A couple comes into the store and buys some items.

Female Customer: *To the male customer.* “No, don’t get that brand. The Mexicans buy those ones, so they must be gross.”

She catches my eye as she says this. I am clearly Hispanic.

Female Customer: “You one of them illegals?”

Me: “I was born in Texas, ma’am.”

Female Customer: “Ah, so your parents snuck you across before you were born, huh? They should change the law so they can’t allow that.”

Me: “Not that it’s any of your business but my mother was also born in the US, and her parents were from Venezuela.”

Male Customer: “Drug runners then, ha!”

Me: *Trying to hurry it along, gesturing at their items.* “Is this everything?”

They make their purchase, and it comes to $19.89. The customer hands me $100.

Male Customer: “Keep the change, you might need it for when you need to bail an uncle out of jail, ha!”

They head off, leaving me both confused at the large ‘tip’ combined with their awful racism. It all makes sense two hours later when I see him come back in.

Male Customer: “I… uh… was here earlier.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I remember.”

Male Customer: “I thought I had paid with a twenty, but I… I think I paid with a hundred.”

Me: “Yes, sir, I remember. You told me to keep the change.”

Male Customer: “Well… uh… that was a mistake. Can I have my change back?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I just came back from my lunch and in that time, I donated your generous tip towards a charity that helps lawyers who help migrants trying to stay in the US.”

Male Customer: “What! I… uh…”

Me: “Your donation was greatly appreciated, sir! If you feel that you would like to take this matter further, please write to our Corporate HQ.”

The customer looked angry but stormed out. My revenge was petty, but oh so worth it. I (or my manager) never heard from Corporate.

I was a good waitress back in the day. I wasn’t the best around, but I was pretty good.

One day, this lady and her husband and kid were seated in my section, and I went to greet them. They seemed really normal. I went and got their drinks for them.

Me: “Are we ready to order yet, or do we need a few minutes?”

Avocado Lady: “Yes, I’m ready. But you need to know that everyone always gets my order wrong, and I never get to eat with my husband no matter where we go.”

I was thinking maybe she had some crazy allergies and maybe there were some hidden things she couldn’t eat. I was wrong.

Avocado Lady: “Okay, so, I want this buffalo chicken sandwich, but I don’t want the chicken that comes with it; I want a fried chicken patty.”

Okay, that’s doable, but she kept going.

Avocado Lady: “I don’t want any sauce in it, but I want honey mustard on the side. I want literally everything on the side but the avocados. I also want the Swiss cheese, not American, but I want it added on last. I also need four containers of ranch, and the fries need to be crispy with extra salt.”

Like I said, I was a good waitress and I wanted to be the one that got it right for her, so I went to my manager and asked her to help me ring it in, just to make sure it was absolutely correct. She’d been there for nine years and also struggled with it a bit.

If you’ve worked in the food service, “on the side” can mean two things: “get rid of it completely” or “I want to add the amount myself, so put a bit on the side.” I was running around with other tables when this lady’s order came up, but I was able to run it.

There were baby plates with all of the side stuff on them, including the avocados. The kitchen saw all the stuff on the side and just decided that also meant the avocados. I put her husband’s food down and he thanked me. Then, I went to put the lady’s stuff down and she lost it.

Avocado Lady: “Are you serious?! Are you really this stupid?! Why does this happen everywhere?”

Her husband tried to calm her down, but she started screaming for a manager. My manager went over and started talking to her.

Manager: “Hi, I’m the manager. What’s the problem?”

Avocado Lady: “…and my avocados are on this stupid plate and not on my sandwich! And that waitress is literally the dumbest person I have ever met!”

This is where I thought my manager was going to cave and give her free food or something.

Manager: “What would you like me to do, take it back to the kitchen and put them on for you?”

I almost died laughing. The lady had the wind taken out of her sails, and she was quiet for the rest of the night. She left me no tip, but it was worth it for my manager to point out how stupid she was. Maybe the reason you can never eat with your husband in public is that you do stuff like this?

