(Our store closes promptly at midnight every day. I had already turned off the open sign and was in the process of putting the food away when a customer walks in.)

Customer: “Oh no, no, no! Wait! What are you doing? Don’t put the food away! I need a sandwich.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed.”

Customer: “Closed? But you close at midnight!”

Me: “Yes, sir, we do, and it’s already five past midnight. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “No, it’s not! My watch says it’s 11:59. You still have a minute and I’m hungry. How hard is it to make a sandwich?! Just do your job.”

(After having a busy day, and still a little behind on my cleaning, I was trying my best not to sound frustrated.)

Me: “Again, I apologize, but [Fast Food Place] across the street is open 24 hours if you—”

Customer: *interrupts* “Whatever! It’s too late now and you wasted my time! F*** you!”

(I work at a sandwich shop. One of the customers, who comes in every single day, is a cashier at a grocery store across the way, and I pretty much hate him. Nothing specific, but every time he comes in he is completely disengaged from the employee serving him and he snaps at you if you ask him to repeat part of his order, or groans out loud if you ask if he wants a value meal. Whenever he comes in I brace myself for the most awkward order ever, yet I must be as professional but plastic as humanly possible, and I am prepared, no matter what I do, to get it wrong somehow. I see him walking across the parking lot, and he already has THAT face on, like he is already in an impatient mood, but I do something different. I look up, and instead of bracing for the worst, I physically relax myself and put on a big, tired smile. The customer before him has just finished their order, packed up, and passed him going out the door. I greet the regular with my big tired smile and gesture at the gentleman who just left.)

Me: “That guy. He’s usually so great, but I don’t know what I did today. Everything was wrong. It wasn’t like, anything specific, but he kept snapping at me and I didn’t know what to do.”

(I am lying. The previous customer did no such thing.)

Me: “I’m glad you’re the next customer. I don’t know what I’d do if the next customer was worse.”

Regular: “Oh?”

Me: “Yeah, you’re pretty low key when someone messes up because you totally get that it’s not on purpose; it’s just a customer service thing.” *gesturing at his name badge* “I’m just glad I’ve got a pleasant friendly face to deal with right now. You’re one of my easy customers, and I appreciate it. So, yeah, bread. You usually get wheat, right?”

(The rest of the transaction went SO MUCH SMOOTHER. As I worked, we spent a minute chit chatting about customers in general and how our days were. When I asked him to clarify part of his order he just smiled and repeated himself gently instead of snapping this time. He didn’t get annoyed with my scripted up-sell asking if he’d like to “make it a meal,” he paid, and he left. And every other time after that he came in, he WAS, FOR REAL, the most low-key, pleasant customer I had, and he would look for me specifically to handle his order. Turns out I am the tamer of beasts!)

(I work in a busy sandwich shop in a retail centre. It’s relatively quiet when a man and his two sons enter. They are regulars, but are usually rude. The father ignores us and plays with his phone while the kids order.)

Me: “And what salad would you like?”

Son #1: *reels off salads* “…and onions. And [burger sauce].”

Me: *wraps his sandwich for him and hands it over before moving on*

(A few minutes after the father has paid, he storms back to the counter with Son #1’s sandwich.)

Father: “There are onions in here. He cannot eat onions. He is allergic!”

Me: *worried about the allergy* “I’m so sorry! Do you need me to call emergency services?!

Father: “What? No. He’s just allergic!”

Me: *I’m confused, but relieved more than anything* “Okay, I’m very sorry! I’ll make you a new one straight away.”

(I make the new sandwich as before, and ask the boy over to tell me his salad items again.)

Son #1: *reels off his salads* “And onion.”

Me: *hesitates* “I’m sorry, but your father asked me not to add onions.”

Father: *from other side of restaurant* “NO ONIONS!”

Son #1: *sighs* “Fine. But I want the [burger sauce]!”

Me: “I’m afraid that sauce has onions—”

Father: “NO ONION!”

Me: “—is there anything else I can offer you?”

Son #1: “I just want the d*** [burger sauce]!”

Father: *storms up to counter* “He can have the sauce!”

Me: “The [burger sauce] contains onions so I’m not comf—”

Father: “Just give him the sauce!”

Me: *shrugs and puts the sauce on, adding extra when asked before wrapping the sandwich up*

Father: *snatches sandwich before I can bag it* “No onion! Was that so hard to understand?” *storms off again*

(They spent the rest of their meal glaring at me while I worked and left their mess all over the table, including the original sandwich they rejected. When I went to clean up, I find all of the onion had been removed from the sandwich and was nowhere to be seen.)

(I am in a sandwich shop waiting in line while the customer ahead of me orders.)

Customer: “Can I get a six-inch gluten-free bread?”

Employee: “Sure, no problem. Do you want me to toast the bread before I put the toppings on?”

(This is a standard offer for their gluten-free bread.)

Customer: “Yes.”

Employee: *after toasting* “So, what kind of sandwich are you having today?”

Customer: “Scrape off the gluten.”

Employee: “Ma’am?”

Customer: “I can see the gluten. The dark bits. Scrape them off.”

(The employee scrapes off the toasted bits of the bread.)

Customer: “I want [Sandwich].”

Employee: *puts the first type of meat on the bread*

Customer: “NO! Ham goes on the other side.”

Employee: *puts ham on the other side and starts putting on salami*

Customer: “No! Salami goes on last!”

(This goes on for each and every single thing the employee puts on the sub. The entire time he’s smiling like she’s the best customer in the world.)

Me: *after she makes her purchase and leaves* “Doesn’t she know it’s all going to the same place anyway? It tastes the same however you put it together.”

Employee: “Yes, it does.”

Me: “How do you put up with customers like that?”

Employee: “She’s a secret shopper. [Nearby Branch of the same company] told me she might come by today.”

This story is part of our Celiac Awareness Day roundup!

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(I work at gas station with a well-known sub shop. I get stuck with dishes about 90% of the time. So while I’m doing the work nobody else wants to touch, prep is getting done. Or should be. On this day, a box of tomatoes are sitting out when I clock in and I assume someone is about to prep them.)

Me: “Hey, can you put the box of tomatoes away so they don’t go bad?”

(I had one other coworker in the back with me while the others were up front. Note that she’s always on her phone. Always. Including at that moment.)

Coworker: “I think we actually need to prep some and that’s why they’re out.”

Me: “Oh, well, can you start prepping them, then? That box has been sitting there since I got here.”

(All I got in response was a dirty look while holding her phone and eating from a bag of chips.)

Me: “…or don’t. That works, too, I guess.”