I’m working as the only person at the till tonight. A woman walks in by herself. We sell salads and pizza at this restaurant, and to the right of the counter we have a display case where we have four pizzas available by the slice.
Me: “Hi, welcome to [Store]! What can I do for you?”
Customer: “I want to order a salad and a slice, but I’m not quite sure what salad I want.”
Me: “No problem, take your time!”
She walks up to the other side of the display case next to a family who is eating their dinner. Since we usually have a lot of clattering and music playing, it can sometimes be hard to hear people, and this was no exception. I see her point to a slice, however, so I ring it up. After half a minute or so, she is still staring at the pizza and has given no other confirmation. I go up to her to see what is wrong.
Me: “Ma’am, is everything all right?”
Customer: “Yes, I want this slice of pizza like I already said. God, can you even hear me? I already asked for it; I want this one.”
Me: “Ma’am, I did hear you.”
Customer: “I don’t think you did! After all…”
She continues to berate me for not hearing her, even though I have already placed it on her order. The dad from the family in the corner speaks up.
Dad: “Ma’am, the reason she can’t hear you is because of the divider here and because you’re speaking very quietly. She’s just trying to do her job.”
Customer: *Visibly upset* “Get the f*** away from me! I don’t appreciate you harassing me like this! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean you can get away with s*** like this!”
The father and I are both shocked at her response as he continues to defend me, before he gets up and leaves the establishment. I don’t think he sees me thanking him quietly, but I try.
Customer: “God, I just wanted a slice of pizza! I’ve never been treated so badly here; you just got me harassed! What an a**hole! I’ve been purchasing meals here for twenty-five years…”
She continues yelling at me as the soul drains from my eyes and I try to get through this order.
Customer: “And I want a salad, but I don’t know what you guys have. Where is your menu?”
She picks up the menu and browses it as I wait quietly to hear what she wants.
Me: “Are you finding everything all right?”
Customer: “Show me the salads.”
Me: “Ma’am, I can’t do that until you order one.”
Customer: “Then how am I supposed to know what’s on them?”
She shoves the menu at me.
Customer: “Tell me what you have.”
I name the salads until I’m interrupted.
Customer: “Read it to me! I don’t have my glasses on. I’m an old lady; I’m sixty-four! Is that old enough for you?! God!”
I begin to read off the salad names and their ingredients.
Customer: “I can’t do this. Let me speak to your manager. You can’t hear me at all!”
Me: “Yes, ma’am, let me grab him.”
After notifying my manager, I notice another customer has come in and has been waiting for a minute. I’m afraid of leaving the woman alone, though, and enduring more harassment, so I ask her if it’s all right that I leave her alone as I help them.
Customer: “Yes! God, can you even do your job right? This is what you’re getting paid for!”
My manager comes in and talks to her while she yells about how bad of an employee I am, as I try to help the next customer without crying. The next customer is appalled at her behavior and keeps shooting her upset glances.
My boss finally gets her something to eat and she settles down for about five minutes before coming back and yelling at both me and my coworker, who tried to fill in for us to avoid us getting yelled at again.
Customer: “The service is horrible here! And she can’t hear a d*** thing that I say, and she can’t do her job at all! And…”
She continues this rampage before my boss gives her our customer service number and she goes outside to yell at them for ten minutes. As she comes back in, I’m paralyzed with stress and trying not to cry.
Customer: “I just called the headquarters to inform them that the music was too loud, and that you were having troubles hearing my order and doing your job. I can’t believe how this company treats you! And all these children here!”
I am visibly confused at her change in character and bring out my boss before she can say anything more. I stand by as they talk.
Customer: “Your music is too loud here! And it’s horrible! I already asked you to turn it down—”
Manager: “Which we did. And our music is approved by the company—”
Customer: “I don’t give a d*** who it’s approved by! When you have children here—”
I leave the counter and have a good cry. The woman is promptly kicked out. A few days later, we share the times we’ve had nightmares about work, which is funny in a way, because the job is honestly really fun and everyone gets along really well.
Me: “Oh, man, the nightmares I’ve had about this place.”
Manager: “I had one the other night about that horrible lady who came in!”
Coworker: *Laughing* “You had a nightmare about her?”
Manager & I: *In unison* “She was so horrible, how could you not?!”
Later that night, after I’d left, the customer I served while my manager dealt with [Customer] asked for my name and wrote me a lovely card, which all my coworkers proudly told me about afterward. Yay!
