After the lockdown restrictions are loosened, my parents, two of my many aunts, and I have decided to go to a pizzeria to celebrate my dad’s Name Day. We get seated, get our menus, and pick our dishes: I choose a seafood carbonara, my parents and [Aunt #1] go for pizzas, and [Aunt #2] says she wants to ask the waiter something first.

Aunt #2: “Hello, I’d like some pasta with tomato sauce, but can you make it with raw tomatoes?”

Waiter: “I am sorry, madam, but we can’t do that.”

Aunt #2: “Why not? Just stick some salad tomatoes in a blender and pour it on the pasta or something.”

Waiter: “That would be a health code violation, I’m afraid.”

Aunt #2: *Irritated* “What do you mean, ‘it’s a health code violation’? How’s that possible? Do you pick them up covered in cow dung or something?”

Waiter: “No, we aren’t allowed to serve uncooked tomatoes here.”

Aunt #2: “What do you think dried tomatoes for [pizza] are, then? Those are raw; you must have raw, undried tomatoes, too!”

Waiter: “No, madam, we buy those dried tomatoes; we don’t make them here. We wouldn’t have the space to, anyway.”

Aunt #2: “Fine! Bring me pasta with anchovy filtering.”

Waiter: “We don’t have anchovy filtering, sorry. Would using full anchovies be fine?”

Aunt #2: “Absolutely not! I’d rather have white pasta, thank you very much!”

Waiter: “All right, one white pasta, coming up.”

And off he goes. As soon as he’s back into the kitchen, she speaks up again.

Aunt #2: *Pouting* “Stupid health code. Why does everything good have to be forbidden? What kind of pizzeria doesn’t stock fresh tomatoes, aside from those crappy Moroccan places?”

Aunt #1 & Mom: “[Aunt #2]!”

Aunt #2: “Look, I don’t know what’s the latest weird fashion to make pizza. No place in my youth would’ve refused to serve you pasta with raw tomatoes, that’s for sure.”

Aunt #1: “In our youth, we also didn’t shout at waiters, and we didn’t expect places to have luxuries like anchovy filtering.”

Aunt #2: “Any respectable place should!”

Dad: “Have you ever seen any restaurant serving anchovy filtering? Because I never have.”

Aunt #2: “My friend’s place back in Salerno did, so there!”

[Aunt #2] glares and keeps pouting as I awkwardly sit there waiting for things to arrive. Meanwhile, my parents facepalm and my other aunt sighs. When our dishes arrive, we eat it up with gusto, while [Aunt #1] eats her dish of cheese-and-oil pasta very slowly, grunting every time she sees the waiter pass by. The day after this dinner, [Aunt #2] is conversing with one of my cousins.

Aunt #2: “[Pizzeria] is horrible and doesn’t have anything; it’s just a fancy place so that youngsters can drink swill and look cool.”

I resisted the urge to shake her until some sense entered into her.

I work for a large theme park and water park chain that has many branches. We offer season passes that let you into specific parks.

Customer: “Hi. The entry people said my cards aren’t working and they can’t let me in.”

Me: “Okay, sir, let me scan your cards and see what’s going on.”

I scan the pass and see that they’re all active but they’re for a different location.

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but since these are a season pass, they’re only good for [Location]’s theme park and your home water park in [Location].”

Customer: “But online it said it’s good nationally!”

Me: “That might’ve meant it’s only good for all [Company]’s theme parks. The only water park you’re allowed to use this for free entry on is your home water park.”

Customer: *Angrily* “But the website where I bought it said it’s good nationally! I should be able to get in!” 

Me: “Again, I’m really sorry, sir, but this is only good for entry there.”

The customer then angrily throws his cards at me through a hole in the window and starts to walk off. He then turns around, comes right back up to my window, and demands the cards back. I slowly pick them up, get them in order, and hand them back. He snatches them out of my hand and storms off. I then tell my managers what happened.

Managers: “Wow, [My Name], you’re too nice. I wouldn’t have given them back. I would’ve just confiscated them.”

We all had a laugh at that and they were hence referred to as the Beyblade customers.

I’m selling a cell phone on eBay. I ship it as a first-class package and drop it off in a USPS dropbox on Monday. I get the following email three days later.

