(I work retail at a major US zoo. It’s worth noting that it’s a really large zoo and it takes a while to get from one area to another. On this particular day, I am working the rentals booth where guests can rent strollers, wheelchairs, or electric scooters. Whenever a guest rents one of our electric scooters, we give them a phone number to call if they have any issues with it so that we can bring them a new one. I have just finished my break and walked back into the booth.)

Coworker: “Hey, I had a call a few minutes ago about a scooter. They said it’s not dead, but it’s running slowly. They’re in Polar, but right as they called I got a long line and I haven’t had a chance to call someone to go run them a new one.”

Me: “Well, it’s time for your break. Do you want to run the scooter out and then go on break or have me go do it and wait to take your break?”

Coworker: “You go ahead and run it; I’ll be fine waiting.”

(I hop on one of our remaining scooters and begin driving towards Polar, which is a trek away from the front entrance. I finally get there and drive all around Polar looking for a guest on a scooter. After going all around the region and finding no one, I give up and drive back. It takes me several more minutes to get back to the front of the zoo where Rentals is located.)

Me: “I searched all over Polar and couldn’t find her.”

Coworker: “She called back after you left and said she moved to Africa. I tried finding a way to get a hold of you.”

(I groan because Africa is even farther in the same direction I had just been.)

Me: “Well, you need to take your break. You go, and I’ll call someone to hold down the fort while I go back out there.”

(He leaves and a couple of minutes later I get a second coworker to come in from another shop. I thank him for his help and then grab another scooter to leave again. In order to get to Africa in our zoo, you have to go through the North American region. North America is set up in a loop so there are two paths you can choose to take to go through it. I had already taken the right-side path to get to Polar, so I decide to take the left path this time. After driving a few more minutes I pass by a guest on a rented scooter.)

Guest: “Are you the one bringing the replacement scooter?”

Me: “Yes, are you the one who called from Africa?”

(It turns out she is. Luckily for her, I chose the path through North American that she was coming down. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have run into her and I would’ve spent who knows how long driving around Africa, which is one of our largest regions, trying to find her until someone could get a hold of me to tell me she wasn’t there. When I get back to Rentals the coworker who was helping me is seething.)

Coworker #2: “Did you find her?”

Me: “Yeah, luckily, I chose the right path through North America. Otherwise, I never would have known she’d left Africa.”

Coworker: “Shortly after you left, she called here and chewed me out, complaining about how long it was taking to get her replacement and how she was moving again. I tried to get her to understand that if she didn’t stay in one place we wouldn’t be able to find her.”

(I get that the guest didn’t want to waste her time at the zoo just staying in one place, but if she had just been a little patient and stayed in Polar to begin with, I could have gotten her replacement to her at least thirty minutes sooner.)

(We have a regular customer who is disabled and prefers to sit on a specific sofa in our coffee shop because it’s more comfortable for her. She always comes in at a low-traffic time so that sofa is usually free – no problems. Today, I’ve taken her tea and toast over to her and am back at the till serving more customers when I see a lady with her kid come in, go over to the sofa, and point at our regular.)

Customer: “Right, you need to move.”

Regular: “Err, sorry, what?”

Customer: “That’s our seat.”

Regular: *looking around at almost empty shop* “There are loads of other seats and I just sat down.”

Customer: “No, we always sit here. My kid’s autistic and can’t handle sitting anywhere else.”

Regular: “As you can see–” *points to walking aids* “–I can’t exactly jump up and move, anyway. Look, I’ll be about half an hour, so if you come back later the seat will be free, then.”

Customer: “No. You can sit anywhere else. My son can’t.”

(She then picks up our regular’s food and drink and puts it down on a nearby table!)

Regular: “What the bloody h*** are you playing at?!”

(I manage to get one of the other staff over to take over the till while I go over to sort this. I give our regular back her food and drink.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, you can’t just take other people’s food and drink.”

Customer: “She’s in our space.”

Me: “With all due respect, it’s not your space. Either stop bothering this lady and sit somewhere else or leave.”

