I work at an aquarium near the touch pool; a simulated rock pool with crabs and sea anemones the kids can touch, situated right above the open topped Black Tipped Reef Shark and Moon Ray tank. That’s right, I said open topped. With about 1.3-metre-thick glass sides. It’s filled with water, sharks, and stingrays.

About three times a day I have this conversation:

Me: “Ma’am! Please do not dangle your baby over the shark tank!”

The parents were not impressed by my adherence to basic common sense. I got thrown incredulous looks, angry retorts, the lot. The crowning glory though was the dad who informed me:

Dad: “It’s fine, you can just jump in there after them.”

Me: “Sir, I am a 5ft 2′ minimum wage worker, you could not pay me to jump in shark infested water to save your baby that you just dropped.”

Apparently, booking a seat on a train is not a real booking if someone else decides to sit there. I was travelling from Edinburgh to London by train and had a booked window seat with a table.

I got on the train to find four guys sitting at the table. The one in my seat — which was clearly marked as booked — refused to move as he was with his friends, and the train was packed. The ticket collector passed and I asked him to help.

He asked the guy to move, but he refused, and somehow, that was that.

Me: “So, what now?”

Ticket Collector: “You can find another seat, but I have no power to move him. Only the police can move him, and they will not turn up just to move someone out of a seat.”

There were no seats free in the carriage and probably not many free on the train, so standing all the way to London was a possibility.

Me: “I’m going to take a seat in first class.”

Better surroundings, power sockets, and free tea and coffee!

Ticket Collector: “You can’t sit there; you don’t have a booking.”

Me: “Well, you could call the police to move me, but apparently, they won’t turn up to move someone out of a seat.”

I had a lovely trip with power for my laptop and a wide, comfy seat.

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CONTENT WARNING: Mention Of Suicide

I work as a tech support agent for a very well-known retailer in the UK. I’ve worked here for about two weeks. A customer calls in regarding their appliance. We get through the basics and get to the bottom of what’s wrong.

Me: “Unfortunately, our engineers are currently on a bit of a backlog, so the soonest we can get someone out is in ten days. Shall I book that—”

Customer: “Ten days?! What the f*** do you expect me to do for ten f****** days?!”

Me: “Firstly, please do not swear; we operate with a three-strike policy, after which we—”

Customer: “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t say, you t**t!”

Me: “Ma’am, please can you refrain from such language? As I was saying, the earliest we can get someone out to you is in ten days. I can put you on a cancellation list, but I can’t confirm a sooner date for you.”

Customer: “No, you will get me a date in the next forty-eight hours, or I will have your stupid f****** a** fired!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, this is your third warning; you need to stop using language like that. Now, as I said, I will get you on a cancellation list, so if another customer cancels their repair, you can get that slot instead, but I can’t guarantee this for you. What time would you be available on that date?”

Customer: “I won’t be at all, considering I will have killed myself. I hope you know, if I kill myself, that it is your f****** fault.”

At this point, I just freeze. I just recently lost a close friend to suicide, and hearing this really strikes me; I do feel guilty as I thought I could have done more for them.

Me: “…”

Customer: “You won’t hang up on me now will you, huh? Now, get me an earlier appointment.”

At this time, I am unaware, but for the last few minutes, my training supervisor has been monitoring the call, and at this point, they decide to intervene.

Supervisor: “No, my agent will not be terminating this call. However, as you have stated that you intend to take your own life, I must advise you that we have notified the authorities as we take these cases very seriously, and if we believe that you may be a danger to yourself or others, we must ensure your safety. Now, however, I will be terminating this call myself. Thank you for calling. Goodbye.”

I take a minute to compose myself.

Me: “I’m sorry, [Supervisor]. I didn’t know how to deal with that.”

Supervisor: “[My Name], don’t be silly. You are a new agent, and you managed to compose yourself well!”

That supervisor is the reason I stayed at that job through calls like that, and now I work with them more closely in an admin role. I still have the odd customer call, but helping agents deal with bad customers makes me feel so much better.

I was working my new job, and I had been told all of the procedures necessary to do it well. We gave out discount cards so if you purchased six coffees, your next one was free.

I was working the bottom window. The order taker had put through the correct size for a free drink using the free coffee discount. I got the drinks ready and handed them out.

The customer then looked at me angrily.

Customer: “Why is it a medium drink? I paid for large ones!”

I then looked at their order and receipts again.

Me: “You used your discount to get the free coffee; that size is medium. You haven’t paid for these drinks; it’s free.”

Maybe it was my seventeen-year-old mind being so blunt about it, but those had always been the rules as far as I was taught.

Customer: *Disgusted* “Well, you are just a c**t, then!”

Then, he took the coffee from me and drove away!

I closed the window and turned round to my coworkers, who were shocked at what had happened since it was my first day. I just laughed.

Me: “Well, I guess I am a c**t for not giving those p**sies what they wanted.”

I have now been working there for five years, and so far, the customer has never been right!

I work for an STD clinic, and I am handling intake. A guy comes up after having filled out a form. I run through some basics and then hand him a vial. I get the impression he just wants to get this over with, but he nods that he understands.

Me: “Please use one of the rooms to your left, place the vial with the sample inside the secured bag, and place the secured bag in our biological drop-off box.”

He nods and heads off. A few minutes later, he’s back and looks a bit frustrated.

Patient: “You could at least have had some magazines or something! I had to load up some stuff on my phone to finish!”

I am confused for a moment, but then it dawns on me.

Me: “Sir, we needed a urine sample.”

The patient’s brain takes longer than it should to process the information I have just provided.

Patient: “You might not want to use what I just… ah… deposited.”

He came back a few hours later after drinking some water. I found the first sample and… disposed of it.