I left a negative tip once. It was mostly to let the server know I didn’t just forget to tip — she really was that bad — but partly because I was curious about what would happen.

We had absolutely slow and unfriendly service from the start. I can usually tolerate that; I’ve worked in restaurants before, and everyone has a bad day now and then. But what pushed it over the edge was when our server completely disappeared for half an hour, abandoning not only us but her other tables, as well, without explanation or apology, after I’d told her we had a family emergency and needed our food quickly wrapped to go!

When we finally got the food and the bill, the total was $48.01. I marked minus one cent (“$-0.01”) as the tip, totaled it to $48.00, signed, and left. I also made sure I kept my duplicate copy of the credit card slip.

Naturally, I was watching for my credit card statement to see how the bill had been handled. When the statement came, to my astonishment, the amount charged was $56.00 — the server had changed my minus one cent to an $8.00 tip for herself!

Of course, I still had my copy of the receipt and remembered every detail, so I challenged the excess tip amount with my credit card company and notified the restaurant management.

To the restaurant’s credit, the manager checked their copy of the receipt, saw the tip amount had been altered, and promptly fired the dishonest server. He was extremely apologetic and went overboard to retain us as customers, not only reversing the ENTIRE credit charge but also writing us a check for the amount of our bill — so our meal was basically double-comped! — and then giving us additional gift certificates for our trouble.

We did go back and had good experiences from then on.

I’m the only cashier on duty during the last hour of my store being open. I’ve just made the announcement that we will be closing in forty-five minutes. I have a headache threatening because a pair of children have been screaming almost non-stop for the last twenty minutes at least, and I am very sensitive to high-pitched noises. A different customer comes to my register.

Customer: “Hey there. You don’t look too happy.”

Me: “Good evening! Apologies, ma’am. My head hurts a bit.”

Customer: “Oh, don’t apologize. I hear those kids, too.”

At my register is a display of little bottles of a certain spray which is used on the toilet to prevent a “number two” from smelling bad. The customer examines these.

Customer: “How much is this?”

Me: *Checks* “The single bottle is [price], or there’s this pack of travel size for [price].”

Customer: *Very cheerfully* “Hmm… nah. They can smell my s***!”

I burst out laughing and thanked her for the much-needed humor.

One of our policies is that if we feel the pet in question will not be placed in a good environment, we can deny them service. A customer walks in wanting some fish.

Customer: “I want to add these two fish to my tank.”

He wants a red tail shark and a common Plecostomus. This is normally not an issue if you have a big enough tank for the fish to live in, as the common pleco gets to two feet long, and the red tail, if it doesn’t have enough space to swim, will stress out and die.

Me: “Sure thing, what size tank do you have for them?”

Customer: “I have a five-gallon. I also have a bumblebee cichlid in that tank.”

This combination of fish is a terrible idea.

Me: “Sorry, sir, unfortunately, putting those fish in the size tank you have won’t work out well. The pleco alone would produce enough ammonia in the tank to kill them all within a week. I can show you smaller species; plecos that would work better for what you have.”

Customer: “No, I want those two.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, unfortunately, I’m not going to get you those fish because the tank you have is too small for all three of them to fit comfortably.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. It’s my money; you can’t tell me what I can’t spend my money on.”

Me: “I understand, sir, but like I said before, I cannot sell you these fish.”

Customer: “Fine, then I’ll just go to your manager and get you fired.”

Me: “All right, good luck with that, sir, and have a nice day.”

He keeps trying to repeat that he will have me fired and how it’s communism for me not to sell him anything. I get annoyed.

Me: “Sir, I am done with this conversation. Have a nice day.”

He called me an a**hole and stormed out. I still work there, so I don’t think he made much progress.

When my wife and I were newlyweds, we got one of those, “You definitely have won a car! [in fine print] or one of these other cheap gifts,” ads for what was clearly a timeshare. I was young, but I had already gotten the wise advice to leave the checkbook behind before going to these things. We chanced it and made the long drive to see the place and collect our alleged gift.

The sales guy launched into his spiel about how wonderful the program was, all the cool perks of the place, yadda, yadda, yadda. Then, he started outlining just how “inexpensive” it was. Unfortunately for him, I can do math in my head and could do an impromptu cost/benefit analysis. I knew we’d never get any real value out of the sale.

Salesman: “So, here’s what I’m going to do for the two of you. You can have our deluxe package for [Deal #1]. What can you put down today?”

Me: “That’s not something that’s really in our budget.”

Salesman: “I see. Well, how about this? [Deal #2].”

Me: “No, I don’t think that’s going to work, either.”

Salesman: “Okay, then I can always offer you [Deal #3].”

Me: “No, I don’t think so.”

At this point, my wife was red-faced and looking very uncomfortable. The whole sales pitch was devolving and I was finding it easier to say “no” with each offer. And by “devolving,” I mean that the following transpired in less than thirty seconds:

Salesman: “How about [Deal #4]?”

Me: “No.”

Salesman: “[Deal #5].”

Me: “No.”

Salesman: “[Deal #6].”

Me: “No.”

Salesman: “[Deal #7].”

Me: “No.”

Salesman: “[Deal #8].”

Me: “No.”

Salesman: “[Deal #9].”

Me: “No.”

The salesman and coldly extended his hand.

Salesman: “Have a good day.”

We collected our cheap prize, and on the drive back home, my wife said she would have signed from the pressure. We never did get a tour of the property. Maybe he’s a good salesman, but it sure seemed like a weaselly business to me.

A client is calling because her online account is locked and she needs to reset the password. Like most password reset pages, the user is required to enter their new password once and then enter it into a second box below to confirm that the password is correct. I send her the password reset link and go over the requirements for setting up the new password.

This particular call has already taken twenty minutes and she has finally reached the password reset page.

Me: “Now that we’re here, go ahead and change the password.”

Caller: “It’s saying that the passwords don’t match!”

Me: “Okay, please click the ‘show password’ button so you can see where the passwords don’t match.”

Caller: “I did, but they’re the same!”

Me: “Did you possibly capitalize a letter in one that you didn’t in the other? The system is very case-sensitive.”

Caller: “No, the passwords match!”

Me: “Okay then, please clear out the password boxes and re-enter your password again.”

This goes on for another ten minutes with the caller repeating that the passwords match, and I give her the same instructions to clear the password boxes each time. She becomes more flustered each time. Then, this finally happens.

Caller: “Now the system is saying that the password can’t exceed thirty-two characters!”

Me: “Thirty-two char— Wait, have you been putting in all these passwords in the boxes without clearing them first?”

A brief pause.

Caller: “I promise I’m not stupid!”

Related:

The Final Word On Passwords, Part 12
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 11
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 10
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 9
The Final Word On Passwords, Part 8