(It’s two days before Christmas and my uncle invites my brother and me to see a newly released movie with him, his wife, and their daughter. When we get to the theater, we realize he didn’t buy tickets ahead of time. As it’s so close to Christmas and the movie is new, they’re sold out.)

Employee: “I am sorry, sir, but the next four showings for [Movie] are sold out.”

Uncle: “WHAT?!”

Employee: “There is a showing available at 9:30 tonight; it currently has twelve seats open.”

Uncle: *yelling* “You didn’t save me a seat?!”

Employee: “Did you make a reservation?”

Uncle: “I shouldn’t have to! You should save me a seat!”

Employee: “The only way to make reservations is to go online or to come in ahead of time to do it in person.”

Uncle: “But you should have saved me a seat!”

Employee: “Um… but I don’t know you…”

(My brother and I were distancing ourselves as much as possible from the scenario and making excuses to leave. Yes, my uncle is always an a** like that. We ended up leaving and letting him and his wife and daughter try to figure out what they wanted to do.)

It’s a busy day at the restaurant where I’m a dishwasher. I hear a lot of stories that the servers tell us in the kitchen. This is one of them.

A waitress comes in, saying how rude a customer is being because they got the wrong order. It’s a simple mistake, right? When she apologizes to them, saying that it’s an honest mistake — the food is for another table — the customer replies with, “Well, there goes your tip.”

Since the employees are allowed to somewhat tell off rude customers, my coworker replies with, “Bud, I’m not here for the tips; I’m here for the fun.”

Seriously, people. We’re all allowed to make mistakes. Being penalized your tip shouldn’t be any sort of punishment. There should be no punishment at all, really.

(I work at a shipping store. Most of my job revolves around typing in shipping and return addresses. All information is saved under the customer’s phone number for future shipments. This transaction takes place during the Christmas season. The customer is a middle-aged woman.)

Me: “I can help whoever is next.”

Customer: “Yes, I need to ship this box to California.”

Me: “We can handle that. Looks like you need a shipping label, so can I start by getting your phone number?”

Customer: “…” *silently glaring at me*

Me: “Can I get your phone number, please?”

Customer: *with obvious annoyance* “You shouldn’t hit on people at work; it’s very rude.”

Me: *now a little wary* “I’m sorry, let me clarify. Our computer saves your name and address under your phone number for future shipments, so if you come back later we won’t have to type in all your information again.”

Customer: “No! You were hitting on me. I want to speak to the owner.”

Me: “If you insist. He’s right here.”

Owner: *has been listening the whole time* “He’s not lying; we need your number for our computer for contact info and future shipments.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. Do you harass all your female customers like this?”

Owner: “Ma’am, we are trying to help, but we cannot ship your package without your information.”

Customer: “Bull! You are all a bunch of stalkers!”

Owner: “I’m sorry you feel that way, but if you’re not going to cooperate, then you need to leave. We are very busy today and I don’t have time for this.”

Customer: *now yelling* “This is insane! You’re all sexist pigs! You’ll be hearing from my lawyer you—“ *slew of insults and foul language*

Owner: “I’m done. Get the h*** out of my store and don’t come back.”

Customer: *turns and starts walking out*

Me: “Next customer over here!”

New Customer: *talking loudly so the first customer can hear* “MY NUMBER IS [Number].”

Me: *bursts out laughing* “Thank you for that. You just made my day!”

(My store offers gift wrapping services. A few times a week, I have some version of this conversation:)

Customer: “I heard that you guys do gift wrapping.”

Me: “We do! What would you like wrapped?”

(The customer chooses paper, ribbon, etc., and prepares to pay.)

Me: “All right, it will take me probably about 15 to 20 minutes to wrap this, so if you want to continue shopping or get something to eat or drink and come back, that’s perfectly fine.”

Customer: “It will take that long?!”

(Then, I usually give some variation of “I’m the only one here, we’re busy right now, etc.” What I wish I could say: “Do you want me to make it look good, like you’re paying me to, or do you just want me to slap it together? If you were going to wrap this, how long would it take you?”)

(A customer comes up to my register with a game that’s priced at $40.)

Me: “All right, sir, your total is—“

Customer: “Hey, that game is supposed to be $20! Why is it ringing up for $40?!”

Me: “Well, sir, if you’d look at—“

Customer: “No, I don’t want excuses! I want you to fix it now!”

Me: “Sir, please, if you just look at—“

Customer: “Where is the game? That price tag said $20!”

Me: *shows game* “Actually, the game is labeled as $40, but—“

Customer: “You must have switched the games to show a higher price! I demand that—“

Me: “SIR! If you would look at the display, the game is showing up as $15! You are getting more of a discount than what you are asking for. If you are adamant about paying $20, then I would be happy to adjust the price. Do you want me to do that?”

(The man finally looks at the display. He goes quiet and his face goes red.)

Customer: *mumbling* “I’ll take the $15.”

(He was silent for the rest of the transaction, then snatched the bag and ran out.)