My family’s store was closing down due to low profits and was selling the locale to the ice cream shop next door, which was very popular. As I was there, helping to pack out the locale, we took a break and went next door to buy some ice cream. They were very friendly and helpful when some customers walked in and ordered ice cream.

Ice Cream Man: “There you go. Now, we will close down next week as we’re moving in next door, but we open again the week after that.”

Customer: “You’re closing down? Why?”

Ice Cream Man: “Well, we are moving in next door; it is bigger and customers will be able to sit down and eat their ice cream.”

Customer: “You’re moving?! Where?!”

Ice Cream Man: “Next door.”

Customer: “But I can’t walk that far to get my ice cream!”

Ice Cream Man: “I’m sorry to hear that, but it is right next door.”

Customer: “This is unbelievable. You shouldn’t move. Is it not going well here?”

Ice Cream Man: “Yes, we are very popular which is why we need a bigger locale.”

Customer: “You’re betraying your customers! Now, where are the chairs? I want to sit down.”

I work at an ice cream shop in Germany. With the health crisis, we have a few rules: only outside seating is available, and you have to fill in your personal details on a piece of paper in order for us to contact you if something happens. Also, you have to ask the employee first whether you could sit at one of the tables. The tables even have big stickers on them telling you to please contact the staff first before seating yourself, as you need to receive that detail paper. We have chairs up on the indoor tables to prevent people from sitting there.

I have four middle-aged customers come in, immediately go to an inside table, and take down the chairs on top of it.

Me: *Politely* “We are not allowed to have inside seating. And you need to come up to me to order first, anyway.”

Customer #1: *Smugly* “Oh, we have been coming here for years. It’s fine. Are you new? We always sit here.”

I am a bit perplexed as I have been working here for six years and have never seen them here. I try to avoid any unnecessary small talk.

Me: “I’m actually a long-time employee. With current [health crisis] rules, things are being handled differently now.”

I explained how our system works now and ask if they want to take a seat outside after they get their ice cream and I write down their details.

Customer #2: “We have to give you our details? Why? We come here often.”

Me: “It is a [health crisis] rule that applies to every shop offering food in our region!”

As it has been for months, I should add.

The entitled friends just grumble, roll their eyes, and order. I have to inform ALL of them separately that they should not take their masks off their mouths when talking to me, as I can understand them just fine.

They finally pay.

Me: “Would you like to sit outside? I’ll happily bring you the paper you have to fill out.”

Customer #1: “No, we will not be staying at one of your tables. Don’t worry.”

I am honestly quite happy that they don’t intend to stay.

They go out and around the corner. I serve some more people, and after a while, I finally get the time to go outside and disinfect the tables people have been sitting at.

I look to my left, and there the group is, happily sitting at the last table around the corner — the only one that I can’t see from inside.

They notice me and just stare. One lady even rolls her eyes again. I sigh and go back inside to get them a paper to write their details on. It is policy, after all, and I don’t want trouble.

Me: “Hello. You will have to fill in your details before you leave, all right?”

More stares. I just turn around awkwardly and only hear a faint, “Why does it apply to us?” behind me as I’m already walking back inside.

Me: “Sorry, it’s the policy.”

Of course, when I came back to check on them, they were gone, with the paper still laying there, untouched.

I just thought to myself, “If you don’t want to get a notification if someone near you has had [contagious illness] and you could be at risk because of that, that’s not my problem at all.”

And, of course, the frickin’ table was a MESS. I don’t know if any ice cream even made its way into their mouths or just ended up on the seats and table immediately.

I work in an ice cream shop, and I constantly have customers asking for things we don’t sell.

Customer #1: “Oh, do you have waffles?”

Me: “Ma’am, we serve ice cream; it’s on the sign.”

Customer #2: “Do you guys have any chicken?”

Me: “Sir, we only sell ice cream here, no chicken.”

Customer #3: “I’d like a coffee.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t serve coffee, only ice cream.”

