(I work part-time in a gas station convenience store. We typically close at 11:00. However, tonight we decide to close early because we haven’t had a customer since 10:15. All of a sudden, a man walks up to the store as I’m walking out.)

Customer: “Hey, you! Do you work here?”

Me: “I do, but we’re closing early tonight due to lack of customers. You might want to come back tomorrow.”

Customer: “That is NOT how you treat a person as an employee. Serve me!”

Me: “Sir, I was not giving any disrespect, but you are being incredibly rude right now.”

Customer: “Oh, and now you’re telling me how rude I’m being! Hypocrite. Serve me!”

Me: “It’s too late. I’ve already closed the store. I can’t do that now. Also, you are trying to call out MY hypocrisy, but I’m not the one being disrespectful. I already said you could come back tomorrow. YOU are the hypocrite.”

Customer: “I know you are, but what am I?”

Me: “Oh, man, you got me there. Have a good night.”

Customer: “I won’t forget you! You will pay for this.”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry; I’ll remember you, too. See you tomorrow.”

(I walked to my car, hoping and praying I wouldn’t have to see the man the next day.)

(I am at a chess tournament. My friend is the defending champion and has made it to the finals. After a hard-fought match, he is checkmated by his opponent.)

Opponent: “CHECKMATE! I beat the champion!”

Friend: “Well-played! Congratulations!”

Opponent: “In your face, loser! In! Your! Face!”

Friend: “Um, dude, not cool.”

Opponent: “What’s the matter? Poor baby gonna cry? Waaaa! Waaaa!”

Tournament Official: “No, he’s not, but if you don’t stop, you won’t like the results.”

Opponent: *ignoring the official* “WAAAAA! WAAAAA! Loser, loser, you’re a worthless loser!”

Tournament Official: “[Opponent], for your poor display of sportsmanship, you have been disqualified from the tournament!”

Opponent: “WHAT?! That’s not fair! I’m the champion!”

Friend: “If you really were a champion, you’d know that a true champion doesn’t humiliate their opponent.”

Opponent: “BUT I BEAT HIM FAIR AND SQUARE! IT’S MY PRIZE! DO YOU HEAR ME? MINE!”

(The official called over security, and the rowdy player was escorted out of the building. As they were dragging him out, he was screaming and threatening to sue. He was banned from the tournament for life. Incredibly, the moron made good on his threat of a lawsuit, but unsurprisingly, given the large number of witnesses who testified against him, he lost and is now banned from every chess tournament in the state, as a result. As for my friend, who remained calm throughout the whole ordeal, he was declared this year’s champion by default. However, he refused the title, saying that it would be better to not have a champion this year than to have one that didn’t earn it.)

(During the holiday season, I naturally say, “Happy holidays,” as I am not religious. It isn’t a political thing; I just find it inclusive so I don’t have to guess their religion and risk discrimination, and I personally like it when people say, “Happy holidays.” However, in customer service, this means I’m personally starting a war on Christmas. I have just finished piercing someone’s ears with a special Christmas tree earring we have for the holiday season.)

Me: “All right, go home and take care of your ears! They’re like open wounds, so you have to clean them. Happy holidays!”

Girl: “Thanks!”

Mother: “How dare you?! You just pierced her ears with Christmas trees, and you have the gall to say, ‘Happy holidays’? You know what we celebrate!”

Me: “It’s just an inclusive phrase, ma’am. I don’t like to assume anything. Merry Christmas.”

Mother: “I’ll have you fired, you Satanist.”

(I am not fired, nor does she complain to any manager or supervisor. In the same job, within the same week, I pierce the ears of a girl who really likes “Frozen.” We happen to have Elsa earrings on sale for a holiday price, so she gets those.)

Me: “Thanks, and happy holidays!”

Mother: “You just pierced her with Frozen earrings, so you must know we are Christian and celebrate Christmas!”

Me: “What?”

Mother: “Elsa is Christian! It’s a Christmas movie!”

Me: “Uh, what part about the movie makes you think it has anything to do with religion? She’s an ice princess in a cold climate.”

Mother: *begins, then realizes she can’t come up with anything* “Okay. Happy Hanukkah.”

Me: “…?”

Related:
Unhappy Holidays, Part 7
Unhappy Holidays, Part 6
Unhappy Holidays, Part 5

(We have plain cones, sundaes, and milkshakes. The milkshakes are automatically made with whipped cream and a cherry unless the customer specifically asks to not have them. It is pretty clear that they come with these, as there are big pictures of the shakes on the menu board.)

Customer: *orders meal* “…and I want a chocolate milkshake.”

Me: “All right. Your total is [price].”

(After placing the order I immediately begin to make the man’s shake.)

Me: “Here you go, sir.”

Customer: “I ordered a milkshake.”

Me: “I know. This is yours.”

Customer: “I ordered a milkshake.”

Me: “Sir, this is a milkshake.”

Customer: “No, I want a milkshake.”

Me: “This is a milkshake.”

Customer: “I want a milkshake!”

(This back-and-forth continues, with me trying to convince him that the shake he has watched me make the entire time without stopping me is, in fact, a milkshake until he gestures at it.)

Customer: “I just want a milkshake! Not all that!”

(Finally, it dawns on me what his issue with the milkshake is.)

Me: “You want it without whipped cream and the cherry?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(I made him a new shake without the toppings, and he was content. I understand not wanting them, but apparently, the milkshake ceased to be a milkshake as soon as they were added.)

Me:  “Hi. Thank you for calling [Bookstore]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “Hi. There was a book in the New York Times that I’d like to get.”

Me: “Okay. Do you know the title, or what it’s about?”

Customer: “No, but it was a full-page ad in the newspaper.”

Me: “Okay, give me one second.”

(I go and scan through the “Times” to find anything to go off of.)

Me: “Okay, I didn’t see anything. Are you sure it was the Times? I checked today’s paper and there weren’t any full-page ads like that.”

Customer: “Today’s paper? No, this was weeks ago. Do you know the book?”

Me: *pause* “We don’t have it.”