I work as a shift lead at an ice cream shop. We sell banana splits. When making them, we either put on gloves or use the peel to move the banana into place. We are never supposed to touch the banana with our bare hands.

One coworker isn’t the best. On one particular shift, I catch him twice touching the banana with his bare hands. I tell him this after I catch him a third time.

Me: “[Coworker], if I catch you touching the bananas again, I’m going to cut off your fingers.”

I never saw him do that again.

I work in an ice cream shop. On a brutally hot summer day, a father, mother, and two kids come up to me and ask for their chosen flavors of ice cream. I serve them with no problems, we finish the transaction, and they go away.

A couple of minutes later, however, they come back and stand in front of me.

Mother: “Could we have you dip our ice cream in the chocolate topping?”

Me: “Oh, I am sorry, but this is not possible.”

Mother: “We’re not asking for it for free; we’ll pay you!”

Me: “Sorry again, but I cannot do this; you already ate part of the ice cream.”

Mother: “So?”

Me: *With a blank stare* “You already licked the ice cream, so I cannot dip it into the chocolate.”

Mother: *Getting angry* “You’re calling me unsanitary?!”

Me: “Ma’am, would you really want your chocolate topping mixed with another customer’s saliva?”

Mother: “Of course not! But this is completely different!”

Me: “No, ma’am, it’s not. However, I can give you a small cup of a topping of your choice and you can drizzle or sprinkle it on your cone with a spoon.”

The father cuts off his wife’s next argument:

Father: “Yes, please, that would be great!”

The kids are excited to pick out their toppings, and I give each a small cup and a plastic spoon. The kids think this is the coolest thing ever, as they have total control over where the toppings go and can add more after every lick.

The mother tries to continue her argument, but her husband firmly overrules her, pays for the toppings, and walks out. Thankfully, she follows.

I work at a major regional chain that is a restaurant, ice cream store, and market. I am working the drive-thru.

Customer: “I’d like a sundae!”

Me: “What kind of sundae?”

Customer: “A vanilla sundae!”

Me: “Okay… vanilla. What kind of sundae, though?”

The customer thinks for a moment.

Customer: “Oh… a double!”

I’m gritting my teeth now. They have specified that they want two scoops of vanilla in a dish now… but haven’t told us really anything specific yet.

Me: “Okay, vanilla, double-dip. What kind of sundae?”

Customer: “Oh, no nuts, but with whipped cream!”

Me: “Is that hot fudge, hot caramel, strawberry, marshmallow? What kind of sundae did you want?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Related:
Any Given Sundae, Part 5
Any Given Sundae, Part 4
Any Given Sundae, Part 3
Any Given Sundae, Part 2
Any Given Sundae

I work at a local, small-batch gelato place. During a fairly busy evening, a man comes up to the counter and orders a small gelato. While I’m scooping it for him, he says the following:

Customer: “I bet there’s a whole bunch of air in the bottom of that cup.”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: “It’s a money-making scheme. You probably just coat gelato over the top of the bowl and leave a whole bunch of air in the bottom.”

Me: “Actually, we use flat spatulas to scoop the gelato so that it fills up the entire cup.”

The man ignores what I say and proceeds to reach over the glass and grab the cup from my hands as I’m scooping it. He then uses his tasting spoon — used — to scoop all of the gelato out of the cup and onto the glass. He holds up the now empty cup.

Customer: “See? There’s nothing in there.”

Definitely one of my worst customer interactions.

My place of employment isn’t a regular ice cream store; we serve rolled ice cream, the kind you find under travel videos to South East Asia. I’ve worked at this establishment for almost a year now, so I kind of do the duties of a manager without the title.

Since it is still our slow season, I’m by myself in the store

A woman comes in.

Customer: “So, you guys opened up a location here now?”

Me: “I’m not sure I follow, ma’am.”

Customer: “You’re a rolled ice cream place, right?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Customer: “That’s what I thought.”

She places her order, and I make her ice cream and hand it to her.

Me: “Here you go, ma’am.”

Customer: *Disgusted* “That’s not what I ordered!”

Me: *Confused* “Oh, I’m sorry. What did you order?”

Customer: “I ordered the [number]!”

Me: “Oh, yes, ma’am, this is the [number].”

Customer: “No, it’s not! That doesn’t look like what I ordered at [Competitor]!”

I realize what she’s talking about now.

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am, they are a franchise. We don’t offer the same things they do. We are an independent store.”

Customer: “Bulls***! You both have rolled ice cream!”

Me: “Ma’am, I have neither their ingredients nor know-how, nor can I legally do what they do. I can refund your money or remake another ice cream.”

Customer: “Ugh! I know what I want! I demand the manager! You should be fired!”

Me: “The manager?”

Customer: “Yes! Are you stupid, as well?”

I keep my composure as I calmly look all around, as the store is literally one open room. I then take a step away from the counter, make a 360, and step forward again.

Me: “Hi there. I’m the manager of this store. What seems to be the trouble?”

She realized what she’d said and turned cherry red. She wound up storming out of the store without the ice cream or a refund, so I ate the ice cream.