After some years, upper management is gradually transitioning me into a shift manager by granting me new tasks and responsibilities. One such privilege is being allowed to grant refunds, do discount overrides at the registers, and correct orders.

On a busy evening, I notice a woman in her early twenties standing to the side with an angry expression, looking like she is waiting to speak to someone. I approach her.

Me: “Did you need help?”

Customer: “F*** you.”

I walk away.

Customer: “You aren’t the person I ordered with. I don’t need your help.”

A few minutes later, the cashier that took her order appears and asks what’s wrong.

Customer: “I just now noticed this sign over there that says I can get this for [special], but you charged me the full price!”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry! He can give you the discount and refund you the difference.” *Points to me*

She turns the color of a stop sign while slowly walking over to me.

Customer: “Um… hi…”

Me: “No, no, no… I asked you if you needed help, and what was your answer?”

Customer: “I didn’t know you were the manager or whatever in charge. But can you—”

Me: “Ma’am? Listen to the question. I asked you if you needed help, and what was your exact response? Quote it.”

Customer: *Pauses* “F*** you.”

Me: “There you go. Next in line, please!”

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My dad is a Boomer, born in 1946, but is a very progressive, open-minded person — probably because Nana would’ve smacked the stupid out of him, otherwise. His only Boomer-mentality sticking point is the “Just get a better job!” argument. My older sister and I have tried to explain that it’s just not as easy now as it was when he was our age, with little success.

Not too long ago, we were having a discussion about the topic, and my patience finally wore out as I was trying to explain how different his time versus ours is after hearing for the umpteenth time that he put himself through college making pizzas.

Dad: “All I’m saying is, back in my day—”

Me: *Exploding in frustration* “Back in your day, cough syrup was literally whiskey with opium, and soda had cocaine in it, you dinosaur!”

Dad: *Blinking in surprise* “I’ve got no response to that.”

Me: “Well, good!” *Turns and leaves*

Fortunately, though not necessarily as a result of this discussion, Dad’s finally come around to understand our point of view!

I’ve worked for a woodworking company since I was eighteen. Across from my company is a [Coffee Shop], and every morning and lunch I go there to eat. It’s also where a lot of my friends work.

It’s right at the height of the health crisis, my company is closed, and I’m stuck on a schedule: wake up, go to [Coffee Shop], eat, and that would be the time I would go to work. Now, I just chill at [Coffee Shop] and help out since they were my first job when I was sixteen. This goes on for a week.

I’m exhausted from working at [Coffee Shop]. It’s very different from woodworking; I forgot about that. I’m meditating in one of the lounge chairs they have in the lobby. Then, a woman walks in, places her order, and comes over to me.

Woman: “You can’t be sleeping here. You have to go.”

I am already out of f***s at this point.

Me: “Who are you?”

Woman: “Just get out of the store.”

Me: “No, I don’t have to.”

Woman: “Homeless people aren’t allowed in the store.”

Me: “First—

Woman: “You vagrant! I’m sleeping with the owner. I can call the police and have you removed!”

Me: “Go for it.”

The woman called the police and then told them I’d attacked her. The police came, and before anyone could say anything, my best friend — who is also the owner and loves to be a jerk when presented with the chance — told the police, loudly enough that everyone in the store could hear him, that he thought that the woman was prostituting herself around the [Coffee Shop] property. The woman went white as the police started questioning her. I thought that was it.

It wasn’t.

The woman had a warrant out for her arrest for identity theft, and when they searched her, they found several cards and IDs with other people’s names on them. It was perfect.

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I once had a guy come into the workshop I was in.

Guy: “I’m looking for batteries for my boom box.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry those.”

He refused to believe us. Eventually, he declared:

Guy: “I don’t have any more time to waste on you people being stupid!”

And he left.

Shortly after that, I noticed a basket that we kept on a workbench near the door, that was filled with loose, potentially undischarged capacitors, was missing.

I couldn’t prove he stole it, and the capacitor terminals didn’t line up with battery compartment terminals, but some of those capacitors were about the size and shape of C- and D-cell batteries.

To this day, I get a chuckle every time I think about what would happen to an electronic device if he’d managed to jury-rig a “fix” to make them fit.

I’m a former car insurance agent. I once had someone screaming at me that if we didn’t do what he wanted, then he would cancel his policy. What he wanted was illegal, so it wasn’t happening no matter who he complained to. After he was repeatedly denied, he kept telling us to cancel his policy.

Me: “You should really get new insurance first; our state has mandatory insurance requirements on active registration.”

Customer: “Cancel it anyway, RIGHT NOW!”

So, I did.

A couple of days later, he called back, VERY pissed.

Customer: “I couldn’t find new insurance, and now my driver’s license is suspended, I have a court appearance, and I’m suspended from my job!”

He was caught driving without valid insurance, so on top of the normal issues of no insurance on active registration, so he now has a very expensive ticket, too. His job also required a valid license, so he couldn’t work until everything was resolved. I warned him, but he didn’t listen.

I’m not commissioned, so when I tell you something, try listening; I’m just trying to help you and advise you about the law.