Customer: “We have to sit here! My son has autism! This [disabled slur] here can sit anywhere; we can’t!”

Me: “Okay, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. You’re causing a scene.”

Customer: “That’s discrimination! Get me your manager.”

Me: “No. Get out.”

Customer: “I bet she wouldn’t need a whole sofa if she wasn’t so f****** fat, anyway.”

Me: “Out!”

Customer: “I’m going to get you fired!”

Me: “Get out or I’m calling the police.”

(She did leave then, swearing her head off about how “fat isn’t disabled.” I asked our regular if she was okay and she gave me a fiver, “as a tip, and a thank-you for getting my tea back!” I’d never seen that lady nor her kid before!)

(My in-laws own a cabin at the lake. One summer, my 21-year-old daughter asks if she and her friends can borrow it for a long weekend.)

Mother-In-Law: “That’s fine, but there are a couple of things you need to promise me. Keep the noise down; don’t disturb our neighbours.”

Daughter: “No problem, Grandma.”

Mother-In-Law: “Also, you need to clean up after yourselves. Leave the cabin looking exactly as you found it. Got it? Otherwise, I won’t lend it to you again.”

Daughter: “Absolutely. I promise.”

(After the weekend is over, I ask how it went.)

Daughter: “Fine! We had a few drinks each evening, but we stayed inside the cabin, and we didn’t make any noise. On the morning we left, the three of us cleaned the place from top to bottom, and it looked great.”

(Later that day, the phone rings. It is my mother-in-law.)

Husband: “I hear that [Daughter] and her friends had a great time at the cabin. Thanks so much for lending it to them.”

Mother-In-Law: “Uh-huh.”

Husband: “Is something wrong?”

Mother-In-Law: “I told her that she had to leave the place clean. I’m not happy, and I’m thinking seriously about not lending it to her again.”

Husband: “But… she said that they left it spic-and-span. What didn’t they clean?”

Mother-In-Law: “The underside of the toilet seat.”

Husband: *expectant pause* “And?”

Mother-In-Law: “That’s it.”

Husband: “That’s it? They only missed one thing that I don’t think I would have remembered to clean?”

Mother-In-Law: “Regardless, it wasn’t cleaned. I’ll have to think long and hard before I let her borrow the cabin again.”

(She eventually relented, but sheesh. There’s being house-proud, and then there’s THAT.)

(I work for an online store as a customer service employee, team email. Our emails always start with “Geachte heer/mevrouw,” translating it as “Dear sir/madam.” One customer is irate and one of my colleagues makes a typo in the start, “Gehate heer/mevrouw,” which you can translate as “Hated sir/madam.”)

Customer: “This is outrageous! How dare you treat me like that?”

Me: “I do apologize; it was a typo. My colleague meant, ‘[proper introduction].’”

Customer: “Stop lying! I know all the Internet slang! Your colleague just threatened me!”

Me: “Again apologies, sir, but it was a typo. My colleague had no malintent.”

Customer: “I will go to the police and file a report! Two reports! One for you guys scamming me and the other because [Colleague] threatened me! I have the email as proof!”

(It was then decided it would be sent through to our main office. They, too, couldn’t convince the man it was just a typo… The original complaint? The man had given a wrong address and the order had returned, giving him a full refund.)

(All I need is a tape measure. I ask an employee because I am tired and I don’t feel like wheeling around the whole store. I’m a woman in a wheelchair, and the employee seems to be an abled man.)

Employee: “Sure thing, sweetie! Follow me!”

(He leads me to the hardware section.)

Employee: “Now, this is a tape measure.” *grabs one and extends it* “Do you need a biiiig one or a smaaaallll one?”

Me: *pause* “That three-foot one is fine.”

Employee: “Are you sure? Three feet isn’t very long.”

Me: “It’s fine. Thank you.”

Employee: “Oooookaaay. It’s only this long.” *fully extends the tape measure*

Me: “Thanks for your help!”

Employee: “Have a good day, sweetie!”