(This happens shortly after our movie theater opens. I’m working concessions by myself with the occasional help of a manager. We have two food sections in our theater lobby: a concession where we sell popcorn, candy, and the like, and a restaurant where food is freshly made.)

Customer: “There is a hair in my nachos!”

(Though we do serve pre-packaged nachos, the ones she has a problem with are clearly from the restaurant.)

Me: “I’m so sorry about that, ma’am. If you take it over to the restaurant, they’ll be able to make you a fresh plate free of charge.”

Customer: “No! I demand you get your manager here, now!”

Me: “Um… Yes, ma’am.”

(My manager comes over and guides the woman out of line so that he can talk to her. Minutes later, he goes upstairs to the general manager’s office and she walks off to her theater. About five minutes go by.)

Customer: “Excuse me. There is still a hair in my nachos! Fix it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. My manager went upstairs to talk to his manager to see how they can better remedy your situation.”

Customer: “I want to talk to him, now!”

(This time, the general manager appears around the corner.)

General Manager: “Hi, I’m the general manager. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

Customer: “There is a hair in my nachos and no one has fixed it!”

General Manager: “Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll give you two pre-packaged nachos and two movie passes, free of charge, for your troubles.”

Customer: “Forget it! I want my money back, now! This has been the worst customer service!”

(The customer then took the offending nachos and stormed back to her theater. The best part about it all? The person working the restaurant is bald.)

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(I work at a cinema over the summer and one of the types of tickets sold is a VIP seat which is £1.95 more than the standard ticket. Not many people realise that this is how the cinema makes its profit and that employees check to make sure the VIP section is empty if none have been sold for that screen. I have to check a screen where zero tickets have been sold but the VIP section has ten people; the first family of five moves without complaint, but the second family of five is not so compliant.)

Me: “Sorry, madam, but you can only sit here if you have a VIP ticket. They’re only £1.95 extra.”

Customer: “What? I spent £50 to come to the cinema today on tickets and snacks; that’s probably more than you make in a week!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it’s company policy.”

Customer: “Don’t give me that!”

Me: “But it is!”

Customer: “I’ll move, only because I spent a lot of money today, and I don’t want to see it wasted. I’m going to complain to your manager!”

Me: “There’s nothing that can be done; it’s company policy!”

(She moved to a standard seating area, grumbling about the ridiculousness of the VIP seating rules.)

(I work in a jewellery store where all the products are kept in locked cabinets. Because of this, customers can only try jewellery when assisted by staff. For security reasons, we cannot leave customers unattended with stock.

I have pink hair. I have been serving a small family for a few minutes and as the young girl is trying to find a ring that fits, another customer comes over.)

Customer #1: “Are you serving at the moment?”

Me: “Yes, I’m currently with a customer at the moment. But I’ll be with you as soon as I’m free.”

Customer #1: “Okay, because I just want to look at a pair of earrings in this window.”

(I nod to her and continue to serve the young girl. She’s having difficulty finding one that her mum will let her buy and that she likes, so it’s taking quite some time.)

Customer #2: *who has now joined [Customer #1]* “Hey, can we just look at a pair of earrings?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I am currently serving someone, but I’ll be with you when we’re finished.”

Customer #2: “F*** you!”

(The customers both storm off, muttering furiously. The family and I are a little shell-shocked at the outburst, but I finish serving them after another ten minutes or so and the mother thanks me profusely for all my help.)

Boss: “I just had the strangest phone call from a lady who just yelled down the phone about how rude the pink-haired staff member is and then suddenly hung up before I could ask her anything.”

(I relayed to her what had happened, and she agreed that it was weird… and that we didn’t need her business anyway.)

I’m in my mid-forties. My beloved hamster started to have blood in his urine at about the worst possible time, during the start of a widespread illness. I got a same-day emergency appointment and took him to my local vet who, thankfully, was open.

There was a large sign on their door asking patients not to enter if they showed any signs of the illness, but rather to call for further instructions. I stopped, read the sign, and then carefully entered, stopping at the tape marker before the receptionist’s desk. The receptionist was a woman in her sixties wearing gloves and other protective equipment.

I noted after greeting her that I had read the sign and had no symptoms. The vet, the receptionist, and I were all careful to keep separation as much as possible during the visit.

The visit went well and my hamster was prescribed antibiotics. As I was waiting to check out and pay, a woman in her sixties walked in the door with no pet and stood right next to me, despite the fact that the place had no other clients and she could easily have moved further away.

I moved away as far as I could get and still conduct my transaction.

The receptionist told the woman, “I need to ask you if you have read the sign.”

“What sign?” the woman asked.

“Please go outside and read the sign.”

The woman stepped out, huffing, and read the sign while the receptionist and I looked at each other in horror like, “Duh? There is a flipping world-wide crisis going on.” The receptionist actually smacked her forehead and I shook my head in sheer disbelief.

The woman stepped back in and said, “I read the sign. I’m fine,” and then flopped down in a chair as close to me as she could possibly get.

I looked at the receptionist like, “Help!” and she got me checked out and on my way as fast as possible. I fled out the door with my sweet boy — the receptionist was kind enough to hold the door for us — and I hear the woman asking her if she could buy a commonly available brand of dog food you can get at nearly any store.

I still can’t believe she’d risk her life in an international health crisis for dog food she could have ordered online or had delivered to her car at the nearest pet store, and then further do so by standing right next to someone.

If I get this illness, I have a pretty good chance of making it. People her age are dying at a rate of one out of three. If the CDC and WHO and everyone else tell you to separate as much as possible, do it!

Much as I am annoyed by young people partying on the beach during this, it’s not just them that are acting foolishly.

My hamster, by the way, is doing fine.

(I purchase my coffee at a popular chain where the uniform used to be a gold name tag, black trousers, a maroon shirt, and a black apron, with the store’s logo sewn on both. Coincidentally, I am wearing a collared maroon shirt. I line up, and the two women in front of me notice me.)

Woman: *smiling* “I would like a whole cake.”

Me: *forgetting I am wearing the bistro’s colours* “That’s nice!”

(As the queue quickly moves on and we are one person closer to the counter, the woman turns to me already armed with a glaring face for my lack of urgency in cake retrieval and gives me an “up-down” look.)

Woman: *slightly irritated* “We want a whole cake!”

Me: “You can order a whole, unsliced cake at the counter.” *points to counter*

(She turned back angrily and when it was her turn to order, she spoke louder than usual for her cake, giving me the evil eye. Only when I FINISHED ordering did she realise that I was a customer. The women ignored me in fear that the mere sight of me would turn them into stone, and before I could head to the same counter to collect my drink, they ran off! Sorry, but I like maroon and I don’t harass employees when they’re off duty!)