A woman calls on a night when it is just me and a manager, so I serve as an order taker, sandwich maker, and delivery driver.

Customer: “I want an Italian club but without the spicy meat.”

The Italian club normally has salami, capicola, and ham.

Me: “You might want to try the ham and cheese, as it’s cheaper and can still be made like an Italian.”

Customer: *Bellowing* “No! I want the Italian. And no mayo!”

Fine, whatever. It truly doesn’t matter to me, and her spending more means my guaranteed delivery money will be a bit more anyway, so I make her ham and cheese with Italian-style toppings and deliver it.

When I return to the shop, the manager is on the phone, and he beckons me over. He puts it on hold.

Manager: “This woman says we gave her the wrong sandwich. She ordered an Italian, and she says you made her a ham and cheese with mayo.”

I explain what she told me earlier, so the manager proceeds to have an identical conversation with the woman. However, due to corporate policy, we have to make and deliver another sandwich. This time, we decide to throw some salami on it, hoping it isn’t too spicy for her.

When I get there, she proceeds to open and take apart the sandwich in front of me, pointing out things as if they were key evidence at trial.

Customer: “And this sandwich still has mayo!”

She says this while pointing at oil-and-vinegar dressing.

She then finds the salami, tastes it, and literally begins crying

Customer: *Through her tears* “Too spicy.”

Me: “Ma’am, you have two options: you can keep either the ham sandwich or the one with salami.”

Enraged, she calls my manager, who tells her the same thing.

Me: “So, which sandwich do you want?”

Customer: *Meekly* “I’ll keep the ham and cheese.”

I begin walking back to my car.

Customer: “Wait! Aren’t you going to refund me the difference in price between the two sandwiches?”

That was the only time I ever laughed at a customer to their face.

I used to work at a popular sandwich chain. Due to poor pay and poor management, there was a revolving door of employees. Nobody stayed more than a few months (including me). Of course, some were… memorable. This one woman in particular takes the cake.

I showed up for my opening shift at 8:00 am, and I saw an unfamiliar car parked in the employee section. I thought it was odd but didn’t really care until the woman in the driver’s seat rolled down her window and began literally yelling at me.

Woman: “I’ve been here since six am!”

I was a little confused and surprised by her attitude and volume. Also, there was a convenience store literally next door where she could’ve gotten food. I wondered why she’d been sitting here for so long, but I was tired and honestly didn’t really care.

Me: “We don’t open until nine, ma’am.”

Woman: “No! I don’t want a sandwich. I want to work! I’ve got to feed my kids! I haven’t eaten in three days! I work for [Chain] all over the state! See, I’ve got a shirt!”

She pulled on her shirt to show me the uniform while I stood in the parking lot, dumbfounded. Was she asking for a job?

Me: “You’ll need to speak with my manager.”

I began walking away from the crazy lady, and she got out of her car and followed me into the shop. (The door only locks from the outside so she could simply waltz in.) My manager was already there and looked at me, confused. Before I could say anything, the woman continued her tirade of, “I need a job! I haven’t eaten in three days! I need to feed my kids!” My manager gave me a look that said, “I’ll handle it.” I headed to the back and began my opening duties.

Over the course of an hour, I heard my manager talking to this woman, saying we didn’t need her help, we had full staff for the day, etc. She didn’t stop, and eventually, my manager gave up and allowed her to work! At least the woman showed that she indeed knew what to do and didn’t need training. After a couple of hours, my manager came up to me and said she was leaving! I was stuck with the crazy woman.

Not even an hour after my manager left, this woman told me she’d been fired from another chain restaurant for stealing food! She literally used those exact words. She justified it by saying she was “too good of a worker,” and her manager was scared she was going to take his job. When I asked her about the stealing food part, she said that the last chain would allow her to take home food just before it went bad and he used that as justification to fire her. I’m sure there’s more to the story, but I said nothing.

We also get a free sandwich per shift. Being that she hadn’t eaten in three days you’d think she would’ve eaten the free sandwich. Nope, she called a friend to come to get it, and she took it out to her friend’s car where nobody could see them and out of sight of the cameras.

The next day, I showed up for my shift and she was there again! We had one too many people, which my manager said was not allowed, so someone had to get cut. I checked with my other coworkers. They said they didn’t want to lose hours and would put up with the crazy lady, so I said I was going home.

She started giving me orders! She was saying I needed to do X, Y, and Z, and then I could go home. I’m usually non-confrontational, but I gave this woman a look that said, “Ex-f******-cuse me?” She told me she was training to be the manager. Based on her previous behavior, I was 100% convinced she had just decided this herself. The actual manager was also not there, so there was nobody training her.

I left without saying anything or doing as she’d “asked” because I don’t get paid enough to put up with her BS, and the actual manager had said we could get in trouble if too many staff stayed.

