(I work as a ticket-taker at my city’s zoo. Tickets to the dolphin show are free as long as you purchase general admission tickets or have a season pass. We just give out physical tickets to control how many people attend each show. A man and his two children approach my booth, and the man is clearly aggravated.)

Guest: “We lost track of time and missed the dolphin show. I need a refund.”

Me: “I’m sorry you missed the show, but the tickets were actually free, so I can’t give you a refund. There’s another show in half an hour if you’d like three tickets for that, instead.”

Guest: “Wow, are you f****** kidding me? I just said I need a refund, and now you’re trying to get more money out of me? Lady, I don’t want more tickets. I want my money back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but as I said, the tickets to the dolphin show are included in your admission fee. I can’t give you a refund for that.”

Guest: “Well, then just give me a refund for that!”

Me: “For what?”

Guest: “For my f****** general admission!”

Me: “Sir, I really can’t do that, either. “

Guest: “This place is a rip-off!”

(He stormed off with his kids, both of them crying that they weren’t ready to leave and that they wanted to see the dolphin show.)

(I’m helping with some interviews for a craft store, as I’m a new manager. I am asked to interview a girl in her twenties, just a couple of years younger than me. I go through her application and it looks normal: some retail experience, finished high school, computer proficient. I call her to set up the interview.)

Me: “Hi, is this [Applicant]?”

Applicant: “Yeah. What’s up?”

Me: “This is [My Name] with [Store], calling about your application. We’d like to have you come in for an interview!”

Applicant: “Oh, cool. Can we do it at [Coffee Shop]? I don’t wanna come all the way out there.” 

Me: “Unfortunately, we have all interviews done in the store. I can see if it can be done on a day you’re more open, though!”

Applicant: “Ugh, I guess.”

(We get it scheduled, and I tell her goodbye and hang up. I look at the other manager in the office with me.)

Me: “If driving to the store is such a hassle just for the interview, how is she gonna manage driving here to work when she’s scheduled?”

Manager: “Yeah, I’ve seen that.”

(Later on, she comes in for her interview. She’s dressed somewhat professionally but looks annoyed the entire time. I bring her back to one of our classrooms to do the interview so it’s out of the way.)

Me: “So, do you do any crafts?”

Applicant: “Ew, no. I just go on Etsy a lot.” 

Me: “All right, do you know a lot about any of the crafts?” 

Applicant: “Nope. Don’t care to learn; I finished school and that’ll be it for learning.” 

(I’ve already made my decision about hiring her, but I decide to finish out the interview as a courtesy. The rest of her answers are about the same: she doesn’t seem interested in helping customers, doesn’t care to do overnights to stock, and doesn’t want to work the register. We wrap things up, and I let her know we’ll call her.)

Applicant: “Okay. So, do I do my new paperwork stuff tomorrow?”

Me: “We have work on our end that needs to be done first, which can take a bit. Like I said, we’ll call you.”

Applicant: “Ugh, okay.”

(As I come back into the office, I apparently look exhausted, because the other manager looks concerned.)

Manager: “Bad interview?”

Me: “She doesn’t craft, doesn’t know anything about crafting, and doesn’t want to learn. She says if a customer is rude, she’ll just tell them to leave. And that if they need help, they can just Google it. How has she worked retail like this?!”

Manager: “Probably either lied or has a family member in management. At least you don’t have to try to train her.” 

(She called back weeks later to ask when she should come in. The other manager had the pleasure of telling her we went with someone else.)

(I am working an average day at my computer repair job when a woman approaches the counter carrying her copy of the repair order. This isn’t unusual as it’s an easy way to confirm it’s their computer.)

Me: “Hello, my name is [My Name]. Are you here to pick up your—”

(She cuts me off by slamming the paper down on the counter.)

Customer: “Look at this and explain it to me!”

(I look it over; she is pointing at the information about the device.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, did we check in the device under the wrong model or serial number and were you shipped the wrong device?”

Customer: “No! Not that! This!”

(She is pointing at the description of the device; under it, my coworker who worked with her has written “dirty.”)

Me: “Well, ma’am, when a device comes in we have to note anything about its physical appearance, including damages, so we know if something was damaged or tampered with while in our possession.”

Customer: “You made it dirty! I see a lot of filth around here! You put scratches on it, too!”

(I continue calmly.)

Me: “Ma’am, your device is not here and is still at service. I apologize if it offended you, but [Coworker] was just doing his job.”

Customer: “It’s my mother’s! If you knew anything about my mother you would realize you could eat off her floor!”