Related:
Avocado-No-No, Part 2
Avocado-No-No

After I got out of the Navy, I moved to South Padre Island and began working on an offshore charter fishing boat. The island is a small barrier island off the coast of Texas, and we would get a fair share of visitors. Luckily, our boat had a guide that dealt with the visitors, as my tolerance for them was… not high.

Visitor: “This island…”

Me: “Yes?”

Visitor: “If they got rid of the bridge to the island, would it just float away?”

I just stared at him with a look of pure disgust, before the guide thankfully ushered him away to diplomatically answer his stupid questions.

I’m a police officer, and the strangest call I had around the holidays was a supposed domestic violence situation in progress that my partner and I responded to on Christmas Day.

It turns out Dispatch had called it a domestic violence call because the line had connected, but nobody was on the phone. All Dispatch could hear were the sounds of destruction going on, as well as shouting, loud jangling, and occasional screaming in the background. 

We found the whole family waiting outside. 

Man: “We’re not mad at each other. We’re just upset because we wanted to surprise the kids for Christmas. We got some deer and dressed them up, and now they’re destroying our house.”

My partner and I had to have them repeat themselves because in no way, shape, or form could either of us comprehend the stupidity.

It turns out that, yes, there were literally three fully grown white-tailed deer in the house, somehow dressed in full bell harnesses like Santa’s reindeer. The family had “borrowed” them from a nearby deer ranch (without the owner’s permission). The wife couldn’t understand why or how “sweet, gentle, herbivores” could get so violent.

I had to call the game warden and the ranch owner down, who were then able to help me remove the deer from the property without injury to us or them.

The parents were then read the riot act about their stealing what was classified as livestock from a ranch. Yes, it was still stealing, even if they intended to return the animals. Also, an herbivore’s instincts said that things clinging to them were life-threatening predator attacks, so of COURSE, the feel of the harness had been unwanted, and the jangling of the bells had probably made the situation worse for the poor animals.

The ranch owner was thoroughly disapproving of the theft of his deer, but he decided not to press charges due to the level of destruction in that house. Nothing breakable was left intact; they lost the flat-screen TV, presents were smashed, the tree was overturned, Christmas decorations were broken, the furniture was damaged, and of course, there was deer poop on the carpets.

In the end, at least someone got a guffaw out of the situation.

Although, how the parents even managed to get the deer and actually dress them up is still a mystery to this day.

This happened about thirty years ago. I worked at an IT Consulting company for about two years. In October, they lost their primary contract with a large state department that kept most of their 100-plus employees working and generating income.

Suddenly, there were a bunch of consultants out of billable work and on the bench, and the company scrambled to find new gigs for us. Some were able to be placed immediately, while they had more trouble finding work for others with more specialized skills, like me. The company kept us on at full salary and offered us training in other skills, which I took advantage of.

Come December, the holiday party season started. We had a nice lavish party on a weekend in a brand-new luxury hotel that had just opened recently. Obviously, the party had been paid for before the contract loss.

There were the usual drinks and dancing and food, and there were prize giveaways via random numbers. The grand prize was an all-expenses-paid weekend at the hotel. I was attending with my girlfriend, and I happened to have the winning ticket for the grand prize. Sweet!

I went up, and the woman from Human Resources giving out the prizes had a sour look on her face. I didn’t think much about it. My girlfriend and I were stoked about this opportunity for a mini stay-cation.

I came in for work the following Monday and was immediately called into the boss’s office. I was thinking they had finally found a new client for me, but no. They were letting me go due to no work. I wasn’t the only one let go that day. It sucked that it was right before the holidays, and I was slated to go back to California over the holidays to see family.

It looked to me like the Human Resources lady wanted to ask for the prize back since I was no longer going to be an employee, but she didn’t have the guts to ask. (I’d have politely declined.) But at least I knew why she had a sour look on her face at the party when I won.

I took the time off for the holidays, and when I got back, I found a new client on my own within a week. My girlfriend and I used the prize as a way of celebrating my new career as an independent IT consultant.