(I work in the pro shop at a local golf course. Recently, there have been some large crows hanging around the parking area that will snatch candy, crackers, or chips right out of a golf cart if they have the opportunity.)

Customer: *storms into the pro shop* “That crow stole my candy bar out of the golf cart! I want another candy bar!”

Me: “No problem. That will be $1.00.”

Customer: “What? No! I want you to give me another candy bar free, because that crow took it out of your golf cart!”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but it’s not our responsibility what nature does to your food.”

Customer: *now almost screaming* “That’s wrong. It was a crow on your property!”

Me: “Sir, we have no control over what a bird does outside of our building.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***. I’m just going to take another candy bar!” *picks up one and starts walking toward the door*

Me: “Sir, you must pay for that candy bar; if you walk out without paying, I will have to call the police.”

Customer: “No, you won’t.”

Me: “Yes, I will. I have your name, and you gave us your phone number when you made your tee time. The police will find you and arrest you for petty theft.”

Customer: *returns the candy bar to the rack and leaves*

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(My boyfriend has taken up golfing and is always wanting me to go with him and his friend. I don’t really like golfing. I agree one day and go along with another of his friends who has never golfed before. It is a hot summer day.)

Boyfriend: “We’ll go in pairs. [My Name], you go with [Non-Golfer], because the two of you will just hold us back.”

(Halfway through the third hole, the non-golfing friend has had enough and decides to head to the clubhouse. I play through until I catch up to the other two. They are teeing off at a fairway that starts at the base of a hill. Each time they try, the ball just keeps going sideways into the rough. I tee up my ball as they are both searching in bushes.)

Boyfriend: “Ha, [Friend], just stop and watch this. We need something to laugh at.”

Friend: *as I start lining up my swing* “I can see what you meant when you said she can’t play golf… HEY, [My Name]! You are standing on the wrong side of the ball.”

Boyfriend: “No, she’s got that right; she’s left-handed.”

(I am feeling very self-conscious as I take my swing, expecting the ball to join them in the rough, but instead, it sails straight up the hill and over the top. I look up and see both of them with their jaws dropped.)

Friend: “What the f*** was that?”

(They both try a few more times before deciding that the heat is affecting them and calling it quits.)

Me: “But I want to finish this hole.”

Boyfriend: “Nope, it’s too hot; we are leaving.”

(And that was the last time he ever took me golfing.)

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(I work as a barmaid at a private golf course. Most of our clientele are elderly gentlemen with absolutely impeccable manners and it’s a lovely place, but there are some younger members of the club who are in this particular day. It’s one of our semi-annual ‘bring your family along’ events and we have a lot of people’s grandchildren and such around but it’s all well-run and behaved. Until…)

Woman: *twenty-something* “Give me a champagne.”

Me: “Certainly, which one would you prefer? We have Moet and Chandon, Bollinger—”

Woman: “—just anything. Whatever.”

(I pour out a glass of our usual standard and place it on the bar in front of her.)

Me: “Here you are, ma’am. Will there be anything else?”

Woman: “Took your f****** time didn’t you?”

Me: “I am not certain what you mean. You asked for this drink and I poured it for you. Is there a way we could have done this faster?”

Woman: “You’re not here to question me. My husband makes more in a month that you’ll see in your lifetime.”

Me: “Will there be anything else?”

Woman: “No.”

(She starts to walk off but turns around, puts the glass on the bar, leans over, and smacks me across the face.)

Woman: “Learn. Your. Place.”

(I kept working, but, even though my manager saw all this happening, she did nothing. I was later told that the woman in question was ‘expecting a baby’ and therefore we should ‘expect a bit of irrational behavior.’ We’ve not seen her again, though.)

(I am working as a ranger on a busy Sunday. All of the tee times are taken for the entire day. Even though the course is full, the pace of play is still at four hours because the course uses ten-minute tee times. As I come up to the eleventh tee, a customer is practice swinging his driver while waiting for the group in front of him move to the green. The customer walks over to me.)

Customer: “I want to play through the group ahead of us.”

Me: *politely* “I am sorry, sir, but that is not an option. The course is full and there is no group that is out of position.”

Customer: “I know the owner of the course and he would let my group play through.”

Me: “I know the owner quite well myself, and your group will not be able to play through.”

(He turns his back to me and starts swearing every swear word known to man. His swearing does not bother me because he’s not directing his comments to me. His three other playing partners never say a word to me and look content drinking a cold beverage while waiting their turn. All of a sudden, he quickly turns around and starts walking towards me in a fast pace with his driver in his hand. He has a crazy look in his eyes as he approaches and I prepare myself for an angry confrontation.)

Customer: *screaming* “I have a date today and if I am late for my date, I am going to have my girlfriend call you to yell at you!”

Me: *without hesitation* “Is your girlfriend hot? If she is, I will give you my number. Have her call me.”

(The three men on the carts busted up laughing. The man with the golf club never said another word for the rest of the day.)

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(My boyfriend takes up golf and keeps asking me to go with him and his friends. I agree one day. There are four of us: husband teams up with Friend #2, his normal golfing mate, while I am teamed with a never-played-before friend. They go ahead of us so we won’t ‘hold them back.’)

Friend #1: *by the end of the second hole* “I’ve had enough of this; I’ll be at the clubhouse.” *takes his clubs and leaves*

(I play through the next couple of holes and catch up to my boyfriend and Friend #2. They are at the bottom of a hill.)

Me: “[Friend #1] is in the clubhouse.”

Friend #2: “We are having trouble getting up this hill. We keep hitting the ball into the bushes.”

(My boyfriend is in the bushes looking for his ball. I tee up my ball.)

Boyfriend: “This has to be worth a laugh. If we can’t get the ball up there, there’s no way you can.”

(I swung and the ball flew straight up the middle of the hill, landing near the green. Both were opened mouthed. Almost right away they decided it was too hot to play so we all headed to the clubhouse. It was the last time I was ever invited golfing.)