(My manager is on his way because she demanded to see him, but she leaves before he gets there simply leaving a note that she demanded that she be called after everyone was staring.)

(I work at a popular grilled sub food chain. Currently, it’s five until closing, with a night manager and me on duty. We’ve almost finished cleaning everything and I’m happy we are getting out close to our closing time for once. Then, three guys in their forties come in. I come out of the back from washing dishes to see them ordering. As the manager fires up the grill, I cash them out and see that they have bought fries. Only one guy is paying, and since it is five until close, I assume they are getting their food to go.)

Me: *after handing him the receipt* “Would you like separate bags for each meal, sir?”

Customer #1: “What?”

Manager: *as he pulls me over* “They’re eating here.”

Me: *as I didn’t know this was allowed* “What?”

Manager: “They are eating here. They got dine-in.”

Me: “But it’s five until close. We have to honor that even if it’s five until close?”

Manager: “Look, you’re pissing me off. Just go work in the back; we’ll be done soon.”

(I leave because, hey, I don’t want a superior pissed at me, and I get the fry equipment back in order and make the three guys their fries. Once their footlongs are done, I bring their food to their table. The three idiots don’t hear me at first, as they are occupied with our television, which is playing football.)

Customer #2: *as I’m walking back to the kitchen.* “Do y’all have any ketchup?”

Me: “Yeah, I can get you some packets.”

(The guy doesn’t even say thanks. Whatever. I go back to the dishwashing area and reclean the bowls used to measure meat, the meat tongs, spatulas, spreading knives, bread knife, fry tongs, fry measurer, fry tin, bread pan, and fry scooper. The manager stays up front recleaning the grill and shutting down the equipment. Forty minutes after closing, the guys finally get ready to go.)

Customer #1: *to my manager* “Hey, sorry we kept you guys late. I’m in the business myself, and I hate when people come in just before closing.”

(He then leaves, without leaving a tip or anything more than his half-baked apology.)

Manager: “Oh, it’s no problem.” *as he brings me their baskets* “Here, clean this. Mop the line when you’re done.”

(He takes out the trash, remops where the guys were, and cashes the drawers as I sweep and mop behind the production line. The next day, our assistant manager pulls me aside.)

Assistant Manager: “Okay, why were you here until eleven? Because it shouldn’t have taken you guys that long to close.”

(I explain how we had customers come in and stay until 10:40, and how the night manager didn’t want to do any cleaning until they had left.)

Assistant Manager: “And what’s this about you and NM in a confrontation?”

(Turns out, the night manager had messaged the assistant manager and told her that, “I’ve discovered that [My Name] is afraid of me. He was annoyed at late customers and I told him that he was pissing me off and to go work and he did.” Unfortunately for him, I’ve now learned he has no power to fire me after assurances from the assistant manager. But you’re a real badass, [Night Manager], for shouting at a teen worker under you and bragging about how you’re so terrifying.)

(A customer brings his expensive — $1000 — camera in for repair because he has cracked an aftermarket lens. This was not purchased with the camera and is not covered under his accidental damage warranty.)

Customer: “I need to get this camera replaced. Just give me the money and I will go buy something else.”

Me: “Sir, the lens that has been damaged was not the one that came with it. Therefore, it would not be covered under the damage protection plan.”

Customer: “I paid for the plan and was told that it would cover anything at all that happened to this f****** camera. You are going to give me my money right now or I am going to sue you.”

Me: “Sir. Do you have the original lens that came with the camera?”

Customer: “Yes, it’s in the bag but it’s not damaged. What’s it f****** matter? That’s not the one that’s damaged.”

Me: “If you had damaged that lens we could replace the camera and/or lens for you with no problem. But because you broke something you purchased somewhere else and didn’t purchase a plan, we can’t help you.”

Customer: “So, you’re saying if the camera itself was damaged it would get replaced?” 

Me: “Sure, your plan covers accidental damage. It would be covered. The other lens wouldn’t be, though.”

Customer: “F*** you, you ignorant a**hole!”

(The customer walks out front from the service desk and, in plain view of everyone, he grabs his camera by the strap and swings it onto the ground several times. He walks back into the store.)

Customer: “I seem to have had some accidental damage to my camera. I need to get it and the lens replaced.”

Me: “I just watched you smash that on the concrete. Your contract/warranty is now null and void and I am refusing service to you. Have a wonderful day.”

(The customer left the store swearing up a storm, threw the camera and bag against the front glass, and ran. Two days later, I received a notice from the home office that they had decided to help out the customer: he got his camera replaced as well as the third-party lens. Gotta love out-of-touch upper management!)