I work in a hotel. Our sundry shop has some nicer products like nicer toothbrushes, combs, floss, etc., but we do keep some free sample products like cheap toothbrushes and toothpaste packets for complimentary use.

We have deodorant back there for free, as well, but the only kind we have is a travel-sized name-brand deodorant. It’s just a “clean breeze” smell, and I have used it for days when I forgot to apply. It is technically women’s deodorant, but men can use it, too, and it’s just waxy armpit smelly stuff, so the fact that it’s gendered is stupid in the first place.

A guest asks if we have any simple toiletries in the back because he forgot his toiletries. I give him a toothbrush, comb, toothpaste packet, moisturizer, face wipes, and the deodorant. He picks up everything but the deodorant.

Guest: “Do you have any other kind? I’m not using my wife’s deodorant.”

Me: “That’s the only kind we offer. But [Store] is two minutes away and you can pick your favorite there.”

Guest: “I’ll be fine without it for two days. Never mind. Keep it.”

Sir, you would rather be stinky than try on “clean breeze” deodorant because it’s feminine? Gross.

My family is Cuban, but I was born and raised in America. I am fluent in both Spanish and English. I easily pass as a white guy (except that I have an extremely Hispanic name) and I rarely ever speak Spanish outside of my house.

During my freshman year in high school, back in 2012, the bus stop was a five- to ten-minute walk from my house, and I live in Florida so the weather was either rain or blistering heat. I had a friend who lived a couple of houses away, and his mom was a stay-at-home mom. [Friend’s Mom] would drive us both to the bus stop or sometimes all the way to school. [Friend’s Mom] was a super religious type; she would only play Christian music, and she thought Pokemon was made by the devil and basically everything pop culture was, too.

Neither [Friend’s Mom] nor her son knew I spoke Spanish, so for the three years that she drove me to school, she would talk s*** about me to her son in Spanish. She basically would judge my outfit, say racist things, call me dumb, make fun of my haircut, and mention anything else about me she did not like. When [Friend’s Mom] spoke to me in English she would act like the nicest lady you ever met. I pretended I did not understand her for three years because screw walking.

I knew that senior year I would be driving myself to school, so on the last day of junior year when she gave me a ride to school, we had the following conversation in Spanish.

Me: “Good morning, [Friend’s Mom].”

Friend’s Mom: *In a confused tone* “Good morning.”

Me: “Since today is the last you will have to drive me to school. I just want to let you know how grateful I am for you driving me to school these past three years. My mom made you chocolate tres leches; your son told me it was your favorite.”

Friend’s Mom: *With a “surprised Pikachu” face* “You speak Spanish?!”

Me: “Yes, of course. That’s all my family speaks at home. Your jokes about me the last few years have been hilarious.”

Friend’s Mom: “You should have told me you spoke Spanish! You’ve invaded my private conversations with my son!”

[Friend] starts bursting out laughing.

Friend’s Mom: “YOU BOTH CAN WALK TO SCHOOL! GET THE F*** OUT OF MY CAR NOW! AND TAKE YOUR STUPID CAKE WITH YOU!”

Me: “Okay. Have a good rest of your day, [Friend’s Mom]. Thank you again.”

My friend apologized for his mom’s behavior, but I didn’t care, and we both just laughed. I did appreciate the rides, and I have thick enough skin to not care what she said about me. I never saw [Friend’s Mom] again, and last I heard, she and her son are not on speaking terms.

A guest comes into our hotel on the evening of March 12, and I recognize his name right away. I checked him in for a two-night stay from March 9 to March 11. I didn’t have any issues with him. He was just a normal guy, save for the way he spoke quickly and didn’t enunciate clearly, which was frustrating because I had to keep asking him to repeat himself.

He wants a room for another two nights. Okay, no problem.

Guest: “Oh, and can you price match my last stay so I’m paying the same amount for this one?”

I am taken aback. We don’t price-match previous stays. That’s just such an outlandish idea. It makes zero sense. We have people with special negotiated rates because they stay so often, but we have never price-matched previous stays.

