Me: “Thank you for calling. How may I help you?”

Guest: “Hi, yes, I’m calling because your hotel charged our credit card twice?”

Me: “Okay, ma’am. If I can have your name, I’ll look you up in the computer and we can get this straightened out.”

Guest: *morphs into an uber-witch in three seconds flat* “Straightened out? D*** right you’re going to get this straightened out! You charged enough for that crappy little room! I’ll be d***ed if we’re paying for it twice! My husband works too hard for his money to be charged double for something like this! There wasn’t even a bar there!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but if I can just have your name and the date you stayed–”

Guest: “That’s just it! I was charged on two separate DATES. My name is [Guest] and my husband and I stayed there on June 9th. There’s another charge on there for the 17th. I want this fixed!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’m looking now, ma’am… Okay, I see the problem. You did stay here on the 9th of June. I’m showing that someone by the name of [Husband] stayed on the 17th.”

(There’s dead silence for a moment, and then whispering.)

Guest: “What?”

(At this point my stomach falls into my shoes, because I can hear her mind ticking away, and I know something she doesn’t: another name is listed on the screen with her husband’s for the June 17th stay, and it’s NOT HERS.)

Me: “Um… ma’am?”

Guest: “I see. You’ve been very helpful.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Can I help you with anything else today?”

(At this moment the woman drops the phone but does not hang up, and I hear her begin to scream at someone, swearing in combos I never would have thought up. I hang up quickly and try to go about my business, making a note of it to tell my boss. Later I get another phone call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling. How–”

Guest’s Husband: “I want to talk to your manager, you stupid little b****! You probably just cost me my marriage and I am going to sue your s***-hole hotel for every penny it’s worth! Do you hear me? Do you?!”

Me: *click*

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(A customer had a complaint about his food. He refused to let the woman working the register help him.)

Man: “I want to talk to a manager.”

Female Employee: “Yes, sir.”

(The employee gets a shift manager to help her.)

Shift Manager: “Can I help you, sir?”

Man: “No, I want a manager!”

Shift Manager: “I am a shift manager, sir.”

Man: “I want to see the store manager!”

Shift Manager: “Uhm, okay, sir, I’ll be right back.”

(I was in the office working on the crew schedules for the next week. Shift Manager comes in and asks me to deal with the customer. She didn’t need to explain. I’d heard it all… He was very loud. I went to help deal with the situation.)

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Man: “I want to see a f****** God-d*** manager! Where’s the f****** store manager?”

Me: “I am the store manager, Sir.”

Man: “I want to speak to a male manager!”

Me: “Sir, all of my shift managers are female. As, clearly, am I.”

(Actually, every person working that day was female.)

Man: “I demand to speak to your d*** f***ing boss!”

Me: “I can get you a number so you can call my district manager, sir. Will that be okay?”

Man: “Finally! DO IT NOW!”

Me: “Yes, sir. Just a second.”

(I go into my office and grab one of the district manager’s cards.)

Me: “Here you are, sir. If you give HER a call, I’m sure SHE will be happy to help you.”

(I thought he was going to have a heart attack after that. Purple was definitely not his color.)

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Me: “Here’s your lemonade, sir, what can I get you to eat?”

Customer: “I’ll have a bowl of chili.”

(I walk to the back of the restaurant get bowl of chili and take it to him. This takes all of one minute.)

Customer: *angrily* “That took far too long. Did you socialize with the other hussies that work here on your way?”

Me: “No, sir. That’s how long it takes to walk back and get the chili.”

Customer: “I’m not paying for any of this.”

(He then gets up to storm out the front door but instead runs into the door that has the “Use Other Door” sign on it. The “hussies” and I didn’t stop laughing for a while.)

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Me: “Okay, sir, so I would just need you to verify your information and sign here–”

(The patient cuts me off, snatches the clipboard, and gives me this I’m-not-stupid look.)

Patient: “Listen, I don’t need you to tell me what to do. I’m a lawyer and I know how the system works!”

(He sits down and starts looking over the paperwork. Five minutes later…)

Patient: “Ma’am, where did you need me to sign?”

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