(My mum is waiting for me in a popular coffee shop. She grabs a coffee while she waits for me to get off work nearby. After a while, she needs the restroom, so she leaves the table for a few moments. When she returns:)

Random Customer: “Hey! Cheeky cow! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Mum: “What?”

Random Customer: “You can’t just drink someone else’s coffee, lady!”

Mum: “What are you talking about? This is my coffee.”

Random Customer: “Er, no, it isn’t. I’m getting you kicked out!”

Mum: “It is my coffee. I just went to use the ladies; that’s all.”

Random Customer: “Yeah, right.”

(The random customer then cuts the queue to rant at the barista about my mum. The barista looks over, and tells the man that my mum did indeed pay for the drink, and is entitled to drink the coffee she paid for.)

Random Customer: “But I was here! She just walked up and started drinking it!”

Barista: “Yes, because she paid for it. You walked in just after she got up to go to the restroom. It is her coffee; now leave her alone, or you’ll have to leave.”

(This apparently embarrassed the random customer enough to shut up. Later, Mum dropped her walking stick to the floor, and the same random customer who accused her of drinking someone else’s drink came over, picked it up for her, and walked off without another word.)

(Several years ago my grandfather died after a short illness. My grandmother arranged the funeral for the Wednesday in the middle of week-long school holiday. This was unfortunate because my brother had arranged his first whole family holiday with just him, his wife and young children for that week and I had a holiday with a group of international friends who were coming from five different countries and who I had agreed to drive. This was also annoying because our corner of the family was the only one affected by school holidays. But it happened. So my brother and I worked out how to get to the funeral. This involved me getting to where he was staying with his family at midnight before the funeral and then leaving the following morning about five am to drive six hours to get to the funeral. He had a six-hour drive back, and I had another two hours on top of that to get back to where my friends are staying. We go to leave the wake at about two pm, only for one of our aunts to corner us.)

Aunt: “Oh, going already?”

Me: “Yeah, we have a long drive back.”

Aunt: “It’s such an important day; surely you can stay a bit longer.”

Me: “We are very tired; we set off at five to get here and it is going to be ten pm when I get back tonight.”

Aunt: “It’s not that far from [Home Town].”

Me: “No, we have driven from [Brother’s Holiday Location] this morning, and I need to get back to [My Holiday Location] this evening.”

Aunt: “Oh, your mum mentioned you had holidays booked, but no one honestly thought you would go. We thought you would just cancel and rearrange.”

Brother: “It’s my family’s first holiday. The kids are too young to come to the funeral, so why shouldn’t we go?”

Me: “And my trip was planned with five friends from different countries, I had agreed to drive everybody, and it’s in a really remote location. There is no way to rearrange it. I either went or missed out, and that seemed a bit unnecessary for one day.”

Aunt: “Well, isn’t that what travel insurance is for? You should have cancelled, claimed on your insurance, and rearranged.”

Me: “Travel insurance wouldn’t have… Never mind. I don’t have the energy. Anyway, we have a long drive, so we’re going.”

Aunt: “It’s just not right that you are leaving so early. It’s an important day for the family.”

Me: “And we worked hard to be here. Now we are going.”

Aunt: “I still think you should stay.”

Me: “Bye, [Aunt].”

(I am waiting to be served in a department store and there is an elderly gentleman at the counter in front of me. It quickly becomes obvious he is having a store card problem.)

Assistant #1: “I’m sorry, but we don’t deal with the card in store; it is all dealt with by [Credit Company], so I’m afraid I can’t help you. You need to call them directly, sorry.”

Customer: “But I paid it off in full, and I have now received a letter telling me the minimum payment is overdue and they will be passing my details on to debt collecting agency if I don’t pay it in seven days.”

Assistant #1: “I understand your frustration, sir, but as I said, you need to call them directly.”

Customer: “Why won’t you call them for me and talk to them?”

Assistant #1: “Because it is your account and they won’t talk to me.”

Customer: “It’s not my account; it belongs to my lady friend.”

Assistant #1: “Then she needs to call them and give them permission to talk to you.”

Customer: “So, you can call them and I can give you permission?”

Assistant #1: “I’m sorry, but the lady in question is the only one that can give the permission to them.”

Customer: “That’s why I want to speak to a manager; they can do this for me.”

Assistant #1: “I’m afraid she isn’t in today, as I have already explained, and she would tell you exactly the same information as I have.”

Customer: “But this is ridiculous. You should be able to help me.”

Assistant #1: “I’m sorry, but the card is provided by a third party; therefore, there is nothing I can do except advise your friend to contact the company via the number in the letter.”

(It is obvious that this is going to go on for a while longer and I seek out another till to pay at. The poor woman is being constantly polite, but I can sense her growing frustration at him not listening to her. I pay for my goods and then explain to the assistant what is taking place at the other till point.)

Assistant #2: “Should I go over and offer assistance?”

Me: “She is handling it well, but I work in retail, and I think she may be now fighting the urge to slap him.”

Assistant #2: *laughs* “I’ll go over and check in a few minutes that she is okay, and offer my assistance if she needs it.”

(I thanked her and went on my way. Some people really don’t listen to a word you say; I believe they think we say things like this to make our jobs harder so as to not help them!)

Related:
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 80
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 79
This Is Why We’re In A Recession, Part 78

(This is something I hear while waiting at some traffic lights. There is a preacher standing close to the crossing, and he clocks an elderly woman crossing the road.)

Preacher: “Hello, and how you are today? Would you like to know how you can have immortal life with Jesus? It starts—”

Woman: “Oh, no. I’m hoping I get into Hell, actually.”

Preacher: *gasps* “But why?”

Woman: “Because my brother’s down there for being gay. He died of AIDS in the eighties. I miss him.”

(She continued walking while the preacher stood, dumbstruck.)

(I work reception at a small hotel in a busy town with little parking available. Many of our guests come to reception to ask where to park before they check in.)

Me: “Hello, welcome to—”

Customer: “WHERE DO I PARK?”

Me: “Well, there are a few places around us. You can try the on-street parking just across from us on—”

Customer: *interrupting me* “How am I supposed to get my bags in here if I’m parked so far away?”

Me: “Well, you can unload your car in front of the hotel, and then parking is only just across the str—”

Customer: “No, you don’t understand. WHO’S GOING TO HELP ME GET MY S*** OUT OF THE CAR?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m happy to help you if you pull your car up to the pavement in front of the hotel.”

Customer: “But I need to park the car! WHERE AM I SUPPOSED TO PARK IT?”

Me: “What do you want to do first? Park your car, or let me help you get your things out?”

Customer: “THAT’S IT! I’M OVER THIS! I’M GOING TO GET IN MY CAR AND GO HOME AND CRY. I’VE HAD ENOUGH!” *storms out*

(About an hour later, she showed up, said nothing about her behaviour earlier, and checked in to the hotel like nothing happened. Later that evening, she came to reception and apologised to me for what she called a “personal breakdown.” All she needed was a nap and a cup of tea. We’ve all been there, and it takes a brave person to apologise!)