Over the next two weeks, this lady over-prepped the kitchen so badly that there was no way we could use everything before it went bad. Conveniently, she offered to take it home since “we shouldn’t waste food.” She “messed up” a suspicious number of sandwiches, which she would then give to her “friends.” These “mess-ups” almost always included some of the most expensive meats, and she always delivered the sandwiches to her friends’ cars.

She refused to use the guards when slicing meat and veggies and cut the tips of her fingers multiple times. She then told the manager she needed worker’s compensation until they were healed. She refused to do anything that didn’t involve over-prepping food or making sandwiches that she could mess up.

After three weeks, she was fired.

I work at a sandwich shop. We have sourdough sandwiches. We do not have sub sandwiches. Our prices also increased last year, and our food is expensive.

Customer #1: “How much are your footlongs?”

Manager: “Ma’am, this isn’t [Sub Chain]. We don’t have footlongs.”

Customer #1: “Do you have sub sandwiches?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

He leaves.

On another occasion:

Me: “That comes to $12.99.”

Customer #2: “For a sandwich?! That’s ridiculous!”

He also leaves.

On another occasion:

Customer #3: “I would like a milkshake.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, all we have are brownies, cookies, and cinnamon rolls.”

Customer #3: *Points* “Then what’s that?”

Me: “That’s cinnamon roll frosting, sir. It’s incredibly sweet and won’t be very good by itself.”

Customer #3: “Give me a quart of that.”

I had to get my manager to explain to him why we couldn’t do that, either.

I work going door to door for a utility company with a team of five. We all dress the same — in black with our company logos — and in bad weather, we have very warm matching raincoats, also with the logo. We also have badges with our names on them and the company’s information so people know we aren’t random grifters.

On this particular day, there is a downpour so bad that it is one of only two times in four years that our leadership decides to pull us out of the field. As this is rare, we don’t really have a protocol in place, and we are told to hunker down nearby with the company van to see if it gets better before they send us home for the day or back out.

We decide to check out a small sandwich shop one of the guys swears is the best in the area. Wet and hungry, we all think this sounds great and head right on over to get some food while still on the clock and getting paid until we hear back.

The place is small but looks decent, and it’s also part convenience store. They don’t have a counter you order at but an employee that walks around and takes orders. With someone already talking to him, I know it’s going be a minute until all five of us get our orders in, so I elect to go last and check around the store as I’m in no hurry. After looking around, I see that my coworkers have all had their orders in, so I go up to do mine. Due to this, my order is made last and has a bit of a delay.

My four coworkers all sit down and start to eat while I wait for my sandwich. An older lady walks up to me and starts giving me a sandwich order without so much as a hello. I cut her off.

Me: “Oh, I don’t work here.”

To which I get the confusing reply:

Lady: “So, you’re working, you just don’t work here? Uh-huh, sure.”

Then, she rolls her eyes and starts giving me her order again. I put my hand up to cut her off, point to the logo on my jacket — which is still soaked, by the way — and ask:

Me: “Does this look like the store’s name to you?”

My order was announced at this point, so I stepped away, grabbed my sandwich, and smiled at her as I walked by her again to sit with the four people dressed identically to me who were already eating.

You’d think this would be the end of it, with me just eating my sandwich while basking in that lady’s indignation, but no. She stomped off and found the proper person to speak with, dragged him back into view, and started complaining about me while he desperately tried to explain that I didn’t work there.

By the time we finished eating and left, I still don’t think she had placed an order.

I’m buying a sandwich at Quizno’s. The name is important because this evening, and for the last few evenings, the neon sign outside has been broken and only the Q in the name is visible at night.

I’m paying for my sandwich when I see a customer approach the manager.

Customer: “Saw the sign. Glad there’s more of us out here now.”

Manager: *Big sigh* “Sir, like I have told everyone else, the sign is simply broken. We are not associated with QAnon or any other conspiracy within the government. We sell sandwiches, soups, occasionally cookies, and that is all.”

Customer: “Ah.” *Winks* “Gotcha. So, what would you… recommend?”

Manager: “There are no hidden messages in the sandwiches!”

Customer: “So… the soup, then. Gotcha. I’ll take a [Soup].”

Manager: *Even bigger sigh* “Fine. That’ll be [total].”

The customer gets his soup and leaves satisfied. I haven’t left as I’ve been transfixed during the whole conversation. I make eye contact with the manager.

Manager: “That’s the third one today!”

Me: “Seriously?”

Manager: “I have half a mind to go outside and break the last letter on the sign to stop these nutjobs coming in here.”

Me: “But they’re buying stuff. Gotta be good for sales?”

Manager: “Not worth it. Especially when they come back upset and demanding a refund because proof that the government is run by lizard people isn’t found wedged between their lettuce and cheese.”

Me: “…fair point.”

I came back later, and the neon sign was still broken but simply said, “no”. Not sure if this was a genuine fault or the manager making a stand.