Me: “Uh, no, our rates change from night to night. I can’t change the price to match the one you previously got on another day.”

Guest: “Well, the lady who checked me in last time said that they’d be able to price-match that rate for my future stays.”

Me: “I was that lady who checked you in last time. And I did not say that.”

Guest: “Well, I spoke to the manager the next morning, and they told me that I could keep that rate for future stays since I stay here so often.”

To be clear, this guy has stayed at the hotel ONCE — only from March 9 to March 11. There is no other record of him ever staying here before that. And there is no negotiated rate for him because he doesn’t stay here often.

Me: “There is no negotiated rate listed for you. Since you have AAA, I can add that to your reservation, but nothing else. The price would be $73 plus tax per night, which would come out to about $78.38 total per night.”

I can’t remember the exact number now.

(AAA is the American Automobile Association; they provide insurance, roadside assistance, and other benefits to their members.)

Guest: “Well, last time, the rate was $72 per night with tax included in it.”

Me: “No, that would not be correct.”

Guest: “Yes, it was $72 with all taxes included.”

As if I couldn’t look up his last folio and see what the rate was! A pro tip: don’t try to scam someone who has hard evidence contrary to your lies.

I look up his last folio, print it out, and highlight the room rate for each night plus the applicable taxes under each. I explain it to him very clearly, saying that the rate was $72.90 before the taxes, which are listed below the room charge.

And the guest still has the gall to tell me that the $72.90 is with taxes included. I point at the tax lines and say no.

Guest: *Mumbling* “Well then, somebody lied to me.”

Me: “I can give you the AAA rate, and that’s it. Take it or leave it.”

And he took it. And I put him in a room that was right across from the elevator AND the ice machine. Good luck getting any sleep, a**hole.

I warned my coworker about him and put it in my recap email, as well, so that everyone would be aware in case he tried that on someone else.

Don’t try to scam the person who checked you in last time. You’re likely to fail and get yourself put somewhere that’s not exactly desirable.

I work in a hotel. I’m on a 9:00 pm to 7:00 am night audit shift. At 10:30 pm, a family of four — a dad, a mom, their preschool-aged toddler, and their infant — are in the lobby. They are just enjoying life. I give them a hello.

Couple: “We love your hotel! We have a bed for ourselves and a bed for our kiddos, and it’s just so nice! We’ll definitely be coming back. You people are super nice!”

I’m immediately charmed by this family, and I’m happy they are happy.

My first impression of this family is that they probably are not swimming in cash back home. They’re probably not the valedictorians of their high school graduating class nor taste-making influencers, but they’re genuinely nice people.

I gather that my modern mid-scale “owner-friendly” chain hotel is the fancy hotel from “Coming To America” to these kind folks.

After a little family time in the lobby recreational area, the family shuffles off to their room. We say our goodbyes. I like them.

At 11:15ish, my friends are back again. Gotta get a smoke in. We laugh at the false goodbye.

At midnight, just Dad and the infant come down. The cute little baby is fussy. We have a discussion about our hotel breakfast.

At 12:30, there’s a family parade again. Okay, the kiddos can’t sleep. Might as well walk around the lobby. I guess. Dad, you’re smoking while holding the infant outside?

At 1:00 am, Dad comes down on his own. He strolls the lobby again and then has another cigarette.

Dad: “Can we get a late checkout?”

Me: “My friend, check with me at breakfast and we’ll see what we can do.”

At 1:30 am, family parade again. I’ve run out of small talk. I also start to feel bad for these kids. Don’t they need sleep? I never noticed that Dad only has a couple of teeth.

At 2:00 am, back again! This time with a whole bunch of pizza for the lobby microwave. This couple sure has hummingbird energy. How is anyone to sleep on a diet of pizza and secondhand smoke in the middle of the night?

Oop. Repeat convos now. Breakfast. Late checkout availability. Yes, this is a nice hotel. Oh, you’re off to bed for real this time? (I don’t believe you for a second.)

