I’m a rather veteran delivery driver, but the other night, I made a mistake that could’ve cost me almost $100. Thankfully, Karma was dished out almost instantaneously.

I was knocking on a customer’s door, and a car pulled up in front of the house with two girls in it.

Driver: “That’s our food!”

So, I went up to the driver’s side door.

Me: “It’s $66.50.”

The girl in the passenger seat gave me $80 in twenty-dollar bills. Mind you, it was super dark, and now I was down in the street doing this transaction, so I couldn’t see very well. I give the girl $13 in ones, got stiffed on the tip (of course), and walked back and hopped in my car.

The second I got in my car where I had a light, I noticed that the money was obviously fake; it said, “Prop money,” on the back in black print. I looked up and saw the girls speeding off and turning around the block.

I followed them. I hadn’t even decided what I was doing yet or if I was going to call the police; I was just following them on instinct.

They took a left turn, and as I turned after them, I looked down the block just in time to see a cop whip out behind the girls’ car and light them up. PERFECT!

I pulled up next to the cop as he was getting out.

Me: “Hey, man. I’m sorry to bug you, but those girls just gave me $80 in fake money, too.”

Cop: *Smiling* “Okay, man. Karma’s a b****, ain’t it?”

Needless to say, I got the pizzas back (which I offered to the cop) and got my change back, and the girls both went to jail for fake currency and whatever else was in their car.

A customer comes up to the counter to buy a game. I ring it up and give him the total.

Customer: “Oh, my sister said I could use her employee discount. Her name is [Coworker] and she’s a store manager.”

Not only is that against policy, but I suspect that he and his sister aren’t on good terms; he called her a store manager, but she has just come back part-time after quitting due to cancer.

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. It’s against policy.”

He got really upset. When the store manager came to talk to him, he threw the game at my store manager’s face. Good times.

Our small group goes to a restaurant for brunch. Upon receiving my bill I notice something strange on the bill and bring it up with our waiter.

Me: “Excuse me, what is this? A $3 charge for table linen?”

Waiter: “Yes.”

Nothing else, no further explanation or context.

Me: “Why?”

Waiter: “You’d rather eat without table linen?”

Me: “Fair enough.”

And with that, I start folding up the tablecloth.

Waiter: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I paid for it, I’m taking it home.”

And I did!

I work in a charity used bookshop. We do not offer refunds at all; every book is sold as-is. Some of our books are antique or rare; these can be somewhat expensive.

On this particular day, it’s just the manager and me working. The manager opened the shop and then immediately left for a meeting, so I’ve been on my own the entire day, and it’s been pretty busy

A customer arrives mid-afternoon and strides angrily straight up to the register, slamming a book down; it’s obviously an old/antique book.

Customer: “I bought this this morning and I want a refund.”

Me: “What is the problem with it?”

Customer: “It’s way overpriced! I paid twenty-five quid, and I got it home and looked it up, and I can buy the same thing on eBay for a tenner.”

Me: “Oh, right. I’m sorry, but all sales are final. Book prices vary depending on the condition of the book—”

Customer: *Louder* “NO! STOP! Listen! You don’t understand. It was too expensive. You made a mistake. Where’s your manager? He said I could bring it back.”

Me: “My manager isn’t here, I’m afraid. I’m sorry if you think it was expensive, but as I said, all sales are final.

The customer is standing closer and shouting now, slamming his hand on the desk.

Customer: “NO! You’re ripping me off! When I bought it, your manager said he’d give me a refund if I could find it cheaper, and I did! So I want a refund! NOW!”

Me: “Our policy is all sales final, no refunds. And you didn’t speak to my manager when you bought it.”

Customer: “What are you— I did speak to him! This morning! He promised me a refund! ARE YOU CALLING ME A LIAR?”

Me: “My manager is an elderly lady… and she wasn’t here this morning. Yes, I am.” 

I swear, he nearly frothed at the mouth. Then, he shouted something garbled — I have no idea what — grabbed his book, and left, slamming the shop door as he went. As he grabbed the book and stormed out, a piece of paper fell to the floor. It was a receipt for £25… from a used bookshop in another town fifteen miles away.

I don’t normally take requests from friends because they almost always end up messy in one way or another, but after some bugging and badgering from a friend I’ve known for almost ten years, I cave and start to write what they request at a reduced price. The time comes for me to send it to them, but I realize they haven’t paid yet.

Me: “Hey, I know you’re busy, but I really need to get paid before I can send you the document.”

Client: “Paid? You know I don’t have the kind of money for that.”

Me: “The only reason I agreed to do this for you was that you said you would pay. I even gave you a reduced rate. If you can’t pay for it, then I’m not sending the document.”

Client: “We’re friends, though! I thought you were just joking around when we were talking prices. Can’t you just do me a favor?”

I didn’t send it until they paid me in full.