As anyone who has worked as a barista knows, you can get some really entitled, wacky customers, but you can also get some amazing customers who make your day.

One of our regulars is a woman who comes in with her seven-year-old daughter. They’ve been coming for years. The daughter, I believe, is autistic. My colleagues and I absolutely adore her. Despite the fact that she doesn’t talk much and usually keeps to herself, once she gets to know the staff, she greets them all with an excited “Hi!” and a bright smile. Sometimes she even draws us little pictures. The mum is also super nice. She’s friendly and polite, she always leaves a good tip and remembers our names, and we always have a great chat. The pair come in once or twice a week, and my colleagues and I always look forward to seeing them.

It’s important to note that when the two come in, they always use the toilet first because, as the mum once explained to me, her daughter is big on routine and washing her hands before a meal is all part of the routine, and she won’t eat until she has washed her hands.

This has never been a problem… until our manager takes time off to have an operation. The head office assigns us a manager from another location to take over her duties. The temporary manager is always grumpy, which I get. Our job isn’t easy. But he’s also short and snappy with customers which often causes more issues and complaints. It’s only for a short while, so we all grin and bear it.

Like clockwork, the mum and daughter duo comes in. The manager watches them like a hawk as they make their way to the customer toilet. He scowls. When the pair comes out and makes an obvious beeline for the counter — which is the opposite direction to the door — he marches over and shouts at them in the most acidic way shouts:

Manager: “This isn’t a public toilet. They’re for paying customers!”

Mum: “We were just washing our hands.”

The daughter starts putting her hands on her ears, distressed about being yelled at.

[Colleague #1] quickly walks up to the manager.

Colleague #1: “They’re regulars. They were just—”

Manager: “That doesn’t mean they can use the toilet and not buy anything!”

Me: “They always use the toilet first and then buy something. Look— you can see she’s walking to the counter.”

The manager glares at both of us.

Manager: “They have to buy something first. It’s store policy.”

Colleague #1: “I’ve never heard of this policy before, and I’ve been working here for seven years.”

The manager looks like he wants to throttle us all.

[Colleague #1] and I are herded into the office where the manager screams at us, going on and on about how he is the manager and if he says it’s policy, it’s policy. All the while, [Colleague #1] and I try to explain about the mum and daughter pair. He isn’t having any of it.

Manager: “Get out of this store, now! You’re fired!”

As we were marched toward the doors, [Colleague #2], who had been holding down the fort alone without any help, handed the phone to the manager. He had an urgent call.

It turned out that [Colleague #2], terrified of the manager and the prospect of having to work alone on one of our busiest days, called our usual manager and explained the situation to her. She responded by asking to speak to the manager. Now.

I don’t know what our usual manager said to him, but I am guessing she reamed him out because he sulked for the rest of the day, refused to talk to any of us, and didn’t show up for work the next day. Neither my colleague nor I was fired, and we were able to get our regulars seated. We gave them their usual order for free as an apology, and much to everyone’s delight, the pair continued to keep coming despite the incident.

I really don’t know what the manager’s problem was, but we were glad he was gone. Who gets that worked up over customers washing their hands before eating?

I’m at a sandwich shop waiting my turn when an older woman cuts me in line. There’s no question of it being a mistake; she knows exactly what she is doing. She immediately crosses her arms and acts like she’s been waiting all day.

I am occupying myself on my phone while I wait and I’m sure she doesn’t think I would notice. I don’t care much, though; the line is moving fast so I don’t say anything.

The person behind the counter sees this and looks at me and then at their coworker with a “What do I do?” expression. Then, an evil little thought pops into my head. I raise my voice past the woman to the sandwich maker.

Me: “It’s okay. She obviously has less time than I do.”

The woman’s back goes rigid and then she slowly turns around to face me.

Customer: “What did you say?”

Me: “You must be running out of time; that’s the only reason I can think of for cutting someone in line. Either that or you’re just rude.”

The woman’s face goes blank, and I can almost see the gears in her head churn as she decides which comment to go after.

Customer: “Are you calling me old?”

Me: “I didn’t say that.”

Customer: “You just said I was old!”

Me: “I didn’t say that, but the fact that you jumped to that conclusion does say something about what you think, now, doesn’t it?”

For a split second, her face goes blank again, and then…

Customer: “You b****—”

She gets cut off by the sandwich maker at the till, in a clear, FIRM voice:

Sandwich Maker: “Madam! Please order your sandwich, or I will have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: “What?! She’s being rude to me!”

Sandwich Maker: “I haven’t heard her say anything rude, and she even let you cut her in line. Everyone here just heard you call her something nasty. What kind of bread would you like?”

The woman either realized she wasn’t going to get anywhere or was so thrown by the sudden change in the topic that she actually ordered her sandwich! I wish I could say the crowd cheered and I got a free cookie, but that was it. The angry, sulking way the woman ordered her sandwich was entertaining, though.

Related:
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 21
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 20
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 19
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 18
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 17

I work for a multi-national care company. I say care, but they do everything — adult care, child care, schools, hospitals, rehab, celebrity rehab, etc. — and it’s worldwide.

I work in the UK. Our area is in adult care. These are adults with learning disabilities which range from severe, needing twenty-four-hour support including personal care — washing, dressing, shaving, toilet, etc. — to those who only need minimal support like checking on their progress through the day.

