I work in a deli where we make an assortment of food. We have screens to tell us how people want it made. We also have a screen to let us know what has been paid for and still needs payment. There is a policy that we have signs up for basically saying you need to pay first.

Toward the beginning of our shift, we started getting busy and hit with orders. We took orders for two ladies.

Me: *In a cheerful customer service tone* “If you’re waiting on food, please head up under the big sign up front to pay and your food should be up shortly.”

They looked, and I thought they heard me. They walked away a bit to go stand and talk and wait. We didn’t even see them standing there until we handed out the next order.

At least ten more orders went out, and I repeated my line between every. Single. Order. I made it sound like a general announcement to everyone around us, so I didn’t get turned on for calling them out. They were standing close enough to hear for their order number but ignored the announcement every. Single. Time.

After the tenth order was called, one of the ladies went off.

Lady #1: “Where is our food?! Order sixty-six and seventy-one?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, if you just go up under that sign and pay, your food will be right out.”

Lady #1: “I don’t want to go up there. I want my food first!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but due to policy—”

Lady #1: “I don’t care about that. I want my food!”

My manager had been making orders with me and heard every announcement.

Manager: “Ma’am, we can’t give out food until it’s paid for.”

Lady #2: “We can just go pay for it first so we can get it.”

Lady #1: “I don’t want to! I come here all the time!”

First off, no one cares, because we are in that building more than you will ever be; that doesn’t mean we can change policy. My manager tried to explain again, and this is where I started to laugh.

Lady #1: “I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

Manager: “I am the manager.”

Lady #1: “Whatever. Who cares?”

She was clearly still angry, but her friend eventually persuaded her up front.

Then, she came back.

Lady #1: “There should be signs up if you’re going to change your policies!”

Me: “We do have signs up. And I made several announcements, as well.”

Lady #1: “I’m not arguing with a child!”

I’m in my mid-twenties and normally have people overshoot my age. How nice of her, right?

Me: “Have a great night!”

Lady #1: *Sarcastically* “You, too.”

Me: “And have a safe trip!”

Lady #1: *Super angry* “You have a super nice night!”

Those two ladies are regulars, so I’m sure they will be back, but they know they have to pay first.

I’m working a busy weekend where several customers are complaining that a sale isn’t ringing up. I go to investigate and turns out they are right; there’s an ongoing sale sign right there.

I talk to my boss over a walker-talkie.

Me: “Yeah, there’s a sign here. Current, too. Maybe it’s the computer’s fault it’s not ringing up?”

Customer: “Excuse me…”

I’m in the middle of the aisle and caught up in what I’m doing. I assume he wants to get by.

Me: “Oh, sorry.”

I move out of the way. The customer passes me and stops.

Customer: “Are you always this rude?!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “You’ve been trained to help customers! But you looked me right in the eyes and you ignored me!”

Me: “Oh, did you need help? Sorry, I thought you were just trying to get by me—”

Customer: “I don’t care what you thought!” *Storms off*

Maybe I could’ve helped him if he had told me what he wanted!

I work at a really small mom-and-pop butcher shop in a trendy neighborhood. For health reasons, we have a few rules for people who want to do in-store shopping: namely, we limit the number of people in the store at any one time to five people, one person per party. A lot of times, people will come in with their spouses or significant other, and when we explain the one-person-per-party policy, they’re happy to have one of them wait outside while the other orders.

However, this doesn’t pertain to parents with young children, as, obviously, the kids need to stay with their parents.

We have a long line of people waiting to get in, and there are already five people in the shop. One person comes out, and a woman comes in with her boyfriend. 

Me: “Hi, ma’am. Just so you know, we have a one-person-per-party policy at the moment. If you want, you can take a minute to decide what you’re getting and then have one of you step outside?”

The lady, already indignant and angry, points to a mother shopping with her three-year-old daughter. 

Customer: “Well, what about them?!”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s a child.”

Customer: “That shouldn’t matter!”

I walked away and found another coworker to deal with her. I don’t get paid enough for that level of stupid.

[Friend] is super competitive; he’s not happy unless he’s winning — and preferably someone else is losing. It’s a bit annoying at times, especially when all he talks about is how much he’s won or how great he is. He never seems to remember all the times he’s lost, though.

I’ve joined his team for a pub quiz. I’m not much for general knowledge, but I know a lot about random facts.

The next question is read out.

Quiz Master: “In the Bible, who cut Samson’s hair?”

Friend: “Yes! I got it. It’s Delilah.”

Me: “It’s not. I know this one. It’s definitely not that.”

Friend: “It is; it’s famous. I’m writing it down.”

Me: “It was one of the servants, I’m telling you.”

Friend: “I’ve written it now.”

Much of the quiz is like this; he overrules everyone else. While he does get quite a few right, if he listened to us we would do a lot better.

At the very end, we come fourth and miss out on a prize.

Friend: “I can only get so many of these right on my own. You guys need to step your game up!”

We had the next quiz without him, and we came third!

I work at an office retailer, and part of our print services includes producing and cutting business cards. A lot of times, we have customers bring in designs for us to cut out, as creating a design costs a sizeable fee and at least twenty-four hours of production time.

This story follows the former. He had paid for the largest order of cards to be cut, providing a design he had created. No big problem there, until he returns a week later and throws the cards on the counter.

Customer: “You can take back these s***ty cards. My customers can’t read them. Why didn’t you tell me they were hard to read?”

Me: “Oh, that’s not good. Did we design these?”

Customer: “No, I designed them.”

I was confused as to why he was even mad at us. To design a business card, even a simple one, takes at least ten minutes, and you have to lay out every letter and detail. This customer watched it all come together before his very eyes on a computer monitor and ordered us to only make the cuts.

I thought his design was awful and hard to read, but seeing as how he designed it, I opted not to say anything since he wouldn’t make anything he wouldn’t approve of. And some creators can be fiercely defensive of what they create.

He must have known he was wrong though since he didn’t argue about paying for a whole other order of cuts PLUS a rebuild of a design we made for him months ago. Maybe he was thinking that by coming in and insulting his own design, he’d get a refund and a discount?