(A coworker is working the ice cream counter with me nearby. The customers are a family of four and this happens when she has finished preparing the ice cream. When we ring up an item on our tills, it is stored on a list on the right hand side of the screen that resembles Excel cells. When we complete the payment process the cells’ background changes from white to red. Also, the previous transaction value, cash tendered, and change are at the bottom of the screen.)

Son: “I already paid you, lady! I put my money on the counter and you took it.”

Coworker: “No, I haven’t. I didn’t touch your money and the till clearly shows that I haven’t taken payment for it yet.”

(My coworker turns her till to emphasise this point, since I still have a complete transaction on mine I do the same.)

Father: “How dare you accuse my son of lying? I demand to see your manager!”

(I call the manager down.)

Father: “Your employee is claiming my son didn’t pay for his ice cream!”

Manager: “What did your son order, sir?”

Son: *ice cream scoop cup*

Manager: “I see this order is on the till, but the payment hasn’t been processed yet.”

Father: “Then she must’ve pocketed the note!”

Manager: “I don’t see any pockets on her uniform, but I’ll be happy to check the CCTV for you.” *points to the camera over the ice cream case, pointing over the counter on which my coworker’s till is*

Father: “Forget it! Enjoy the £10, you lying witch!”

(My manager checked the CCTV in the presence of the employee. The son did put the money on the counter but quickly pocketed it when my coworker was scooping the ice cream! We haven’t seen him since!)

(Our lobby has restrooms on opposite ends. I’m behind concessions helping a customer when we both notice a man leave his auditorium and going to the restroom on the opposite side.)

Customer: “That was my husband. He doesn’t know there’s a restroom on the other end.”

Me: “Are you ever going to tell him that?”

Customer: “If he’s smart, he’ll figure it out… which means he never will.”

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(Our theater has electric recliner-style chairs. They’re very nice, but they are often broken by guests who mistreat them, and so we’re constantly having to fix them. I’m returning from my lunch break, when I see an elderly couple confronting a petite, teenaged coworker of mine. Despite being in their 70s, the husband is HUGE and looks like he could easily overpower everyone there.)

Wife: “My husband is usually a peaceful man! But you’ve pushed him, and now he needs closure and needs you to pay!”

Husband: *fuming* “I’m gonna have someone’s head!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry… What is the issue?”

Wife: “You know what it is!”

Coworker: “I apologize, ma’am. Let me call a manag—”

Wife: *interrupting* “YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID!”

(I rush over and get a manager, who approaches them. I hear the husband and wife screaming on and off for the next five minutes, before they leave, making sure to announce loudly they’re “never” coming back to this theater, and telling every… single… person they can that we’re “cruel” and “worthless” thieves.)

Manager: *walking up to me* “Well… that was interesting…”

Me: “What was going on?”

Manager: “Someone must have broken one of the seats in the screening before those customers, because his seat was stuck permanently reclined, and it hurt his back trying to lay down in it.”

Me: “Oh, were there no other seats that he could switch to? Why didn’t they just have someone come in to fix the chair?”

Manager: “That’s the thing. I just checked, and they were the ONLY ones there. There was literally about 100 empty seats around them… He just decided that he wouldn’t switch seats, and then got mad because the one seat he picked happened to be the one broken one.”

Me: “And that’s our fault, somehow?”

Manager: “Sadly, that’s not even in the top-five of dumbest thing we’ve been blamed for by angry guests this week…”

(My mom and I are going to the movies. We always go to the same theater, around the same time, because we know the matinee times. Unbeknownst to us, the theater was recently bought out. The new owner limited the matinee times and changed ticket prices, as well as now charging tax for concessions. It’s a slow day, so at the moment you purchase tickets from concessions.)

Cashier: “Hi, what can I get you guys?”

Mom: “Two for [Movie]”

Cashier: “Two adults for [Movie]. That’ll be… [price].”

Mom: “What do you mean?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry?”

Mom: “We get the matinee price. This is matinee time.”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we recently changed management, and they changed the—”

Mom: “Are you serious?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry; ma’am, but I don’t have any control—”

Mom: “This is ridiculous!”

Me: “Mom, it’s not her fault! If it’s such a big deal, I’ll pay!”

Mom: “No, no, we said we were going to see [Movie] and we’re going to see it. Whatever, here’s the money. We’re not getting any popcorn.”

(Mom pays the red-faced cashier and we get our tickets and go to our theater. When we sit down I look at my mom. Note that I’m a cashier at a fast food restaurant.)

Me: “I can’t believe you talked to her like that.”

Mom: “What do you mean?”

Me: “It’s not her fault that they changed anything and you yelled at her! If someone talked to me like that at work I would hate them! I guarantee that right now she’s rolling her eyes with her co-workers at the mean customer she just had.”

Mom: “I didn’t yell at her…”

Me: “Yeah, you did. You were incredibly rude. And I’m going back and getting myself a soda. If you hadn’t been so rude to her, I was going to offer to buy your snacks.”

(I grab my purse and storm out of the theater, feeling pretty vexed by my mother, who I usually view as one of the most awesome people in the world. I head back to concessions and to the same girl.)

Me: “Can I get a medium Dr. Pepper?”

Cashier: “No problem.”

Me: “And I’m really sorry for the way that my mom acted…”

Cashier: “It’s fine. I’ve been getting that a lot lately. Your total is [price that’s different from what I’m used to].”

Me: “Oh, man, they’re charging tax now, too? What jerks! People must be yelling at you all the time.”

(The cashier shrugs and takes my money, and I take my soda.)

Me: “Once again, I’m really, really sorry for my mother.”

Cashier: “Really, it’s fine. Enjoy your movie!”

Me: “Have a good day!”

(I head back to my theater and sit down next to my mom.)

Me: “I apologized to the girl for how you acted.”

Mom: “Whatever…”

(As I shove my receipt into my purse I notice something odd and smile.)

Me: “She must have appreciated it; she only charged me for a small soda.”

(My mom and I were pretty passive-aggressive at each other for the rest of the day, but she ended up apologizing. I hope that I made that cashier’s day better.)

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Customer: “I’ll have two medium popcorns, two cokes, and packet of sweets, please”.

Me: “No problem, sir. That’ll be €20.”

Customer: “Are you f****** serious?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “That price is ridiculous. I’m not paying that”

Me: “That’s okay, sir. If you are unhappy with the prices there is a shop across the street.”

Customer: “Do you know what you are? You’re a f****** criminal. How dare you charge those prices!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t make the prices.”

Customer: *pauses for a moment* “Yeah, well… I don’t make the prices either.”

Me: *completely confused* “So, would you like your items or should I put them back?”

Customer: “Well, it seems I don’t have a choice. I guess I’ll have to buy them now. Oh, and I’ll also take a nachos.”