I was delivering for a local pizza store.
Customer: “I used to deliver for [Other Pizza Store] in [Other City], and I know how important tips are to drivers. You should work hard, and it will all be worth it at the end of the day.”
She proceeded to tip me eleven cents.
I live near a small local grocery store that is also close to a senior independent living facility. The store is too small to have an official online ordering/shopping system, but every once in a while I’ll see employees putting together orders for seniors, especially someone using a mobility aid who would have difficulty navigating the narrow aisles.
One particular day, I had almost finished my shopping and decided to treat myself to one of the store’s premade meals, which were kept in a cooler by the deli counter. I found a customer sitting on the cooler, blocking access to them, while he waited for an employee to shop his order.
Me: “Excuse me.”
The customer looked at me, sighed heavily, and shuffled an inch further away. Now I technically could reach the premade meals, if I leaned heavily into his personal space, but given that he was wearing a bandana underneath his nose instead of a properly worn and fitted mask, I decided it wasn’t worth it. I grabbed a different snack and headed to the cash register, just on the other side of the deli counter.
As the cashier was scanning my items, I heard the other employee return to help the seated customer.
Employee: “I’m sorry, sir, but it looks like we only have red cabbage at the moment, not green. Is that all right?”
Customer: “No, it’s not. Forget it.”
The cashier looked down at the next item she was about to scan: a green cabbage.
Cashier: *In an undertone* “Is this the last cabbage?”
Me: “Shhh.”
I got away with it!
I used to work in a tech service company where I grew to be the only designer on a team composed of many experienced developers. The Chief Technology Officer was especially on my back, since everything I did took too much time for his tastes and/or wasn’t something he thought we could sell to clients.
One time, I got to work for a client located in French Polynesia and was asked to design an administrative tool that would be open to public use. I pondered for a while about what design would be pleasing to the eye for people looking for land information on exotic islands. I finally decided to start a mock-up with the most vibrant, vacation-looking colors I could get, and proceeded to get feedback from the team.
Me: “I used different images here and here to give a feeling of looking at a beach when this window and this one are opened.”
Team Member #1: “Yeah! Nice colors! I really like the different tints of blue.”
Team Member #2: “It is more green than blue, though, isn’t it?”
CTO: “What are you all babbling about? It’s ugly, it’s dull, and he spent too much time doing it. Looking at a beach… Pfwah!”
Team Member #1: “Dull?! No way!”
CTO: “Meh, yes, kind of way.”
As the team started debating about colour preferences, I was thinking about what the CTO said. I was used to his harsh remarks, but “dull”? And suddenly, it hit me.
I speed-Googled for an Ishihara test and showed the first result to the CTO.
CTO: “Why are you showing me this stupid thing? I could never see anything in these optical illusions.”
Me: “Well, chief, you might want to try a few other ones, but this is not an optical trick. These are part of a test to detect if you are color blind. Did they not test you when you were a kid?”
As it turns out, no, he had not been tested, and yes, he was awfully color blind. We all spent the rest of the day exchanging Ishihara pictures, and in a team of eighty people, there were eight who were color blind to different degrees and didn’t know about it.
Glad to be of help!
While I was working, a customer tried to hand me a religious pamphlet of some kind. I was hesitant.
Coworker: “You should take it; it’ll make him happy.”
The guy had the blankest look on his face, and this weird fake smile; it was super creepy, like a ventriloquist puppet.
Me: “All right, but I bet it’s full of hate.”
I took the pamphlet, opened it up, and critiqued it right there. It was full of the usual, “If you don’t prescribe to our very specific sect, you’re going to Hell, even if you believe in God,” stuff, and there was the classic list of things that would get you sent to Hell.
Me: “Oh, look! There are several ways this church thinks I’m evil, and there are the ones where they think you’re evil. I told you, nothing but hate.”
I ripped the pamphlet up in front of the man’s eyes, and that creepy expression never left his face.
That’s why I don’t usually interact with people pushing pamphlets on me: it’s not going to be a pleasant experience for either of us. Why make two bad days when I can just walk away?
I work in a small, very typical English country pub. I’ve worked in service for over a decade and I’ve seen A LOT, but this was one of the more surreal. We had a party of thirty booked at lunchtime. This took up our entire restaurant. They were seated at three large tables; this is the only way for us to accommodate such a large booking, and it also makes them easier to serve as we serve by table.
This party had pre-ordered. Most people were having a roast dinner, and a few had dietary restrictions. We identified the people with the dietary requirements and away we went. The first table was served and they were very happy. The second table was served, and again, they were very happy. The third table, I ask:
Me: “Is everything all right with the food?”
One guy piped up:
Customer: “It’s like shoe leather.”
It took me a second to register this.
Me: “Is there an issue with your food?”
Customer: *Loudly* “It’s drier than the Sahara desert.”
No one else on the table had an issue or said anything negative. I apologised, took the offending plate away, and offered an alternative which was rudely dismissed. We did not remove his meal from the bill; he was rude, he was offered an alternative and turned it down, and out of thirty people — twenty-two of whom had the same meal as he did — he was the only person to complain.
The two women who split the bill were very happy. They never said a word about this guy having a bad meal. In fact, they said the food was great and left a decent tip. End of, right? Nope.
At 7:00 pm, the phone rang.
Customer: “I don’t know who paid the bill, but I want a refund! I want all my money back. The food was awful!”
He ranted on and on. When his request to get a refund on a bill he didn’t even pay was declined, he threatened us with being shut down by Environmental Health as the spare toilet roll in the gents was dusty. Funnily enough, we didn’t get shut down and he didn’t get his refund.
