A bunch of teens are buying concessions.

Teen #1: *Politely.* “Excuse me, miss. What’s in your popcorn?”

Before I can answer the other teens verbally pounce on him.

Teen #2: “Oh my god, how can you be so dumb!”

Teen #3: “It’s corn, you idiot!”

Me: “Well, yes, corn.”

Teen #2: “Ha! Told you!”

Me: “And sunflower oil…”

Teen #2: “Wait, what?”

Me: “…butter…”

Teen #2: “Wait, stop.”

Me: “…salt…”

Teen #2: “Stop! It’s just corn!”

Me: “…yellow artificial colors number five, which is called Tartrazine according to this list…”

The original teen, vindicated, turns back to me.

Teen #1: *Politely.* “Thank you, I’m not allergic to any of those. A large bucket, please!”

Me: “Of course! I’ll upgrade you to the refill bucket on the house for being so polite!”

Teen #2: “Can I get one too?”

I charged that little f***er full price.

Manager: “I need you to come in tomorrow; we’ve had some call-outs.”

Me: “No can do. As soon as I finish my shift tonight my parents are picking me up and we’re driving out-of-state to my uncles for July 4^th.”

Manager: “Well then I give you permission to call your parents to let them know you can’t make it.”

Me: “Uh… no, that’s not possible. I booked this off with [Boss] last Christmas. I had to work all of Christmas so he said I could take three days off over July 4^th.”

Manager: “Well [Boss] isn’t here right now, I am, and you either come in tomorrow or you don’t come in at all.”

Me: “You realize that’s not the flex you think it is, right?”

Manager: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I am eighteen years old, living at home, and leaving for college after the summer. This job, to be blunt, means nothing to me. It simply pays minimum wage for my video games. You’re making me choose between this job and a nice weekend with my family that was promised to me, you’re not going to come out of the winning end of that argument.”

Manager: “But… we don’t have anyone to cover!”

Me: “You’re paid a manager’s salary to deal with a manager’s problems, my dude! Let me know before the end of my shift if I’m coming back after the weekend or not!”

Turns out the manager wanted to take the day off and go to the beach. He had to stay and work all weekend while I enjoyed my break and was welcomed back by the boss on my return. I stayed working there until college!

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I work at a twenty-four-hour fast food place during high school that’s literally across the street from a college campus. The students take full advantage of our late hours.

One night, this group of four very drunk college guys come into the lobby and annoyingly take forever to order and eat. In all the ways you can be an annoyingly drunk, they are. I’m trying to be respectful and ignore them while I’m serving other college students (who are probably also drunk but not as obnoxious). Finally, the loudest one in the group of four spills his drink all over the floor, at least a five-foot-by-five-foot area.

I say excuse me to the person whose order I’m taking, walk to the back, and come back up front with a mop. Without saying a word, I look this kid in the eyes and hold the mop straight out to him. After a few seconds of staring at me through his drunken stupor, he must realize I am fed up; he takes it and drunkenly mops it all up himself.

At some point, we all snap a little bit.

A woman comes through the line, being demanding and quite rude to my coworker. Our manager sees this, and he speaks to the customer in front of the woman quite loudly so she can hear.

Manager: “And because you have been such a nice and courteous customer, we’re going to give you 50% off!”

The scowl that the rude customer gave them was priceless!

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A lady orders $29 worth of stuff in the middle of the lunch rush. She gets to the window looking irritated and hands her card to my coworker without a word (I’m right next to her taking orders on the headset.) She tries to run it, but it gets declined. That’s a normal thing that happens all the time, and it’s never a big deal. She gives the card back to the lady and explains the situation. This is when all h*** breaks loose.

Just as I’m finishing an order, I hear from the window:

Customer: “What are you, a f****** idiot?!”

My coworker knows the drill, and she’s having none of it. She steps away from the window and grabs our manager. Our manager comes over and tries to get it cleared up, but by this time, the customer has gotten her phone out and has her bank account pulled up.

Manager: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we can’t do anything about your card. You’ll have to call your bank.”

Customer: *Gesturing to her phone* “Don’t you see what it says here?!”

Manager: “No, ma’am, I can’t see what it—”

Customer: “You morons just charged me for this food four times!”

Manager: “I understand, but we can’t do anything about that here. You’ll have to call—”

Customer: “No, you’ll call them. You screwed up; you fix it!”

Manager: “Ma’am, we can’t do that.”

Customer: “God d*** it, you f****** idiots!”

She then drives away without the food. My manager storms back to the office and slams the door behind her.

A couple of minutes later, my manager comes out of the office holding a half-complete incident report with a slight smirk. I ask what’s up.

Manager: “I saw her phone. She was charged four times for $32.50.”

Me: “So?”

Manager: “So, her card was from the same bank I use. $32.50 is an overdraft fee.”