(I work in a fast food franchise that specializes in sandwiches and curly fries. I wear hearing aids. Three customers come up, and the following happens:)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]; order whenever you’re ready.”

Customer #1: “I’d like a [meal #1] with fries and a drink, thanks.”

Me: “All right. Would you like to make it small, medium, or large?”

Customer #1: “Just a large, thank you.”

Me: “Sounds good.”

Customer #2: “I’d like a [meal #2].”

Me: “Would you like it as a combo?”

Customer #2: “Sure.”

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer #2: “Medium, please.”

Me: “All right, and you?”

Customer #3: “I’d like a [sandwich #3], no fries or drink.”

Me: “All right. I have a [meal #1] with a large drink and fries, a [meal #2] with a medium drink and fries, and a [sandwich #3]. Is there anything else?”

Customer #3: “That’s not what I ordered!”

(Something about their tone makes me think there is going to be trouble.)

Me: “Ma’am, if you’d like, I can get the manager.”

Customer #3: “Do it!”

(I go and get the manager, who takes the order again on the other register and sure enough, it’s the exact same.)

Customer #3: “I didn’t order any of that!”

Manager: “It shows here [Customer #1] ordered a [meal #1] as a large, [Customer #2] ordered a [meal #2] as a medium, and you ordered a [sandwich #3].”

Customer #3: “I demand free food!”

Manager: “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that here.”

Customer #1: “We’re so sorry. I think she thinks she’s entitled to free stuff just because she noticed your worker is deaf and thinks she is ‘incompetent.’”

(The manager kicked out [Customer #3]. Sadly, I don’t work there anymore, but that is still my favorite manager to this day.)

(I am working in the drive-thru window at a cigarette store next to a good-sized casino. It is about an hour before shift change when a van drives up with about seven guys in it.)

Customer #1: “Hey, do you have money to break $100?”

Me: “Yeah, I’ve got a little bit. What can I get for you?”

Customer #1: “I’d like a [cigarillo].”

(I get the item and ring it up.)

Me: “Okay, that’s going to be [less than $1].”

(He pays and I give him his change when the next guy leans over, waving another $100.)

Customer #2: “Hey, I want one, too!”

(I pause and look into the van. I see them all digging through their wallets.)

Me: “Hey, guys, show of hands; how many of you are buying a single [cigarillo] before you go to the casino?”

(They indicate they all are.)

Me: “And are you all paying with a $100 each?”

(They again all indicate they are.)

Me: “Yeah, I don’t have enough for that. Unless your buddy here treats you all, you’ll need something smaller to pay with. The cage girls in the casino can break your bills easier than I can.”

(They grumbled but all ended up managing to pay with $1 bills.)

(I am at the zoo with my family looking at the tigers. The lions are on the other side of the zoo. A woman in her 20s walks up holding an 18-month- to two-year-old child.)

Woman: “Look, honey! See the lions?”

I’m working the evening shift alone. It’s policy that when we’re alone and need to use the restroom, we wait until every customer has left and lock all of the doors.
It’s a little after 10pm and I’ve been waiting for two hours for the store to clear so I can take a quick pee break.
I lock the doors, put a sign up explaining what is going on, and take care of business.
A few minutes later, I open back up and help the customers that had been waiting outside.
A man comes to the counter. He’s a regular, but doesn’t talk very much. He’s physically very intimidating, so I’m a bit nervous.
Turns out, he just wanted to make sure I was safe. He saw the people outside, but didn’t see me, so he pulled a U-turn on the highway and rushed over to make sure I was okay.

Thank you Sir.

(My husband and I have just picked up our son from his dance class, which released a bit late due to rehearsals. We decide to go into a popular food chain for dinner. We have no trouble ordering at the counter, and I follow my son to the table he’s picked out while my husband gets our drinks. Other than a couple enjoying the last of their meal, the only other occupants of the lobby are two employees, probably in their early 20s, sitting around, talking quite loudly. I don’t get it, since they’re clearly understaffed in the kitchen, but I brush it off as them being off the clock and waiting on a ride. Everything’s fine until we settle down.)

Employee #1: “Man, I tell you what. I hate that manager! I hate him so f****** much. Why the h*** they gotta hire these a**holes?”

Employee #2: “Nah, he’s not as bad as [Other Manager]. That b**** signed me up for a whole extra shift this week! Like I’m not already busting my a** with two a week. I hate this stupid, worthless, f****** job. I hate this whole f****** company.”

(The cashier we ordered from joins them at this point, and hubby brings the tray over. The “chat” continues in a similar vein between the three for a bit, swearing all the while. More than once, I’m tempted to speak up, but I just bite my tongue and ignore their rants, figuring it’s not worth it. That is, until about halfway through our meals:)

Cashier: “These customers are the d*** worst! I mean, seriously, what the f*** is their problem? This guy sent his food back three times yesterday!”

Employee #2: “Why didn’t you just spit in his food?”

Cashier: “Too many cameras, man. I would if I could.”

Employee #1: “Doesn’t stop me. I know how; I’ll show you.”

(At this point, my husband is hurriedly gathering everything back onto the tray and goes to stand up, but I stop him.)

Me: “I got this.”

(I gather the tray, and head for the counter, walking straight past the oblivious trio. I am NOT a confrontational person. My husband usually handles complaints because I get tongue-tied and flustered. Not so this time.)

Me: *to another employee* “Can I see your manager, please?”

Employee #3: “He’s with an order. Can you wait just a few minutes?”

Me: “No. No, I really can’t. Manager. Now.”

(In retrospect, I AM sorry for scaring her, but at the time, I wasn’t really thinking about it. It should also be noted that, due to all the noise in the back, the employees can’t really be heard above a low rumble at the counter.)

Manager: *handing off drive-thru headset* “Can I help you, ma’am?”

Me: “Yes, you can. Your employees, there, are talking about spitting in customers’ food. Well within earshot of my family.”

(The man’s eyebrows jump up and he turns extremely pale.)

Manager: “I… completely understand, ma’am. Let me just remake that for you…”

Me: “I’m not done. They’re also griping about hating their shifts, their managers… [Other Manager] was one they mentioned… and how much they hate working here and with your company. And swearing like sailors, to boot.”

Manager: “Well, let me get this remade for you, and I will certainly be taking care of this severely.”

Me: “Thought you’d like to know. Can we get that to go? I think the other people have left already, and I’m not going to hang around with them anymore.”

(He nodded and came back with our order completely remade, as well as a card with his name and number on it, with instructions to call if any of us got sick. As we drove away, all I could see from the road was the lobby sign suddenly flipping to closed. I’m willing to bet I’m glad to have missed out on the complete a**-chewing that likely followed, and on subsequent visits, none of those employees were in sight.)