It’s the very last shift of my two-week notice from a pizza shop. The owner of the shop is a family friend whom I’ve known my entire life. He’s often called me “the son he never had”, so you could say I could get away with a lot. However, I’ve been nothing but an exemplary employee since day one.

We have a customer who is best described as difficult. He loves to call at the last minute to place an order for delivery. Due to being understaffed, for the last two hours, we only have one employee, so we stop doing deliveries and have pick-up only.

He’ll say his order and address and then hang up. When we don’t show up within five minutes (he’s a twenty-minute drive from us), he’ll call back and shout through the phone. He’ll demand a free pizza to be delivered the next morning. The owner is, sadly, a bit of a pushover and always caves in.

I’ve just finished cleaning and closing everything up a bit early. It’s my last thirty minutes, and I have zero f***s left to give. Then, the phone rings…

Me: “Hello, this is [Pizza Place]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I’d like a large Hawaiian, stuffed crust, delivered to [address].”

Me: “Sir, as we have told you many times, we do not deliver after—”

Caller: *Click*

I hang up the phone slowly and stare at it with eyes full of fire. I feel like I don’t even blink. I only count the seconds leading up to five minutes. Of course, at five minutes on the f****** dot, the burdening chime of the ringtone starts up. I pick it up slowly. My hands shake as my soul prepares to check out. I don’t even say my opening greeting.

Caller: “I ordered a pizza from you half an hour ago! You people are always late! I don’t know why I even waste my time with you! I demand a free pizza delivered to me tomorrow at 8:00 am!”

Something snaps in my brain. I can feel a personality that I buried deep down finally claw its way out. A psychotic grin forms on my face as I hold the phone to my ear.

Me: “Nope.” *Click*

I hang up and continue my evil grin, staring at nothing. The phone rings not even thirty seconds later.

Caller: “Did you just f****** hang up on me?!”

Me: “Yep.” *Click*

I lean against the counter and light up a mental cigarette, so to speak. I start to eat a pizza I made myself for dinner. The phone rings again on cue after my first bite. 

Me: *Chewing food loudly* “Whatchu want?”

Caller: “Are you f****** kidding me?! How dare you?! I’m going to file a complaint and have your dumb a*** fired!”

I channel Walter White with a crotch grab.

Me: “How about you go ahead and file my BALLS, TOO!” *Click*

I start shadowboxing in place. The phone rings again, which I ignore. I sit down and enjoy my pizza for the remainder of my shift. His calls are coming in nonstop. Naturally, I ignore them all. Finally, at the very last minute, as I’m walking out, I answer.

Me: “Eat a d**k, [Customer].” *Click*

The next day, I get a call from the owner.

Owner: “So, I received a troubling complaint this morning. Did you by chance take a call from [Customer]?”

Me: “Nope.”

Owner: *Short pause* “Well, good enough for me! I wish you all the best in the future, and there’s always a job here waiting for you if you need it!” *Click*

I do not condone my behavior as an employee — unless you are absolutely sure you will one hundred percent get away with it!

I work in a hotel. A woman calls me on the phone asking about our rooms and the suites. She sounds interested in the suite and says she will be in shortly.

A couple of hours go by, and she comes in to get the room. Immediately, I smell a big whiff of marijuana on her, in our 100% non-smoking hotel. Red flag #1. She verifies the rates again and decides to just get the regular room instead.

Once I give her the rate, she begins pulling out cash. Red flag #2.

When I ask for her ID, it is a local from a few minutes away. Red flag #3.

Her ID is also just a state ID, not a driver’s license. Red flag #4.

She then pulls out a Cash App card for the deposit. Red flag #5.

The Cash App card declines, and she says it’s because it’s a child’s cash card, and all of her cards are locked. Red flag #6.

She then asks if she goes and buys a prepaid card, can it be used as a deposit? I haven’t been told any rules against this, but I’ve also never seen any guests do it. So, I’m gonna call this red flag #7.

She then doubles back and asks if I can type in her “sister’s” card manually. I say no, I need the physical card. Red flag #7.5. I only give this half of a red flag because I technically could go through the credit card authorization form process, but I am already tired of this person and don’t want to waste my time.

I’m now sitting waiting for her to come back with her prepaid card. It really feels against the rules. It’s essentially the same as paying a cash deposit — which is against the rules — but my managers never told me no. Maybe they will after this time.

I’m also putting her on the first floor to discourage any crazy activities.

While I was writing this story, the woman came back, got her cash, and said she couldn’t get a prepaid card or something, so they’ll probably just try a different hotel. Red flag #8!

That’s eight (and a half) red flags in one check-in! Thankfully, she just left. What a possible headache.

I work in a hotel, and tonight, gentle readers, we shall discuss guests who are incapable of accepting reality, logic, or even a simple “No”. So, regular guests, y’know?

The night in question is unfolding as many such nights have — uneventful for the most part, but with just a few nuisances to deal with. A recalcitrant air conditioner was threatened back to functionality. A cash-paying guest was upset we couldn’t break a hundred. A few mistakes were made by the New Guy. He’s eager, but there isn’t a lot going on upstairs.

I am finally sitting down to my now-room-temperature chow mein noodles when in walks a gentleman. There’s nothing definite, but he’s got a vibe to him that has my attention. He has a reservation, all very standard and nothing untoward, until we get to the part of the process where I ask him for ID and a credit card.

Guest: “Oh, it’s already paid for.”

I double-check.

Me: “Hmmm… Looks like it isn’t. They would have taken your card information for the reservation, but this isn’t paid for already.”

Guest: “Well, they charged me eighty bucks.”

