We follow an older couple into a café. They breeze by the hand sanitizer without using it and stand way too close to the person in front of them in the queue. They pick up every single (identical) packed sandwich, and eventually, they pay and sit at the biggest table for just the two of them.

The man starts picking his nose and the woman coughs a smoker’s cough, not even covering her mouth.

Woman: “Did you see? They only had half the menu! When is all this [health crisis, mispronounced] stuff going to go away?”

Not for some time, it seems!

My husband, two-year-old daughter, and I are at a popular furniture store. Before we go up the escalator to enter the main part of the store, I take my daughter to use the restroom. The restrooms happen to be near where the drop-off childcare area is, which is closed due to the health crisis. The elevators are located there, as well, including where the carts are.

An employee watches us walking toward that area and steps in front of me, blocking me from the restrooms.

Employee: “The child’s area is closed.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I’m actually just taking my daughter to the restroom.”

I try to walk around them and they step in front of me again.

Employee: “Ma’am, I told you, the child’s area is closed! You can’t take your daughter there.”

Me: “I’m just trying to take my daughter to the restroom before we join my husband upstairs.”

They huff at me but stand aside to let us through. My husband has already gone upstairs via the elevators with a cart. When my daughter and I finish, my daughter wants to go up the escalator, which involves walking past the employee again. They block us again.

Employee: “The carts are over there and you can take the elevator.”

Me: “My husband is already upstairs with a cart. We’d like to take the escalator.”

Employee: “But the carts are over there! You have to get a cart.”

Me: “My husband already grabbed a cart and is waiting for us upstairs. Please stop blocking us.”

Employee: “FINE! Do whatever you want, then. Don’t blame me because you don’t listen.”

Me: “Pretty sure I’m not the one that’s not listening.”

I work in a small chain family restaurant that serves a lot of home-style cooked food. Lately, there’s only a hostess on weekend morning shifts — my manager desperately needs to hire multiple front-end staff but just “hasn’t gotten around to it” — so it gets pretty hectic having to serve and hostess when it gets busy at night. I usually end up serving my section and hostessing for both me and the other waitress.

Tonight, Friday, the busiest night of the week, my boss had just me and the youngest server —she’s seventeen and she’s actually really amazing at her job — manning the restaurant. We work great together, but both of us being and looking very young makes rude and entitled people not want to listen to us. As soon as I started my shift at 3:00 pm, I covered the whole floor — twelve tables at full capacity — for an hour until the other server arrived, and then we split the floor. The first hour was quite busy, but it just got busier and busier after she arrived until we had to start up a waitlist.

I noticed a new customer at the front as I was bringing out a table’s food. As soon as I walked up to him and was in the middle of saying hello, he looked straight ahead at the one dirty table in the joint.

Customer: “I’ll take that booth; go clean it.”

Me: “I’m sorry but we are full and actually have a waiting list going. There’s one person ahead of you and it should be around ten or fifteen minutes for a table.”

Customer: “Just give me that table. I’m in a hurry; I have places to be.”

Me: “That table is actually for that lady behind you and it’s our only available one, but I can add you to the list and the next available table will be yours.”

Customer: *Points to closed tables* “What about those empty tables? Don’t want to sit me there or what?”

Me: “Those are actually closed for social distancing.”

Customer: “Aren’t there tables around the corner in the back there?”

Me: “They’re all full, as well; everything is occupied. Would you like to be added to the list or not?”

I’m getting impatient as I have about a dozen other tasks that would be much more useful than this conversation.

Customer: “Show me the list.”

Me: “There’s one person ahead of you.”

Customer: “Show me the list.”

Me: “There is only one person ahead of you.”

Customer: *Getting increasingly angrier* “Show me the list!”

Me: “That lady is the only person ahead of you; the next table will be yours.”

Customer: “GIVE ME THE LIST! I WANT TO SEE HOW LONG THE WAIT IS MYSELF!”

The guy literally tries to SNATCH the paper right out of my hands. I’m kind of shocked.

Me: “I am not going to show you the list. It has people’s private numbers on it.”

Customer: “What’s your name?”

I tell him.

Customer: “Well, I’m [Customer] and you’re in trouble. I don’t mean to be short, but people’s time is important, and you are wasting it.” *Turns to walk out*

Me: “I know it is, and so are you.”

I doubt he heard the last part but really hope he did!

I work drive-thru at a fast food restaurant, and we’ve been drive-thru only since the start of lockdown. We’re slammed as usual, and the phone starts ringing. My manager is busy getting orders out, so as a senior employee, I answer it.

Caller: “Hi, this is [Third-Party Delivery App]. I’m in the parking lot; can you just bring the order out so I don’t have to wait in line?”

Me: “[Delivery App] waits in line like everybody else. Have a nice day.”

I immediately hung up on him, shaking my head. Does the guy really think that any of us have time to run an order out to him?

Related:
Not Even In Line And Out Of Line, Part 2
Not Even In Line And Out Of Line

I am female. I normally have my hair in a short style — pixie cut or shorter. Part of the reason why is that my hair type quickly results in it being a knotted mess with the slightest breeze, and living coastal means we get a lot of breeze. With the current circumstances, I’ve not been able to go to the hairdressers, so my hair is now just above shoulder-length. For me, this is long.

We’re leaving the lockdown and hairdressers are threatening to open, so I’m talking excitedly to [Coworker #1], a woman in her late forties who has hair down to her lower back, about getting my hair cut when I can. [Coworker #2], a man in his late fifties, cuts in.

Coworker #2: “You should grow your hair out.”

Me: *Turning to him* “Oh, sorry?”

Coworker #2: “You’ll look much prettier with longer hair; you should grow it out.”

Me: “But I want short hair.”

Coworker #2: “But boys won’t like you if you have short hair. Girls should have long hair.”

Coworker #1: “She’s not a girl. She’s a woman.”

Coworker #2: “She’ll still turn off boys with short hair.”

Me: “Good. I don’t want to date boys, anyway. That would be gross. I want to date adults.”

Coworker #2: “I don’t mean little boys! I mean boys your age.”

Coworker #1: “They’re called men.”

Coworker #2: “They’re younger than us.”

Coworker #1: “They’re still called men.”

Coworker #2: “It’s the same thing. Anyway, don’t you think she should have long hair?”

Coworker #1: “I don’t think it matters what I think, as she didn’t actually ask for opinions on what haircut she should get. She knows what she’s getting, and at thirty, she knows she likes it.”

Coworker #2: *Huffs* “You’re gonna look like a boy if you do that.”

I roll my eyes.

Me: “I’m not continuing this with you. You have absolutely no say in my life and I’ve known you for a month.”

Coworker #2: *Yelling across the room* “Hey, [Co-Worker #3]”

[Coworker #3], a woman in her early twenties, has literally just entered the building. She always wears a cap.

Coworker #3: “What do you want?”

Coworker #2: *Gesturing to me* “Don’t you think she’d look better with long hair?” 

Coworker #3: *To me* “Do you want long hair?”

Me: “Nope. Gonna get a pixie.”

Coworker #3: “Sweet!”

Coworker #2: “She’s gonna look like a boy with that”

[Coworker #3] takes off her cap to reveal her freshly shaved head.

Coworker #3: “Guess my name is Kev now, hey!”