I train dogs for a chain pet store. The training arena is in the back corner of the building. It has a solid three-foot wall and another three feet of plexiglass above that with a solid door to enter or exit. People often stand outside and watch. Unless they seem to be recording or taking photos of the class, this is totally fine. I am teaching one of my beginner classes when a student interrupts me.

Student: “Hey, [My Name], there’s a guy out there.”

She points behind me. A phone is visible through the plexiglass beside the door. As soon as I open the door, the guy puts his phone down, still pointing the camera toward the arena. He’s wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, a hoodie, and jeans, and he won’t look directly at me. Everything about him makes me suspect he is up to something, but I still maintain a professional attitude.

Me: “Hello. How can I help you?”

Man: *Defensive* “I’m just getting some tips.”

I smile, gesturing at the phone in his hand.

Me: “I’m sorry, it’s against policy to allow—”

He not-so-subtly tilts his phone so the camera is pointed up at me.

Man: “I’m not hurting anyone by standing out here.”

I move my hand so it’s covering his camera’s view.

Me: “Sir, I’m going to have to insist you leave.”

Man: *Stepping into the arena* “This is a public building! I am an American citizen and I have the right—”

Student: “Dude, get out of here!”

The student stood and approached the man quickly and he left. Later that same shift, a manager approached and asked my side of the story.

According to the man, I cussed him out, insulted and made fun of him, and then tried to bully him into paying me directly instead of enrolling in the class. I told her what actually happened and which class it was if she wanted to contact the other students or watch the security cameras.

She called every one of my students and they all told the same story I did. The man came back a few days later, smugly expecting compensation for how disrespectful I had been. The manager silently stared at him until he left.

It is before masks are a norm. A man asks for some help with a dog collar so I walk over, keeping a two-meter distance. The man steps closer, so I step back. He comes closer, I go back. This continues the whole time discussing the collars.

Me: “Excuse me, sir, I am just maintaining a safe distance as per health guidelines.”

He ignores me.

He finally chooses a collar when standing no closer than a few inches from me. He coughs, splutters all over my face, and there are bits of mucus now in my hair. I leave the store and walk out as my manager watches in horror.

I wash my face in the public toilets nearby. I have never been so angry in my life.

I worked at a family-owned retail chain that sold pet supplies and products. When I started working there, it was great and everyone I worked with was fantastic. The owners eventually wanted to retire and sold the small chain to an investment group. Once the investment group took over, almost all but a few employees were let go or forced out, or they just quit. I hung on for a little while longer before I got promoted at my other job.

The new company brought in a new manager to my store. My store was the top-performing store in the entire chain, bringing in about $10,000 to $12,000 a day on average. It was always more on weekends and especially around the holidays. The new manager was a Mr. Company Man. The company told him that they only want employees around for two or three years. I and two others had been there for over ten years. So, naturally, he began ruffling feathers and giving us all a hard time.

Unfortunately, he decided on me first. Mr. Company Man found out I was working two jobs. The two jobs were not in related fields, so there was no chance of any conflict of interest on my end. However, my second job required me to work nights and weekends. When Mr. Company Man found this out, he demanded that I work nights and weekends there, so it was “fair” for everyone. I didn’t work nights and weekends there because I was that store’s only OSHA-certified forklift operator, and deliveries didn’t come at night; they came weekday mornings. Mr. Company Man didn’t want to hear that and told me that I either had to work nights and weekends or that day would be my last day.

I told him, “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I suppose today is my last day, then.”

I was pretty pissed about that. I went home early; I didn’t finish my shift. But when I got home, I decided to call my local OSHA inspector and report the store for not having a certified operator on staff, as well as numerous other hazards. They lost close to three weeks’ profit from all the violations the inspector found. I was surprised they even showed up. In my state, the inspector will call you back after an inspection and tell you if your claims were founded or not. Mine were.

And Mr. Company Man got his a** chewed out so bad he ended up quitting.

I’m a shift supervisor. One of the girls comes up to the front, crying.

Me: “What’s wrong?!”

Employee: “There’s some guy back in the dog food section, and I was trying to help him, but he was a total a** to me.”

She tells me that he kept arguing with her about something she was entirely correct about. I go back to that section to find this guy throwing around bags of dog food.

Me: “Do you need help, sir?”

Customer: “That girl who was back here was completely useless! She had no idea what she was talking about!”

Me: “Sir, she was correct. You’re out of line here.”

Customer: “Haven’t you heard the phrase, ‘the customer is always right’?”

Me: *Flatly* “Yeah, and in this case, he’s also a horse’s a**.”

Customer: *Losing it* “I want to speak to a manager!”

Me: *Shrugging* “I am the manager. If you want, you can fill out a customer complaint card on your way out and I will make sure I get it. But you need to leave now.”

He left.

A staff member calls me to the front to deal with an unruly customer. He’s trying to get his own fish while she’s helping another customer. He grabs his own specimen container bags from under our fish cupboard and has elastics already.

Me: “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “I want the buy-three-get-one-free fish.”

I can see he is high by his demeanor and behavior, but no big deal; people come in high all the time.

Me: “What type of tank do you have?”

Customer: “I just bought a reptile online and need to feed it.” 

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, these aren’t feeder fish. They are bred for pets and we can only sell them if they are going to be housed in the appropriate husbandry.”

Customer: “I don’t want your f****** feeder fish; I want these f****** fish.”

Me: “Sir, please stop cursing at me. I am happy to help you by selling you feeder fish for your reptile.”

Customer: “Who the f*** are you to tell me I can’t buy these f****** fish?” 

Me: “Sir, please stop cursing at me. I am willing to sell you feeder fish. These are bred as pets…”

Customer: “What’s your f****** name?” 

Me: “[My Name].”

Customer: “What’s your last name?”

Me: “You don’t need that, sir; they’ll know who I am.”

Customer: “Are you the store leader?”

Me: “Yes, sir, I sure am.”

Customer: “I’m f****** calling to complain that you wouldn’t f****** sell me fish.”

Me: “No problem, sir. At this point, I am going to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “Oh, I am f****** leaving.”

Me: “Oh, and sir, when you call, please make sure you tell them you were buying these fish as feeders. And have a wonderful day.”

Customer: “F*** you.”

Oh, fine, sir. Tonight’s cocktail will be dedicated to your hungry lizard.