(I work at a fast food restaurant that closes at 9:30 pm. A customer comes in just before then, as I am helping close up for the day.)

Customer: “Hi. I ordered an eight-piece fried chicken during my lunch break, and got baked instead.”

Me: “All right, sir. I’m terribly sorry. Do you want a refund or a correct order?”

Customer: “I’d like what I ordered, please. The eight-piece fried chicken meal.”

Me: “Sure, sir. We’re about to close, so at this point at night, we aren’t making the fried chicken anymore.”

Customer: “What? But you’re a fried chicken place!”

Me: “Yes, we are, but we’re also closing for the night.”

Customer: “Okay, so, can I get an order that’s the same amount of money?”

Me: “No problem. I just need the receipt and I can get you that, sir.”

Customer: “The receipt? Oh, I think I threw that away.”

(I look at him apologetically. I cannot correct an order or give a refund without the receipt.)

Me: “What? Sir, I cannot give you your meal without the receipt.”

Customer: “What? It’s just a piece of paper, I had the wrong order earlier and now I want what I paid for!”

Me: “Sir, we fill out hundreds of orders around lunch time and I would not be able to find your order among them.”

Customer: “I WANT MY FRIED CHICKEN!”

Me: “Sir, please lower your voice. We don’t have the fried chicken, and without your receipt I can’t give you a refund.”

Customer: “[Other Fast Food Chain] doesn’t need receipts to give me my food!”

Me: “Sir, I am fairly sure they do. Look, it’s closing time but I can try to look through our computer system to find your order.”

(He suddenly backs down a bit, from menacing to nervous.)

Customer: “No, no, that’s okay. I’ll just go get dinner somewhere else.”

(He leaves quickly. My manager walks over to see what it was about, and after I tell him, he shakes his head.)

Manager: “I’m willing to bet there was no receipt, and he was just after a free meal!”

(I’m an American living and teaching in Japan. I’m currently in line at a fast-food place in the local shopping center behind a middle-aged somewhat stern-looking woman. I’m listening to a YouTube playlist on my cell phone and suddenly the next song is very loud.)

Cell Phone: “Yappappaa! Yappappaa! Ishanten…”

(It’s the first season opening theme song to a very popular anime based on a classic comedy-action manga from the 80s.)

Middle-Aged Woman: *turns slowly to look at me, raises an eyebrow, gives me a nod, and turns back to face forward*

Me: *to myself* “Did I just get a nod of approval?”

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(We have a small electrical fire at our fast food restaurant. My fellow coworkers and I have just checked the building to make sure all the customers are out. Most of my coworkers have inhaled smoke and are being checked out by EMTs. I’m standing near the doors to keep customers out.)

Customer: “I ordered $40 worth of food. Why are you standing outside?”

Me: “I’m sorry, Ma’am, we’ve had a small electrical fire…”

(The building is clearly filled with smoke, visible through the windows that surround the restaurant.)

Customer: “Well, is my chicken ready? Someone can just go get it. I’ve already paid.”

Me: “You want someone to go into a burning building in order to get your chicken?”

Customer: “Yes!”

(Before I could respond my supervisor comes back from being checked out.)

Supervisor: “Ma’am, even if someone did get your chicken, it wouldn’t be safe to eat. It was in the warming tray right below where the smoke came pouring out of the roof.”

Customer: “THIS IS F****** RIDICULOUS! I’M A PAYING CUSTOMER AND I WANT MY CHICKEN!”

(I walk away and leave my supervisor to deal with the customer. Shortly after I see the supervisor run back in the building and come out with the customers refund. The customer rips the money out of her hand and storms off, nearly hitting an employee in the parking lot with her car.)

Supervisor: “I just refunded her $60 and told her she could have fresh chicken in the morning.”

Me: “Just so you know, she ripped you off. Her order only came to $42.50.”

Supervisor: “S***.”

(Thankfully, the damage was mostly in the electrical work and the restaurant was opened the next morning.)

(I’m working at a small fast food restaurant where we also have some assorted snacks, magazines, and newspapers. An elderly customer walks in.)

Customer: “Oh, this TV-guide is old!”

Me: “It is? Can I take a look? No, it’s the current one, till the fourth of December.”

Customer: “But it came yesterday!”

Me: “Yes, it did.”

Customer: “I don’t want to pay for the day I missed! Remove that day from the price!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

Customer: *angrily* “But it’s old! I shouldn’t pay for a day I can’t use!”

Me: “I don’t control what day you buy your TV-guide on…”

(She eventually bought the TV-guide and left in a snit, slamming the door behind her.)

(I’m a female-to-male transgender person who is not on hormones yet; despite this, I don’t have much of a problem with pronoun mistakes. The customer I have is a middle-aged woman and her young son is about six or seven.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How are you today?”

Woman: “I’m good.” *to her son* “Tell the lady what you want!”

Son: “Momma, that’s a man.”

Woman: “Shhh! Don’t say that! You’ll make her feel bad.”

Me: “Actually, he’s right. I am a boy.”

Woman: *ignoring me* “I can see why you’re confused, though.” *to me* “You need to start wearing makeup or something. My son is getting confused!”

Me: “Ma’am, your son is correct.”

Woman: *still ignoring what I’m saying* “And would it kill you to grow your hair out? Everyone’s going to think that you’re a lesbian!”

Me: *getting fed up* “Ma’am. I. Am. A. Man.”

Woman: “Why didn’t you say so?”

Son: “He did. You didn’t listen, Mommy.”

Me: “Look, it’s not really a big deal. It happens all the time—”

Woman: “Then grow some facial hair or something! I can’t tell what you are!”

Me: “Um…”

Son: “Mommy, stop being stupid!”

(The son said his order and they checked out. The woman was completely silent after the son’s comment and she booked it out of the store.)

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