I love them all.” 

Everyone at the table laughed. Then, a few seconds in, as they realized that I might be talking about them, it turned to nervous laughter. 

The schtick ended after that.