I’m working at a restaurant, serving a family. The husband orders for himself.

Husband: “I’ll have the lasagne, but can I have the lasagne swapped for the cod and then add a side of fries?”

Me: “Oh, we have cod and chips. I can swap the thick-cut chips for fries for you.”

Husband: “I can see that, but it has peas.”

Me: “We can hold the peas, and actually, the fish and chips are cheaper than the lasagne, so you’ll be saving yourse—”

Husband: “Just put it through as I ordered it.”

Me: “If you’re sure?”

Wife: “I think the young man is right abo—”

Husband: “I wouldn’t order it if I wasn’t sure. Just swap it. It’s not hard, is it?”

Me: “Not at all. I’ll put that through for you.”

That might be the oddest order I’ve ever taken, just for how silly it was. The chefs had a good laugh, as well. In the end, it didn’t matter on our end — it worked out to be more money for no extra work. But it was such a weird request.

Screw you, random rude guy from five years ago. I still laugh at the fact that you spent an extra £7 quid for being arrogant.

My parents separated when I was in my early teens, and for some years, it was ugly between them. While my mom made sure that I still had a relationship with my dad, I was extremely angry about what he did to my mom and tried to avoid being around him too much, especially because he kept trying to bad-talk Mom to me.

One day, he turns to me and starts to complain.

Dad: “Your mom was crazy, honey. She would scream at me for no reason.”

Me: “Mhm.”

Dad: “I would get home and she would make up all sorts of accusations.”

Me: “Okay.”

Dad: “I never said anything back. I don’t know why she would treat me like that. She is crazy, I’m telling you.”

I got fed up, and for the first time, I decided to stand up to him.

Me: “Please stop. This is all a lie.”

Dad: “What are you talking about? Did she poison you against me already?!”

Me: *Quietly* “This speech of yours might work with my brothers, Dad… but did you forget my bedroom shares a wall with the kitchen? All the times you two went to argue there instead of your bedroom to not wake us up, well, I woke up for them. I heard it all. I know what happened. Stop talking bad things about Mom to me, because if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even come to have lunch with you anymore.”

Surprisingly, it worked. He looked ashamed like I had never seen him before — or since — and stopped talking. He only started to trash-talk Mom to me one more time, but then he saw the look on my face and got quiet.

I work in a small store that’s run by the owner. There is no corporate, we’re not part of a chain, and the owner has been out of f***s for the past thirty years.

A wild customer appears!

Customer: “I’d like to buy these.”

He places about twenty of a specific item on the counter.

Me: “Excellent! Let me just ring you through.”

I start to scan the items.

Customer: “Do I get a discount for buying in bulk?”

That’s a fair question and one that’s beyond my paygrade.

Me: “Let me ask.”

I gesture for [Owner] to come over.

Me: “[Owner], this customer wants to know if he can get a bulk buying discount.”

The owner eyes up how many things the customer is buying.

Owner: “Sure. We can do ten percent off.”

The customer suddenly becomes enraged.

Customer: “Ten measly percent? For this much stuff? That should be twenty-five percent off, minimum!”

Owner: “I’m not going to take a loss on the sale.”

Customer: “You should be more flexible!”

Owner: “I’m in business to make a profit. Ten percent is the max I can offer you.”

Customer: “This is horrible customer service!”

Owner: “What part of no are you not understanding? The N or the O?”

The customer shuts up, takes his ten percent bulk discount, pays, and leaves.

Owner: “I love being the boss.”

Related:
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 20
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 19
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 18
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 17
Getting Owned By The Owner, Part 16

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Jim Smith.”

Me: “One moment, please.” *Transferring*

Two minutes later, the phone rings again and I give the standard greeting.

Customer: *Annoyed* “Jim Smith.”

Me: “Please hold.” *Transferring*

Two minutes later, the phone rings again.

Customer: “JIM SMITH!”

Me: *Confused transferring*

This time, I transfer and then make a quick jog to Jim Smith’s office to make sure the calls are going through. He’s in a meeting with someone, but I see the light on his desk phone blinking, clearly indicating that his voicemail is indeed picking it up. I shrug and return to my station.

And the phone rings again…

Customer: “What the h*** is going on?! I want to speak to Jim Smith! Why do you keep giving me his voicemail?!”

Me: “If he’s not available to take any calls, it will go to his voicemail. Leave a message, and he’ll call you back.”

Customer: “Well, why didn’t you tell me that before?!”

Me: “…because that’s the way all phone lines function? If someone is busy and can’t talk, they’ll set the phone to silent and have the voicemail pick up?”

Customer: *Slams the phone down*

Not sure what kinds of businesses he’s been calling where someone is available in their office 100% of the time…

I’m in a sports bar, and playing on one of the screens is a show called “Toughman Contest.” The premise is novice amateur boxers competing against each to test their skills.

One of the contestants is a Black man in magnificent physical shape with amazing brute strength, plowing his opponents over like a tank and scoring knockouts in the first minute. It’s amazing that boxing promoters aren’t beating this guy’s door down!

A trio of guys is standing next to me, watching as well. One of them speaks up.

Guy: “Bulls***! Put the [racist slur] up against an in-shape and well-trained white guy and let’s see how long he’d last! Guarantee you, it’d be over by the second round!”

Me: “How about you step in the ring with him, call him that to his face, and see how long you’d last?!”

Other Patron: *Chiming in* “Guarantee you, it’d be over by the second punch!“

Other patrons glared at the guy. It quickly became obvious that they’d just made a frosty environment for themselves; they took the cue to quietly slink over to a table in the back and shut up for the rest of the time they were there.