I begin to wonder. They never charged anything to a room. I never got their room number. Just for doo-doos and chuckles, I’m gonna do a perimeter check, restroom check, and floor walk.

All clear. I’m a real jerk. Stop making assumptions, ya jerk.

At 2:30 am, Dad is back! This time, he’s alone. Real hummingbird energy this time. So full of energy and insomnia.

Dad: “Do you have a condom?”

He gives me that smile that says, “I’m getting lucky.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but we don’t stock condoms.”

Dad: “Ah, well.”

Wait, was that an “Ah, well, I guess it ain’t happening tonight,” or, “Ah, well, I guess we’re risking a third child”?!

WAIT! “We have a bed for ourselves and a bed for our kiddos…”

I ran the night audit with the uncomfortable visuals of my toothless friend and his wife totally pulling the goalie while their toddler and infant slept in the same room. YIKES.

The last words he spoke to me were at 6:45 am. He said, “Them grits is too hard,” and I thought it was an appropriate finale to our friendship.

I work in a restaurant. My boss has us not seat anyone past a quarter to close. From that point until five minutes to close, we are to-go only. After that, we are essentially closed, but we make exceptions, especially if someone comes in at the last minute and just wants a cup of soup or some meatballs or something of the like.

It’s a Monday night at 8:48. We close at 9:00. Three people come inside, and I IMMEDIATELY tell them we are to-go only; we aren’t seating anymore for the night. Pretty much everything except the floors is done, and the kitchen is two-thirds of the way done cleaning up.

The group is two women and one guy. The first woman is the main aggressor here. She starts trying to barter with us to let her sit, essentially, before going nuclear.

Woman #1: “Well, why can’t we sit? There are people still in here!”

Me: “Ma’am, all the people in here are finished eating and about to leave.”

The conversation goes on like that for a bit. I proceed to tell her I’m sorry, and it’s not my rule; our boss doesn’t want us seating until the last minute because we are a local place (and he doesn’t want to have to pay the entire staff for over an hour after close because you decided you can’t go out to eat until ten minutes before the restaurant closes).

This woman LITERALLY STOMPS HER FOOT and starts throwing a tantrum like a child.

Woman #1: “This is BULLS***! I WORK IN RESTAURANTS! NOWHERE ELSE DOES THIS! THERE ARE STILL PEOPLE IN HERE! YOU SHOULD LET US SIT ANYWAY!”

The other woman in the group is peppering her friend’s tirade with insults and screams of her own.

Woman #2: “THIS IS HORRIBLE SERVICE! HOW DARE YOU NOT SEAT US!”

I offer to serve them a meal to go like six times, but that isn’t good enough. This entire time I’m staying calm and apologizing. It’s not my rule, and I’m not doing this just to be rude.

They go to stomp out the door, and they hilariously try to slam the door, which has the thing that makes it shut slowly because it’s glass. I don’t know if that makes them madder or what. As the door starts to shut, I’m ashamed to admit I lose my patience and snap at them (without raising my voice):

Me: “You don’t need to be so rude!“

A guy comes to grab his to-go, and [Woman #1] SCREAMS in his face.

Woman #1: “THEY’RE REFUSING TO SIT US! THEY’RE TO-GO ONLY, SO I HOPE YOU DONT WANT TO SIT AND EAT! THEY WOULDN’T LET US SIT!”

The poor guy just shrinks away and comes inside. The lady’s friend comes back to the door and opens it again to shriek into the restaurant.

Woman #2: “WE’RE NEVER F****** COMING BACK!“

I feel bad for all the customers still in the restaurant. They all just think the ladies are nuts.

After they leave, I lose it a little and kind of start to break down in front of my coworker.

Me: “I’m so sick of all these people screaming at me for stuff that isn’t my fault or I didn’t do!”

I went outside and called my mom and cried.

I’ve been doing this for over ten years, and I’ve never had so many rude customers the entire time I’ve been doing this as I have in the last few months.