I worked at a sports venue for one year, and I swear some grown sports event adults are needy like toddlers. I handed a customer her order:

Me: “Okay, can I help—”

She interrupts me, not moving.

Customer: “—Where do I get napkins?”

Me: “Right in front of you, less than a foot to your right.”

Customer: *Scoffs.* “Okay, well, what about straws?!”

Me: “Right next to the napkins to your right.”

She scoffs again and moves two feet to the opposite side of my till for condiments, cutting in front of others in line to use them. I couldn’t take new orders while being constantly interrupted by her, and she’s still going.

Customer: *Looking around.* “Where’s the ketchup?”

I point at the big pump condiment in front of her, labeled KETCHUP in bold letters on the label.

Me: “That ketchup?”

She glares at me and continues to search for something else.

Customer: “What about forks?”

I’m starting to die a little inside.

Me: “Inside that container, front of the ketchup, ma’am.”

She looks down and grabs the container and shakes it at my face:

Customer: “So YOU’RE telling ME that there’s forks inside this container?!”

Me: “YUUUUP!”

She looks inside the cup she is holding to, in fact, realize it’s all forks.

Customer #2: “LADY! Are you stupid!? Grab your crap so the rest of us can order! You’re not the only one who deserves attention and service, and the rest of us outnumber you.”

Customer #3: “I swear we are being rage baited, because there’s no way you’re normally this dumb.”

The woman looks around as if completely shocked by the existence of a huge backlog of other customers who just magically appeared around her. She scoffs again, grabs a fork, and storms off with her food.

I just burst out laughing in disbelief. Some others laugh. Many of them glare after her until they’re sure she’s not coming back with another demand. On the plus side, I cleared out that whole rush without having to tell anyone else where all the condiments and utensils were.

I work at a pizza place that’s part of a food court in a mall.

Customer: “Hi, I want one pepperoni pizza, please!”

Me: “Okay, that will be $16.”

The customer pays, and doesn’t say anything. I give them their change, give them a pager, and tell them:

Me: “Okay, it will be a few minutes.”

Customer: “Okay.”

They stand in front of me, just staring at me.

Me: “If you would like, you can take a seat over there, and I’ll page you when your pizza is ready.”

Customer: “I’m just waiting for a slice.”

Me: “Oh! You want a slice!? I thought you wanted a whole pizza!”

Customer: “Yeah, just a slice.”

Me: “You said you wanted one pizza. Why would you think a slice of pizza costs $16!?”

Customer: “Eh… I’m from New York.”

I work at a little sushi shop inside a large superstore/mall, and my main job was to take my trolley full of sushis and wander around the mall, asking people if they wanted to taste some, and basically advertising the (very new) shop.

Customer #1: “I don’t eat foreign food!”

Me: *Eyeing up the couscous in his cart.*

Customer #2: “Why are you selling that? You’re not Chinese!”

Customer #3: *Takes one, starts chewing.* “What is sushi?”

I explain, including telling her that it’s made of fresh raw fish.

Customer #3: *Still chewing.* “Oh my god! I don’t like fish!” *Takes another one.*

I work in a cookie place at our mall’s food court.

Customer: “I need a cookie cake in fifteen minutes.”

Me: “Sure! Which design?”

She chooses the most complicated design in the book. That means only my fellow shift leader can get it done in time. Fine. I start covering everything else so they can focus. 

Ten minutes later, she comes back before it’s even in the box. The newbie hands it to her and she immediately asks:

Customer: “I want a frosting cup.”

Newbie: “Um…” *Turns to me.*

Me: “A… cup? Sorry, we can’t just give you a cup of frosting.”

Customer: “Yes, you can. It’s fifty cents and it’s just a scoop of frosting.”

Me: “We don’t…” *Light bulb.* “Oh, are you talking about icing shots? Sorry, ma’am. We can’t do that here. We don’t have the cups for them, and the owners don’t let us sell off-menu items.”

Customer: “Are you serious?”

Me: “I can add extra icing to your cake or sell you a frosted cookie if you like.”

Customer: “So you’re willing to throw away this wholesale for a scoop of frosting?!”

Me: “No. But it seems like you are.”

Customer: “So what? You’ll just throw out this whole cake and waste it?! Because I’m not leaving here without my icing cup!”

Me: “No, if you choose not to buy your cake, I’ll cut it up and sell it by the slice. We’ll make even more money that way.”

She erupts and demands a manager. My fellow shift leader steps in, and I get back to the swelling line. She refuses to step aside, so we’re now down to one register.

Nothing works. Finally, we call the owners.

While my shift leader is on the phone, the customer reaches over the counter, snatches the phone, and starts screaming at our elderly owners. These people are over sixty-five, staunch Southern Baptists, and absolute sweethearts.

After twenty more minutes, she slams the phone down and storms out.

Our bosses call back, apologize to us for dealing with her, and tell us:

Owners: “Cut up the cake and give slices to anyone who wants one. And she’s banned from both stores.”

We laugh it off. The newbie looks traumatized. Ten minutes later: The phone rings. It’s her. She went to the second location and now she’s gloating.

Customer: “They gave me the icing shot! So you were just lying because you were lazy!”

My fellow shift leader snatches the phone:

Shift Leader: “What’s the name of the employee who served you?”

Customer: “I—I don’t need to tell you that. You ruined my son’s birthday! I’m never coming back! I’ll be leaving bad reviews, and I might sue!”

Shift Leader: “Bye.” *Click.*

We immediately call the second location.

Us: “Hey, did someone just give a customer an icing shot?”

Them: “Nope. She threw a fit, and our shift leader said no.”

So… she lied. Again.

And the final twist? Our cashier quietly says:

Cashier: “You know… that was my bus driver.”

At the end of the night, we looked up her Facebook profile to see if she’d left a scathing review. Her profile picture?

“In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”

I was in the food court of my town’s shopping mall to get a quick bite before seeing a movie. I chose a familiar chain, so I could order my go-to meal and eat it fast before my movie started. When my turn came, I placed my order and paid with cash. The cashier rang me up and handed me my change.

As I always do when paying cash, I made sure to count out my change. This time, my change was short by exactly five dollars.

I looked at the cashier, and said:

Me: “Excuse me, but…”

Before I could finish my sentence, the cashier reached under the counter and produced a five-dollar bill, slapping it on the counter.

Now, I’m sure you can see what was obviously going on here. I felt this was one of the times when I would have felt justified in speaking with the manager. But by that time, my food was already brought out to me, and I had that movie to catch.

I hope Karma eventually caught up with that light-fingered cashier.