(I have just finished serving a mother, but her daughter has dropped her juice so I have to mop up the spill. As part of our goodwill policy for spills, I also give the little girl another juice on the house. I then began serving the next customer.)

Next Customer: “You shouldn’t have given her a free juice. It’s her own fault for being clumsy!”

Me: “Well, it’s part of our goodwill policy. Accidents do happen, you know.”

Next Customer: “Well, children shouldn’t be in a place like this in the first place. People should take responsibility for their actions!”

(The customer takes her coffee, and as she approaches her seat she trips over her own feet and tosses her mug across the table. She splashes coffee everywhere: on the wall, on the floor, and all over the table and chairs.)

Next Customer: *sheepishly* “I spilled my coffee. Can you make me another one to take away, please?”

(I am a customer at a local theme park, but I know many of the employees. A friend of mine is working concessions near the front gate, so my brother and I stop to say hi. My friend is a very flamboyant and, at times, undisciplined character, but he’s usually harmless.)

Employee: “I almost got fired this morning.”

Me: “Why?”

Employee: “I threw cheese on a customer.”

Me: “Why would you do that?!”

Employee: “This woman comes up to me for a drink and she’s like, real mad, and she throws her drink on me! So, I’m like, ‘Would you like your cheese?’ and I throw the nacho cheese on her.”

Me: “Good Lord!”

Employee: “So, they called us both down to the office and asked what we were thinking, and I said, ‘She threw her drink on me, and I don’t take crap like that, so I threw the cheese on her.’ And we both looked at each other and just said, ‘I’m sorry.’ So, I got a new uniform and it was just nonsense.”

My Brother: *points at the nachos* “Just remind me not to stand near you with that!”

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(I work at a dog park, and I get to bring my Great Dane to work with me. Most of my regulars know and love my dog, and he has his own little fan club. My Dane is an obedience champion and has a vast vocabulary of verbal and hand signal commands, including “shake”. However, because of his height, if someone asks him to “shake”, they usually get smacked for their troubles. An unpleasant new visitor to the park begins making disparaging comments.)

New Visitor: *to me* “Border Collies are a real man’s dog. If you aren’t smart enough for a collie, you get something like that!” *points at my dog*

Me: “Excuse me, but that’s incredibly rude.”

New Visitor: “See? What did I tell you? Only a stupid woman would own a stupid dog like that!”

Regular #1: “Actually, that dog is brilliant.”

New Visitor: “Whatever. I bet he doesn’t even know how to shake hands.”

Regular #2: *smiles* “Oh, please try…”

New Visitor: *to my Great Dane* “Shake!”

My Great Dane: *smacks him in the crotch*

(I am working in a post office inside a mall. I am in a rather secluded part of the store and usually only one or two customers are here at a time. This is my first night alone, and I have just learned this particular transaction about two hours earlier with my manager. The first meeting occurs with my manager there as a witness.)

Customer #1: “I’d like to do a change of address, please.”

Me: “Sure. I just need two pieces of photo ID and something showing your old address. It could be your driver’s license or a bill.”

Customer #1: “I don’t carry ID with me. I don’t want to get mugged. I took the bus here just to do this. Can’t you do it anyway?”

(Unfortunately, there is no way to do this. If I don’t write the information down on the form, it will be rejected and the customer’s money will not be refunded. I explain this to her several times, and mention TWO pieces of ID repeatedly. I also write this down on a note and hand it to her. She leaves, upset, and tells me she’ll be back later. Work continues as normal, until I see the same customer come back in the store two hours later. This is after my manager has left me alone for the night.)

Me: “Hi there! So, you brought your ID?”

Customer #1: *grumbles* “Yes. I can’t BELIEVE you made me bus it home and all the way back here for ONE STUPID CARD.”

(At this point, I know she’s going to get even angrier. She’s only got one piece of ID, and I still can’t do the transaction.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need two pieces of ID.”

Customer #1: “Are you f***ing joking?! ALL THE WAY HOME AND YOU STILL WON’T DO IT?!”

Me: “I asked you for two pieces of ID, ma’am, several times. I even sent a note with you.”

Customer #1: “YOU EXPECT ME TO READ A NOTE? ARE YOU STUPID? YOU HAVE ONE PIECE! THAT’S ENOUGH! JUST DO THE F***ING FORM!”

(The customer is fuming, and there are other people in line behind her. I call my manager, who immediately remembers the customer and tells me to “just do the transaction anyways and she can lose her $40 if she wants to”, but by this time the woman is screeching while I’m on the phone.)

Customer #1: “YOU ARE REFUSING ME SERVICE BECAUSE YOU’RE A RACIST, AREN’T YOU?! YOU F***ING RACIST!”

(Suddenly, she vaults herself over the counter and grabs the nearest object—thankfully just a roll of kraft paper—and starts whacking me with it. Security happens to be passing by and they tackle the woman to the ground, kraft paper in hand, still screeching about my “racism” and “ignorance”. I go back to helping the customers that have been waiting.)

Customer #2: “My god, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen! What the h*** did you do to her?!”

Me: “Long story…I just needed more ID and she didn’t have it. What can I help you with?”

Customer #2: “Oh, a change of address. But I only have one piece of ID…” *gets a sheepish look on his face* “You just spent the whole time I was in line explaining that you need two pieces of ID for this form, didn’t you?”

Me: “Oh, um, yes… so, you know that I can’t do it then?”

Customer #2: “Yeah, I just hoped for some hair pulling.” *slinks away*

Customer #3: *grinning* “I have two pieces of ID, and I just want to mail this.”

Me: “I’m so sorry you had to witness that, sir. You could use the drop box beside the desk next time. It’s right over there.”

Customer #3: “Oh, I know. But I’m an officer and I wanted to witness that woman in case things went south.”

(It turns out he really was an officer! He had the woman charged with assault and petty theft for taking the roll of kraft paper.)

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(I’m checking out a sleazy-looking customer. He’s buying a gallon of milk. To not waste bags, we’re supposed to ask if people want their milk in a bag or if they’ll just carry it as is.)

Me: “You want your milk in a bag?”

Sleazy Customer: “Heh, heh. No, but I’ll take the milk in your bags. You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?”

Me: “Oh yeah. He works here. One minute…” *over the intercom* “Greg to the front please, Greg.”

(Greg isn’t my boyfriend, but Greg is one of our stock persons. Greg is about six feet tall and has been training for the Marines, so he’s completely ripped.)

Sleazy Customer: *staring at my chest* “I bet he’s a real pansy. I could be a big man for you, sweetheart.”

(I quietly take the customer’s money and give him back his change. Greg shows up to the front.)

Greg: *to me* “What do you need?”

Me: “Hey baby, this guy wanted to meet my boyfriend. He keeps talking about my…milk bags?”

(The customer stares bug-eyed at Greg. Greg, for his part, doesn’t even miss a beat. He just leans toward the customer.)

Greg: “Sir, the last man who sexually harassed my girl? I ripped him apart with my bare hands.”

Sleazy Customer: *turns and runs out of the store*

Me: *to the sleazy customer* “YOU FORGOT YOUR JUG OF MILK!”