(I work as a monitor and head cashier at a grocery store in a state with strict alcohol laws. For this reason, the store I work in can only sell beer through a café license, which means beer can only be purchased at the café register. At the time of night this story takes place I am the only associate left in the front. I am watching the self scans when I hear the beer cashier call over the intercom:)

Cashier: “Override needed in the beer café.”

(I walk over to the café and see a notoriously difficult customer known for taking advantage of our store’s lenient return policy by “returning” stolen razors, until our policy was revised to crack down on people like her.)

Customer #1: *to boyfriend* “You know I make more than enough a week to buy this damn six-pack!”

(As she rants to her boyfriend, the cashier informs me that he is voiding the sale because her card only has enough left to cover half of the six-pack she is trying to buy. I put the void through and return to my post, hoping this will be the last I have to deal with this customer. Three minutes later:)

Customer #2: “Hi, are you [My Name]? This insane woman is over in the café trying to create a fight, and [Cashier] asked me to find you. [Customer #3] offered to pay for her beer so the rest of us could go through the line, and things went downhill from there…”

Me: *as I walk over* “Yeah, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

(As I arrive I find [Customer #1] screaming at [Customer #3] as her boyfriend hangs his head shamefully, sitting in a café booth.)

Customer #1: “You need to mind your own d*** business! I don’t need any of your d*** charity!”

(This continues for a little while longer. After she pauses, I interject:)

Me: “Ma’am, since your card wasn’t accepted, and you won’t accept her offer, I’m afraid there is nothing more we can do, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave so we can take the other customers.”

Customer #1: “FINE! I’ll just be back tomorrow after I talk to the president of my bank! I clean his bank’s floors, I’ll have you know! I know him personally!“

Customer #2: “Yeah, yeah, keep movin’!”

Customer #1: “Yeah, b—”

Customer #2: “Uh-huh, shut up and keep movin’!”

([Customer #1] finally leaves the store.)

Me: “Yep, every time she sets foot in this store it’s always something.”

(I work for the local library. On one of my days off, I am doing my grocery shopping when a young boy comes running up to me. I recognize him from our storytimes. He was almost always disruptive and unruly. He acts no differently here:)

Boy: “ I know you! You’re from the library! That means you gotta be nice to me!”

Me: *in my very best apologetic-style library voice* “That’s right, I work at the library. And yes, when we’re at the library, we need to be nice to each other. But right now, we’re not at the library, are we?”

(I could see the wheels spinning for a second or two before he turned around and ran back the way he’d came, yelling “Moooommmmyyyyy!”)

(I’m working in electronics when two older women call me over for help. They appear to be mother and daughter.)

Daughter: “Can you help us with the routers?”

Me: “Yes, of course! What’s the question?”

Mother: “We want to know which one is better. Is that blonde-haired boy working today? He helped us last time.”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. He’s not in today.”

(I help them make their selection.)

Daughter: “Do you know anyone we can call to set this up?”

Me: “I’m sorry. I do not.”

Mother: “What about that blonde-haired boy? Can’t he come to our house and set it up?”

Me: “I don’t think he’s allowed to.”

Daughter: “Well, as long as [Store] doesn’t know, he can.”

Me: “No, I really don’t think he’s allowed to do that.”

Mother: “But it’d be his free time! We’d pay him.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I really, really think he’s not allowed to.”

(After they left, I texted my “blonde-haired boy” coworker to tell him what happened. He said he definitely wasn’t allowed to go to their house to set it up. That, and he didn’t feel comfortable with it.)

(I work in a grocery store that caters mostly to the upper middle class. It’s a small, busy store, so it’s often crowded. I’m pulling a cart loaded with perishable product from our receiving area to the walk-in cooler and have to pass through a fairly narrow aisle. One of my coworkers — also with a cart of product — and another customer are behind me. A customer in the aisle is bent over next to his reusable bag, rearranging its contents. There’s just enough room for me to get through, but to be polite and warn him — and avoid a potential collision — I speak up.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir.”

(I start to pass him, and he shifts into my way so that neither I nor those behind me can get through. Then he looks me in the eye, and speaks in the snootiest tone I have ever heard.)

Customer: “I come first.”

(I had no idea how to respond, so I didn’t say anything. He took a few more seconds to pack up, and the moment he shifted back out of my way, I passed by and cleared the way for those behind me.)

(It’s Sunday, and I’m an hour into a seven-and-a-half-hour register shift. I’ll note that it’s ten am and our customer service counter opened at eight, like every other day, and also, that since it’s Sunday, the bank in the store isn’t open.)

Customer: *holding out a hundred dollar bill* “Yeah, I’ll take a fifty, a twenty—”

(At this point I understand he wants change. I’m not allowed to open my drawer for anyone unless they’re making a purchase and I’m giving change, or if an employee of the cash office needs to take money from my drawer.)

Me: *being polite and smiling* “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t make change for you. Customer service can, though!” *gestures to the customer service counter up front*

Customer: *looking irritated* “I already went up there! She said she didn’t have enough money and to go to the bank, but they’re not open yet!”

(Obviously, he hasn’t realized yet it’s Sunday and most banks aren’t open, and my coworker obviously was on autopilot. I decide rather than make him more irate and tell him that it’s Sunday and the bank won’t open, I try to explain politely.)

Me: “Sir, I’m not allowed to open my drawer unless I’m giving back change on a purchase.”

Customer: *basically shaking his hundred dollar bill at me* “But I know you have a fifty in there; I saw it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but my managers have told me I’m not allowed to open my drawer unless I’m giving back change on a purchase. If you buy something and pay with the hundred, I can give you change.”

(I’ll also note our store is big on giving the best customer service we can.)

Customer: *giving me a wide-eyed, frankly kind of scary look* “Is that the kind of customer service you want to be giving?”

Me: *in my head* “Sir, I’d like to help you, but I’m not going to break rules for you and possibly get fired.” *out loud* “I apologize, sir, but there’s nothing else I can do.”

(The guy huffs, spins around, and browses the candy on display by the register before grabbing a pack of gum and tossing it on my belt. I scan his item, he hands me his hundred, and I count out his change and even triple-check because I really don’t want to piss him off anymore at this point. I stick a paid sticker on his gum and hand it and his change to him.)

Me: *as he’s walking away* “Have a great day, sir!”

(He just walked away, all irritated. I even gave him the stupid fifty he saw in my drawer — instead of the normal two twenties and a ten — in his change so he wouldn’t bother me anymore. I later told a manager, and she told me, “Good on you!” because I didn’t give in even though he was being rude.)