I triple-check, firing up the OTA (Online Travel Agency) extranet portal. Nope, NOT a prepaid reservation. The guest grumbles but provides a card.

Me: “Thank you. I’ll just need some ID.”

And here is where things start to go south.

For the sake of brevity, I shall summarize the various excuses he gave for not giving me proper identification. Please note that he circled around between these miserable excuses for excuses, offering each one at LEAST three times each.

He rummages in his wallet and then produces a different credit card. This one’s cracked and split. Notably, it’s not one of those [Warehouse Membership Store] cards with a photo on it — though we wouldn’t take one of those, either.

Guest: “It’s got my name on it, right?”

Me: “That doesn’t make it a valid ID, sir.”

Then, he tries this:

Guest: “Yeah, my wallet got stolen with all my ID and stuff in it.”

Would that be the big fat wallet you’ve been pulling your cards out of, sir?

Then, he says:

Guest: “The website at [OTA #1] said you guys don’t take ID at check-in.”

While OTAs will freely promise any and all manner of things to make a sale, that’s not one of them. Plus, while one is owned by the other, he’s very clearly booked through [OTA #2].

Me: “Well, if they said that, then they were wrong. We do require ID, please.”

Next try:

Guest: “No, see, I stay at [Our Hotel Chain] all the time because they never ask for ID.”

Me: “That is… not a brand standard. Whatever experience you may have had elsewhere, we require photo ID at check-in.”

Finally, he relents and gives me… a photo of his driver’s license on his phone.

Guest: *Smugly* “There. That’s a photo ID.”

Gentle readers, what I wouldn’t have given to have had a picture of a hotel room handy right then.

He claims that his phone ID is okay because Colorado uses virtual ID now. This is correct — sort of. They have a no-contact phone app that can store your official ID/driver’s license. However, you’re still REQUIRED to carry the physical identification, ESPECIALLY when traveling to a state that doesn’t accept it. Also, he doesn’t even have the official app, just the aforementioned photo on his phone.

Me: “Why are you driving without a valid license?”

Guest: “I’m a cop.”

I will eat. My. Hat. If he’s a cop and is trying this hard to get around a lack of ID.

His final tactic is to threaten — nay, DEMAND — to cancel if he has to show physical ID.

Me: “Oh, okay, not a problem. I can do that for you.”

Guest: “Buh?”

Me: “There we go, all done. Canceled without penalty. Have a wonderful night.”

He was a bit taken aback but realized he’d gone and messed it up. He slunk off into the night.

Ahh, but our story does not end there!

As I settled in to eat my cold and sad noodles, I noticed something on the cameras. A woman was standing in front of one of the side doors, waiting impatiently with a small terrier. Aha, they were hoping to not have to pay the pet fee, in addition to very probably using a card that wasn’t his.

The two of them met up and had a considerable discussion. They were too far away for me to hear, but if my lip-reading is accurate, she called him a “complete dumba**” at least four times.

Without other options, the lady came in (without the dog) and asked for a walk-in room. She had no problem with providing a valid card and ID. She was a little taken aback when I provided her with the Pet Agreement form, but seeing my smile, she realized that the jig was up and signed it. There we go, five minutes total, all done, sleep well.

And with that, she headed to the side door to collect her Emotional Support Dumba** and her dog, and they headed up to the room.

Thus ended a rather prolonged ordeal that, again, was very likely an attempt at using a credit card that wasn’t theirs.

The tables at my wedding were decorated with candles in votive cups. When the party was over, my aunt grabbed the box and started placing all of the cups and candles into it.

Sounds nice, right? Well, this person was known for doing things like this and then walking out with what she had collected.

I waited until she had filled the box. Then, I swept over and took the box out of her arms, gushing:

Me: “Thanks so much for collecting these for me. It saved me so much time.”

My aunt left empty-handed.

Back in the mid-1990s, I worked in the warehouse for a company famous for its outdoor clothing and a trim level of a popular SUV.

For some reason lost to history, the designer of the building decided that the best place to install the main employee time clocks was directly beneath a forklift access gate to a mezzanine level. This gate allows the forklift to raise or lower pallets from this level, but doing so blocks access to the time clocks. Obviously, the forklift operators do their utmost to avoid using the gate when people are likely to use the clocks, but tardy employees happen, so the area is roped off while the forklifts move pallets.

A memo goes around the building one day after an incident involving an employee being “injured” by one of the forklifts using the gate. The lift operator had just lifted a pallet to the mezzanine when a tardy employee ducked under the rope and began to clock in. The lift operator could not see this, and as he moved slowly forward, the employee was gently brushed by the side of the forklift. 

She was uninjured but insisted on filling out a report on the incident. This resulted in an investigation and check of the security cameras, which revealed that she had, in fact, moved under the rope and violated safety protocols.

This level of infraction usually resulted in a written warning, but she was fired the next day. During the course of the investigation, a memo was sent to her immediate supervisor noting that “Jane Doe” was involved in the incident. The supervisor responded with a “Who the heck is this Jane Doe person? I don’t have a Jane Doe in my department.”

After a lot of scrambling around, it developed that “Jane Doe” may have been EMPLOYED, but she wasn’t WORKING. Every day, she would enter the building, clock in, and then leave. At the end of the shift, she would re-enter, clock out, and leave again. Nobody noticed because of the crowd of people at shift change going back and forth.

It further developed that a relative of “Jane Doe” in Human Resources had been actively deleting her name from personnel records along with two other people to hide their existence while they collected paychecks from NOT working. This scheme had apparently been going on for around thirty months at the time…

The final fallout was all four were terminated and criminally charged. If “Jane Doe” had not insisted on the incident report being made, they would likely have gotten away with their fraud for years further.