Customer: “Although you have printed a shipping label, the tracking shows that it has not been mailed. Either confirm that the phone has indeed been given to USPS or put it in the mail within the next twenty-four hours. I expect that the item should have been in transit days ago. Get it done!”

Confused, I check the tracking, and lo, it does not show that it has shipped. I begin to worry about whether it got picked up from the dropbox, but I decide to wait and watch a bit before replying.

The next day, I check the tracking and it has been delivered. The post office apparently didn’t scan it in properly at pickup, which happens from time to time. I respond.

Me: “I’m sorry for your misfortune. I dropped off the item Monday, and from what I can tell, it never got scanned until it reached its destination facility. It should have been delivered now.”

Customer: “Yep. I’m trying to activate it now. Thanks.”

And of course, why would you acknowledge your unnecessary hostility?

I’m a female Army veteran. I have a job as a day aide for elderly clients. One of my clients is a ninety-eight-year-old lady who is very exacting about how she wants things done. She is also mostly blind, so she wants me to read to her.

Client: “I want you to read some short stories to me. Have you ever heard of The Decameron?”

Me: “No, I haven’t.”

Client: “Oh. I guess there isn’t much literature reading in the Army.”

Me: “Well, that’s rude.”

Client: *Staring at me in shock* “What do you mean?”

Me: “You saying there isn’t much literature reading in the Army. I do read.”

Client: “Oh, I just meant you hadn’t had a literature class.”

Me: “I have, in high school and in college. I’ve read plenty of classics, like The Iliad, The Odyssey, and The Aeneid. Just because I haven’t heard of this particular book doesn’t mean I’m uneducated.”

Client: “Well, I… I didn’t mean to imply that you don’t read. Just that you… I’m sorry.”

Since she apologized, I decided to let it go at that and read the stories to her. Once we got past that, we actually had a good conversation about the book, which is a series of stories based on the Black Plague. Yes, I know, a bit weird to read that right now, but it was nice to sit and talk. When it was time to leave, she said she was excited to have me back to read, so that’s a win.

I’ve trained one of my coworkers to use some software. It’s not exactly hard, but you need to do things in precise order or the software won’t work quite right.

Me: “Hey, [Coworker], just noticed a few blips in the data you sent over.”

Coworker: *Abruptly* “Well, I did it right!”

Me: “I’m not saying it’s wrong; it just maybe needs looking at, tweaking maybe. Let me show you.”

She sighs dramatically. I try to show her on her screen but she does all she can to not look. It’s a bit pathetic and more like a child being told off than a forty-something woman.

Me: “Instead of copying the data from there, if you copy from here, it will be formatted properly.”

Coworker: “Yeah, yeah.”

I leave it there. I don’t need her rudeness. She has had as much training as me; I shouldn’t even need to train her. The next week, more data, more issues.

Me: “Could you please resend that data? It’s not formatted properly.”

Coworker: “No. If you want it a certain way, then you do it.”

Me: “Okay, fine. Don’t say I haven’t made every effort.”

She mutters something under her breath. I ignore it and manipulate the data by hand. It’s not a big deal but annoying and time-consuming. I jot down everything she said and the times and dates for everything, because I know what is happening next.

The following week, I am on holiday. The reason I deal with the data after [Coworker] is that it is needed by a senior manager. I tidy it up more as a favour to him as we get on well, and that I know he is stupid busy.

I come back in from holiday to find several emails from my boss.

Boss: “[My Name], what is this mess of data? I know you help me out, but half of it isn’t even spelt correctly.”

Boss: “Sorry! Just saw that you’re on holiday and this didn’t come from you. I will address this with the right person.”

The third and fourth emails are to my coworker but I get copied.

Boss: “[Coworker], this data is not up to the standard that is expected; there are a number of basic mistakes that are not acceptable. Please redo this immediately and send this to me by the end of the day.”

The next day:

Boss: “I didn’t receive the data yesterday, despite making it clear that it was needed. Please send this ASAP or I will have to discuss this with your boss.”

[Coworker] took a few days off due to “stress” following this. Of course, she blamed me for it all. No one believed her, as I’ve trained many others without issue, and the fact that I documented everything just was the icing on the cake.

She continued to blame me and refused to be trained by me. As I was the trainer for many of the tasks, this just meant she couldn’t learn anything new. In one case, I had to train someone solely to train her. As all pay rises are directly linked to performance and the number of tasks able to be completed, she was just hurting herself.