I am working on a site with tenants who have their own bedrooms and share all the other areas of the house, including the toilet/shower room. The staff has to use the same toilet facility as the tenants; there’s no separate area.

One fine day, a message goes out to all the staff by text and email from our management team. Now, remember, this is a multi-billion-a-year company and a major provider of various types of health care, education, and child services. We even have sites in Dubai! This message went out, effective immediately, that the company was now making cost-cutting decisions and would no longer supply toilet roll for staff use.

Toilet roll! I mean, toilet roll? Come on! We were told to bring our own or ask the tenants to use theirs.

Now, in the UK, as staff, you cannot ever use a tenant’s property for your own use. This includes food, drinks, or other items, including toilet roll. It’s classed as theft and also can be covered under various types of abuse, unless there is a proviso in place, which is fully covered in writing, in detail. There were no provisions like this in place at any of our sites.

I was just dumbfounded at this directive, and I was annoyed. It’s a simple thing, but when you have no toilet paper, it’s no longer a simple thing!

For the first week, I took my own paper.

The following week, I forgot. Oh! Oh! Now I had a problem.

We had two tenants at this site, and one of them didn’t like me very much as I’m not the type of worker to just sit on my butt like so many others do in care. I do my best to support my clients in every way I can. This one didn’t like having boundaries and tried to get me moved out by making false allegations! Thank God for other staff as witnesses. I was not going to ask him for toilet roll; he would enjoy saying no.

I couldn’t ask the other one as he had limited understanding, and trust me when I say that you shouldn’t touch anything in his room without gloves on. Anything! So I was not going to use his toilet roll, either.

For the whole day, I clenched like you wouldn’t believe until I got home. I was angry. To be honest, all the staff was angry at this no-bog-roll mandate.

I decided to check out this management decision on toilet roll and see if it was legal. First off, I call ACAS (Advisory, Conciliation, and Arbitration Service). They were wonderful people, always handy with advice, and of course, once I explained the situation, we both had a laugh at the ridiculousness of it. They weren’t sure but advised me to check out the HSE (Health and Safety Executive) website to see if there was anything there. This HSE laid out all the legal requirements of employers and employees in the UK.

Eureka! I found what I needed. The HSE listed it as follows under workplace facilities that employers are required to supply:

“Employers have to provide:

• Enough toilets and washbasins for those expected to use them — separate facilities for men and women — failing that, rooms with lockable doors.
• Clean facilities — preferably with walls and floors tiled (or covered in suitable waterproof material) to make them easier to clean.
• A supply of toilet paper.
• For female employees, somewhere to dispose of sanitary dressings.
• Facilities that are well lit and ventilated.
• Hot and cold running water.
• Enough soap or other washing agents.
• A basin large enough to wash hands and forearms if necessary.
• A way of drying hands, such as paper towels or a hot air dryer.
• Showers where necessary, for particularly dirty work.”

I emailed the managers — all of them, from the operations director all the way down — explained the situation, and quoted the HSE, pointing out that it was a legal requirement to supply toilet paper. I was very professional.

Within two hours of my email, management sent out a staff-wide text and email stating that they would be supplying toilet roll for all staff at all sites.

You cannot imagine how relieved I was — no pun intended — and how big my smile was.

I’ve been staying with a friend in Cardiff and have just arrived at the station to catch my train home. An international rugby match has recently finished, and the traffic caused by this meant it took longer than anticipated to get to the station, and I’m in real danger of missing my train. As such, I am sprinting full pelt through the concourse, carrying my overnight bag over my shoulder.

As I run, I approach a group of rugby fans walking in the opposite direction. One of them, evidently thinking they’re about to pull the prank of the century, jumps out in front of me, yelling, “Boo!”

There’s absolutely no way I can stop in time, and I barrel straight into the hapless moron, sending him flying. I lose my balance, too, but somehow maintain my forward momentum, turn my stumble into a roll, get back to my feet, and continue on my way.

Behind me, I hear my wannabe roadblock protesting that I’ve hurt him, but one of his friends, laughing, tells him off for being a d**k and says that it was his own d*** fault.

I swing by the corner store for some eggs. The first, second, and third cartons are out of date. I manage to find one box that expires tomorrow. Luckily, I will use them up by then.

I pass a worker on his phone as I go to the till. He’s got an open box to stack the shelf but seems to be daydreaming.

Me: “Err, all of the other eggs are out of date.”

Staff: “Oh, you want me to throw these away?”

Me: “No, these are in date. The others are out of date.”

Staff: “Oh, okay.”

Me: “You might want to get rid of them before someone buys them.”

Staff: “Oh, yeah, good idea.”

He starts giggling. He doesn’t seem sarcastic, just out of it. I don’t know what else to do, so I go to the till.

Me: “Oh, and all the rest of the eggs are out of date.”

Cashier: “Really? Okay, thanks for letting us know.”

Me: “I did tell your colleague, but he seemed… busy.”

He rings me up and radios his colleague.

Me: “Unless that walkie-talkie reaches other planets, I don’t think you’re going to have much luck.”

He shook his head and tried anyway, getting more annoyed as he repeated himself. I passed the aisle again where the worker from earlier was still yet to negotiate a single item back onto the shelf, blissfully unaware of what that angry noise was.

I’m not sure what attracts them there, but every other new starter seems to last a few weeks and is never quite on the same planet as anyone else.