When I was working as a cashier — especially around the holiday season when gift card purchases went through the roof — our boss told us it was mandatory to check ID for any gift card purchase made over $50 if they paid by card. All of the local stores and restaurants in the area were made aware of a series of scams where people were stealing credit cards and running around town to spend the money on gift cards before the victims could cancel their cards.

I had a customer come to the register and ask for a single $50 gift card. This was strange anyway — we were a sandwich shop, so usually large gift card purchase totals were done as several cards of a smaller amount — and when she said $50, I was looking directly at the register screen punching in the security codes necessary to process a gift card while I asked her for an ID.

The woman went crazy at me for racially profiling her and started ranting at the guy standing behind her as she fished cash out of her purse and threw it on the counter it at me, then went into her purse again for her wallet. I told her that the ID was only necessary for credit card purchases, not cash. I said that she hadn’t had cash in hand when she made her request, and I had assumed that a large purchase would have been made by credit card, so the ID was no longer necessary, but she still thrust her ID within five inches of my face all the while continuing to rant at the man standing behind her in line. He just stared blankly at her the whole while with his arms folded.

The bills she handed me were two twenties and a ten. By management and corporate rules, I was required to check any bill over $10 with the bill marker. The woman started screaming again when I marked the bills and threatened to call the police on me.

Finally, the man who was standing behind her spoke up. He was a regular of mine who managed the game store across the plaza, and he told her flat-out that I was doing my job exactly as my management required and that if she had come into his store to make a similar purchase he would have required his employees to take the exact same precautions that I did.

She demanded our names and stormed out with her gift cards, presumably to make calls to both companies complaining that we were racists. My regular assured me that he was going to talk to my boss the next morning and warn him about the lunatic woman and her behavior to save my skin. My boss never approached me about the woman, so I’m assuming my friend’s call on the matter prompted him to watch the security footage and agree to brush off the crazy woman’s complaint because I was in the right.

(I walk into a local [Sandwich Shop], a very small location with only one employee working the counter at a time. There is one customer already in front of me, who is ordering for his family, and I can clearly see that this guy is already agitated. He’s pacing around the store, barely looking at the employee, and barking orders at her while he asks his family what they want. Being in food service, as well, that already gets my dander up, because I HATE those kinds of people. But the tiny girl behind the counter is doing the best she can, being genial and polite to this gentleman, and getting his sandwiches for him. But all of a sudden, out of the blue, he just starts going off.)

Customer: “Excuse me. What is that look for?”

(This girl has not changed her expression the entire time. When he speaks to her about this, she is clearly confused.)

Employee: “I’m sorry… What?”

Customer: “You’re giving me some look. Do we have a problem?”

Employee: *still politely* “No, sir, we don’t have a problem.”

(The employee then turns to get his second sandwich from the toaster and he seems to leave it like that. But as soon as she turns around to ask him what he wants on the second sandwich, he goes off again.)

Customer: “Look. Clearly, you have a problem with me. I see it in your look. What did you say to me? Why are you being rude?”

Employee: *still polite as she can, but she is now getting a little upset* “Sir, I don’t have any look! I haven’t said anything to you!”

(I’ve had it with the guy, and since he keeps insisting she is being rude and giving him nasty looks, I finally cut in.)

Me: “Sir, I’ve been watching the whole time and this girl is doing fine. Her expression has not changed, and she is only asking what you want for toppings. Just order your sandwich and leave her alone!”

(I want to say more, but since his daughter is sitting right there, I don’t want to swear at him and show him what it is REALLY like for someone to be rude to him. Once the customer sees me jump to the employee’s aid, however, he finally shuts up after muttering to himself.)

Customer: “Okay, okay, fine… Jesus Christ…”

(He said nothing more after that, paying for his sandwiches and sitting down to eat. When it was my turn I made it a point to be clear and exceedingly polite when placing my order, just to rub it in what a d**k he was. When I got to the counter, the employee said it was on the house and was clearly grateful that I’d stepped in. I still sat near the counter while the guy was there, just in case he tried to harass the girl again. I’m so sick of people who think it’s okay to harass food workers.)

(I work at a sandwich shop where the employees make the subs right in front of you down an assembly line. It is the beginning of lunch before the lunch crowd rolls in, so there are no customers in the store yet. My coworker and I see two customers walk in, so we approach the bread station and greet them as we wash our hands.)

Me: “Hi! How are you today?”

(The customers nod at me but otherwise ignore us. I’ve finished washing my hands and I’m putting my gloves on at the bread station. The two customers are deeply involved in a conversation.)

Me: “Whenever you’re ready, I can grab your bread selection for you.”

(The customers don’t even acknowledge me, and continue their conversation. My coworker has her hands washed and joins me with her gloves on, and we both stand patiently at the counter while they are chatting loudly and animatedly, facing each other and not even looking at us. Every once in a while my coworker tries to catch their eyes and opens her mouth to speak but they continue to chat, waving their arms around and laughing. Suddenly, mid-sentence, one of the customers snaps his head at us and glares.)

Customer: “So, do you plan on taking our order or not? We’ve been waiting for five minutes already!”

Coworker: *gives me a side glance* “Yeah, sir, we’re ready when you are.”

(A man comes into my sub shop and orders. It’s the popular setup where you choose items as you go down the line, and he’s condescending the whole way. I’m used to this, so I brush it off. Then, we get to the register, and I tell him his total, which ends in sixteen cents. He pulls out his change, and he only has eight cents, all pennies. I say:)

Me: “Well, you could give me one so you’d get less change back.”

Customer: “No, I don’t have enough.”

(Then he hands me all his ones and the pennies and looks at me expectantly, so I count it and tell him he’s short.)

Customer: “See? I told you I don’t have enough,”

(He grabs the money back out of my hands. I try to explain, but he starts talking over me.)

Customer: “Yeah, I have to give you a bigger bill. What are you, a [Local School] product? That would explain why you can’t count.”

(He keeps mocking me while I count out his change, and I finally hand it to him and say:)

Me: “Now, see, I’m handing you four pennies. If you’d given me one, I’d be handing you a dime, instead.”

(He goes silent, and then almost whispers.)

Customer: “Oh. Now I feel like a jerk.” *hustles out of the store*

(My mother and I have a preference for a certain sandwich chain shop where you can order a six-inch or foot-long sandwiches with your choice of salads, sauces, etcetera. We have a go-to order so we can get through the system quickly, but every time my Dad goes into one of these stores, the same thing happens:)

Mum & I: “We’ll have the [Foot-Long Sandwich] on [bread], please.”

Mum: “Cheese and toasted, please.”

Me: “No cheese, and no toasted, please.”

Dad: “I’ll take some of that beef, and some of that bacon, and throw some of that other meat on there.”

(At this point the staff always look confused, as that is not one of the “set” combos, meaning pricing will be difficult.)

Me: “Dad, you can’t ask for that; you need to pick a sandwich type from the boards.”

Dad: “But I just want a mix of things.”

Me: *desperately scanning the boards for something with that combination of meats* “Well, why not try [other sandwich]?”

Dad: “Fine, but I don’t understand why they can’t have a selection of meat like they do the salad section?”

Server: “And would you like cheese on this, sir?”

Dad: “Sorry?”

Server: “Do you want cheese on this sandwich, sir?”

Dad: “Oh, does it come with cheese, then?!”

(Every. Single. Time. So, to staff at this chain: I’m sorry. I do try and get him to pick a sandwich type, honest!)