A man came up to my ice cream stall today. I’m the manager at a mall food court location. I greeted the man and he gave me his order pleasantly enough. I give him his total and he proceeded to try to hand me a $100 bill. We have an in-store policy that we do not take $100 bills.
Me: “I can’t break a hundred.”
On a normal day with a normal person, that pretty much handles that.
He stared at me for a moment.
Customer: “What do you mean? This is a legal American note.”
Me: “I understand, and I’m sorry, but it’s our policy.”
Customer: “Well, that’s all I have, so you have to take it.”
Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t take it.”
Customer: “This is legal tender. It’s in the Constitution that I can use this here.”
This basically crossed the line for me.
Me: “You’ve now made the situation uncomfortable and I simply can’t serve you.”
Customer: “Can I have your name?”
I (stupidly) gave it since I’m directly under the owner and ultimately was upholding HER policy.
Customer: “You’re a f****** b****.”
He walked away. I was shaken at this but thought it was over with. I continued taking the people in line so I didn’t even have to think about it.
The man came back up not ten minutes later, with his wife in tow. She was already charged up and ready to yell.
Wife: “I have a debit card!”
Me: “I still don’t feel comfortable serving you. Your husband called me a f****** b****.”
Wife: “You deserve it; you gave him attitude for no reason!”
One of my staff members started arguing with the wife about how it was a store policy that none of us even had control over, and it turned into a yelling match. I turned to a different staff member.
Me: “Go find a security guard.”
Wife: *Laughing* “A security guard isn’t going to do anything!”
Me: “At least they’ll get you away from us.”
While we were waiting for security, I kept taking other orders. The man stood at the end of the counter talking loudly with his wife.
Customer: “[My Name] is gonna have a discrimination lawsuit on her hands. [My Name] is gonna be dealing with corporate for this.”
The wife found one of the real cops that are hired to patrol the mall and brought him over before security showed up. I was still cheerfully — though, admittedly, literally shaking — taking people getting in line while they talked to the cop.
Eventually, the cop came up.
Cop: “[Customer] has admitted that he was in the wrong for the most part. Don’t you think we can come to a resolution here?”
Me: “I’m sorry, but I still won’t be serving them.”
Cop: “Well, come on. What if I’m here?”
I was already frustrated, and my voice shook as I responded.
Me: “That man is using my name to intimidate me. He called me a f****** b****. There’s another place to get what they want two stalls down; they can head there.”
The cop kept silent eye contact as if he didn’t really accept this answer, so I offered to just call the owner for him. He slowly shook his head.
Cop: “Don’t worry about it.”
He went back to the couple, and I heard:
Customer: “How can they do this?”
Wife: “Well, how do I get in contact with corporate?”
As if the cop had a clue.
They eventually did go two stalls down. The cherry they couldn’t resist putting on top was calling me and my four teenage girl staff members b****es as they walked back past with their purchase. The entitlement and the audacity were unreal.
