One hot summer, many years ago, my wife, five small children, and I were living in a small rental home that had no air conditioning. To make matters worse, all the bedrooms were on the second floor where it was even hotter. Temperatures were in the high nineties and above, and it didn’t cool down much at night. We opened all the windows and ran fans to make it nights bearable.

The house was on the main street in our small town and right next to the parking lot for a park. The house’s yard was surrounded by a chest-high concrete fence. On weekend nights, the teenagers and twenty-somethings would “drag Main”, driving up and down Main Street honking and calling to each other, and they would often congregate in that parking lot next to our home. And they weren’t particularly quiet as they talked loudly and gunned their engines.

One unbearably hot weekend night, it was 1:00 am and my wife and I were trying to sleep. Suddenly, the noises of the main draggers reached a crescendo pitch. My wife had had enough. Ignoring my advice to let it be, she marched down the stairs, out the front door, and across the lawn to the concrete fence next to the parking lot, wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. She slammed her hands on the fence and yelled at the ten or so young people congregated there. This is basically what she said.

Wife: “Hey! I have had it! You are making too much noise, and if you wake up my baby, I will grab you by the ears, pull you into my house, and make you put that baby to sleep! Now be quiet!”

Without waiting for a reply, she marched back into the house, slamming the front door behind her. I peeked out a few minutes later and the parking lot was deserted. We never saw the main draggers again for the rest of the time that we lived there.

I work at a busy breakfast spot, and it’s a go-go-go-type place where food can hit the table in minutes, and checks are dropped before plates are cleared. The owners specifically don’t have Wi-Fi to discourage lounging. Of course, that doesn’t stop some people from exploiting unlimited coffee refills and hanging out for hours.

Enter one such curmudgeon we’ll call “Bernard”. He dresses like he’s homeless and carries around shopping bags — we have even had other tables offer to pay for his meal out of pity — but I’ve seen him pull out wads of cash with reams of $100 bills. He comes in every day, always pays with exact change, and will sit nursing the same cup of joe for three to four hours.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he minded his business or read a book, but he’ll sit there and make noises to get attention any time an employee walks by to top off his coffee if the cup ever dips below 80%. Like, mate, you can take a third sip without gesticulating wildly every few minutes, and nothing will be lost.

All the other employees have burned out on him over the years, but I’m new and fresh, so it’s natural for me to connect. He’s played Twenty Questions with me about my life, ambitions, family, background, etc. However, he’s incredibly guarded when it comes to responding in kind. I imagine I must be the only one giving him any real attention.

As the health crisis has receded, we’ve gotten busier, so there are way more distractions. I notice that Bernard has stopped tipping (even his paltry 10% was at least something). He’ll ask for exact change back and immediately pocket it. (And then he’ll still sit for a couple of hours.) After a few days of this, I decide to poke the carcass with a stick.

I tap on his empty checkbook.

Me: “Did you need change, Bernard?”

Bernard: *Caught by surprise* “Huh?!”

Me: “Are you gonna leave us a tip today?”

His face scrunches.

Bernard: “Uhhh, of course!”

He seems pretty frazzled, so I walk away, again expecting nothing.

I’m making my rounds when he beckons me over with a finger waggle. He lays $2 out and starts tapping the table.

Bernard: “Do you know what ‘tip’ stands for? T-I-P. To Insure Promptness!”

I stared at him dead and just shook my head.

And that’s how this stodgy old jerk lost his only remaining ally.

I have been working at my big-box store for three years and am considered a very reliable and integral part of my team. The other night, I received my first ever complaint from a customer to the manager for reasons I am not sure of.

I am training a new team member and we are going through and straightening the baby aisle.

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yes. Can I help you find something?”

Customer: “Does this baby swing vibrate?”

Me: “Um… well… I am not sure about the product details, but the box might say if it does. Let me see.”

I read the box.

Me: “No, I don’t think this one does; I don’t see anything saying anything about vibration.”

Customer: “Okay, do you have this one in stock? I don’t see it out.”

She points to a baby swing next to the non-vibrating one.

Me: “Let me run and grab my PDA, and I can see if we have it in the back.”

I get the PDA, return to the customer, and scan the display bar code. It says we have one on the floor.

Me: “It says we have one out. Let me check around and see if it’s in the wrong spot.”

I look around and find the item.

Me: “Here it is! This is the one.”

The customer is on her phone and paying no attention.

Me: “Do you want me to go ahead and put it in the cart?”

Customer: *Playing on her phone* “No, I need to see if the other one vibrates.”

Me: “Well, I don’t think that one does… but I’ll go ahead and set this one here for you when you’re ready.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “No, you’ve done enough.”

I left and continued training the new team member. I was pulled aside by the manager later, who told me the guest said she was “so disappointed” with my guest service and that I “wasn’t very helpful” and “didn’t seem like I wanted to help.”

WHAT?

I’m a cashier for my dad’s business. A customer is trying to cut in front of a line of about eight other people.

Me: “Are you in line?”

Customer: “No, I’m just moving my items around.”

Me: “Whenever you’re ready, just move over there.”

I point at the end of the line. She rummages around in her cart for another two minutes and then comes up to me.

Customer: “I’m ready.”

Me: “I’m sorry, miss, but these people are in line.”

Customer: “What did you say to me?! I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! I want to see your manager!”

I look over and just say:

Me: “Hey, Dad, this woman wants to speak to you.”

Dad: “If you get to the back of the line, you’ll be out of here within a couple of minutes.”

As she starts walking to the back of the line, he quips:

Dad: “Just like they taught you in kindergarten.”

Related:
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 22
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 21
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 20
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 19
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 18

I had just seen my partner off at the railway station. I was at the station entrance, just waiting to be picked up. I looked nothing like an employee. I was wearing a purple sweater and a purple backpack, and I was carrying shopping bags. I also had a green sunflower lanyard that — here in the UK, at least — people with invisible disabilities wear to alert staff that we’re disabled.

I was just browsing my phone. A rather irritated guy was walking around, and then he looked at me.

Guy: “Do you work here?”

Me: “No, sorry, I don’t.”

He pointed to a security guard in the distance.

Guy: “Do they work here?”

Me: “I’m not sure.”

I mean, I didn’t know whether they were by the station or employed by someone else to cover the station.

Guy: “I need to get a ticket!”

Me: “Oh, there’s a ticket machine over there. You can use that to buy a ticket!”

Guy: “I tried that, but it’s not working!”

And then I went back to my phone, thinking this was over. About thirty seconds later, I saw the jerk pointing his phone at me and, bizarrely, recording my disability lanyard.

Guy: “I’m recording this!”

Me: “What?”

Guy: “I’m recording this! You can’t be bothered to help get me a ticket!”

Me: “I just said I don’t work here!”

The guy turned to the security guard who had gotten closer.

Guy: “Where can I get a ticket? That machine’s broken!”

The security guard said something. I couldn’t really process what they said as I was too dumbfounded processing what was going on. I assume they said they couldn’t help him?

Guy: “You guys can’t be bothered! He—” *points at me* “—can’t be bothered!”

Me: “I can’t help you! I DON’T WORK HERE!”

And then the jerk started walking toward the ticket area, rambling about not being able to get his ticket. I don’t know what happened, but he did attract a crowd, and then the security guard had to stop him from whatever he was doing. Did he not know he could just buy a ticket from his phone?

That said, I wish he had uploaded the video. I would’ve loved to have a link to the altercation.