Customer #3: “Why don’t you sell coffee when it’s on your menu?!”

Me: “Because it’s coffee ice cream.”

This always annoys me.

We are going through a massive heatwave. Air conditioning is extremely rare and everyone is a little irritable from the heat. Eventually, I can’t handle it, so I decide to get some ice cream to cool down, and unsurprisingly, there’s a queue. This specific shop makes fresh churros to order and some people are ordering them so there is a small backlog, but it’s nothing crazy.

A woman walks up behind me and I immediately know she will be trouble when she starts huffing. Some other people begin to glare at her for this, which only makes her more annoyed as she begins whining in annoyance.

We all know she wants to skip the queue so she won’t have to wait, but none of us are letting her do so. By this point, there are maybe fifteen of us waiting and there are three people inside; one is taking orders and the other two are fulfilling orders. Once they have caught up, the one taking the orders walks out and asks us to queue in a U shape so people can access other shops. Most are fine with this, but not this woman. Once the worker goes back inside, she brings her phone out, and this is what I hear.

Customer: “This f****** stupid b**** thinks she can tell me what to do when she won’t go inside and do her own job. Lazy c***s, the whole lot of them. It’s not a difficult thing to do, so who does she think she is not serving me?”

The people in front of me turn to her in surprise at this, but I don’t, having dealt with people like this daily for years. I am able to tune her out for the most part, but she just keeps ranting to whoever is on the phone with constant huffing, whining, and moaning. I am beginning to reach my tether with her when she comes out with the following.

Customer: “Why are they taking so long?! I shouldn’t have to wait like a servant. Can someone move so I can order?”

I don’t hear the next part of this rant as I am let inside, but from what I see, she gets into an argument with people in the queue. I order and wait. The woman comes in and orders a lot of something that is backed up. The moment she is told there is a wait, she goes into a rage.

Customer: “How dare you tell me to wait?! I am a professor at [University five minutes away] and I will not be treated like this! You will serve me right this moment, and if you do not, I will be complaining!”

Remembering years of being the one on the receiving end of this, this does it for me.

Me: “Hey, it is 30° (86° F), most people are off as it’s a weekend and not everywhere is back open yet. We are all tired and desperate for something to cool off. Unlike you, we were taught how to wait our turn. You have been stomping your feet, you have been whining, you have been huffing, and you have been complaining non-stop because you’re not being treated like something special. Now either wait your turn like an adult or stomp off as an overgrown, spoiled three-year-old!”

I got the harshest glare ever for that, but those who were also waiting began to say similar things. She proceeded to stomp out with her nose in the air and not-so-secretly screaming in annoyance, as she hadn’t fully closed the door. Once I finally got called to collect my order, I noticed a hastily written thank-you on a napkin. It wasn’t much, but it felt good to put someone like her in their place for once.

Someone orders a “Fruity Pebble shake”, which is not something we do. The customer has misinterpreted a sign that announces a new shake flavor (coffee) and another note at the bottom of the sign which advertises a “Fruity Pebble ice cream sandwich.” The amount of Fruity Pebbles that we have is extremely limited as we only use them for the sandwiches.

After we tell her we cannot make said shake, she tries to argue by saying that the sign advertises one. We seemingly manage to convince her, as she orders everything else, before again attempting to get a Fruity Pebble shake. She finally concedes and proceeds through the drive-thru.

When she reaches the window to pay and get her items, she again requests a Fruity Pebble shake. An employee calmly explains to her that we literally cannot make one, and she requests to speak with a manager.

For a bit of context about the establishment, it isn’t a franchise or anything; there are like two of them, both owned by the same family. Most of the employees a) are in high school, b) recently graduated from high school, or c) are over the age of forty. The older adults, however, only work in the mornings, and she is here during the later shift, meaning the oldest person working is in her early twenties.

When we say we have a supervisor, not a manager, as it is a very small business, she continues to argue until the supervisor gives her the boss/owner’s number. Of course, nothing comes out of it except lines on the sign to separate the advertisements.