(Customer enters. She has three children under the age of 8 with her, and goes up to order while they go out to the kid play area.)

Coworker: Hi, what can I get for you?

Customer: (orders a long list of food, including a kid’s meal)

Coworker: What drink did you want with the kids meal?

Customer: I want a smoothie.

Coworker: Which flavour did you want, #1 or #2?

Customer: I’m not sure, can I pay for this all and then go check and come back?

Coworker: Yeah, no problem.

(She pays and heads outside. Coworker hasn’t put through the smoothie on the order, because it’s impossible for us to put through a smoothie of unspecified size and flavour on the system, so it hasn’t been paid for.)

Customer: Okay, she wanted a small #1 flavour with the meal.

Coworker: Awesome, I’ll make sure that gets on the meal. That’ll just be (price).

Customer: I already paid for it.

Coworker: No you didn’t, sorry. I didn’t put through the smoothie with what you paid for before, because I had to know what flavour it was to give you a price. But if you pay for it now it’ll equal out the same.

Customer: Well you made me think I’d paid for it! I’m not paying for it a second time.

Coworker: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mislead you. But you haven’t paid for it, so I can’t give it to you with the other food unless you do. You can check your receipt if you like.

Customer: I already threw it out. Get your manager!

(My coworker brings the manager over. Our manager on duty is a tiny woman who is less than 5 feet tall. She also has a slight accent, since she is from the Phillipines. The much taller customer makes a big deal of leaning over towards her to be taller and in her face when she arrives.)

Customer: She’s trying to charge me twice for the drink. This is absolutely unacceptable service. Are you even managing these kids here?

(At this point, quite a few of us have started coming closer to the front counter to see what’s happening since the woman is acting very threatening.)

Manager: I’m sorry, but she didn’t put through the drink before, so you haven’t been charged for it yet. I’m sorry about the confusion.

Customer: Then why did I pay full price for [kids meal] before?

Manager: She gave you the drink discount on your coffee, because it just gives you a set amount off. The total will be the same, after you pay for your smoothie.

Customer: Well this is just ridiculous! I want my coffee right now! (leans in close to coworker and tells her an order very very slowly)

(Coworker comes over to where I am working, since I am the barista.)

Coworker: She wants a small long black, with a shot of milk, hot.

(Since she specifies ‘hot’ I put a small amount of milk, since I can’t increase the water temperature beyond what the machine puts out. I take it over to her at the front counter.)

Customer: What is this? I asked for a shot of milk. Does this look like a shot of milk?!

Me: I’m sorry, did you want more or less milk?

Customer; (rolling her eyes) A shot of milk is 30ml of milk. Is this 30ml of milk? No. It’s barely a drop of milk. God, I can’t believe they call you a barista.

(I go away, and remake her coffee to bring it back. When I return, the woman is still arguing one-sidedly).

Customer: She spoke to me completely disrespectfully! I was led to believe that I had paid for it already!

Manager: Yes, I’m sorry about that.

Customer: Yeah, sure you are. Do you even speak English, huh?

Me: I have your coffee Ma’am.

(She tries it, and apparently finds it okay, because she thanks me and goes back to lecturing the manager. After about five more minutes of her telling the manager that she’s not managing well, and probably doesn’t speak English well enough to be a manager, she goes away and eats with her kids.

Twenty minutes later, she returns to the manager.)

Customer: Look, I’m sorry. I’m not an angry person, I don’t go off at shop staff. But that girl was totally out of line.

Manager: I appreciate the apology, thank you.

Customer: Seriously, if you’re the manager you need to act like the manager. The way she spoke to me was totally unacceptable, she didn’t make it clear at all.

Manager: I will make sure to-

Customer: And how was I to know the flavour anyway? You guys don’t even have a big menu board, it just flicks up on the screens!

Manager: We can’t control that, it’s the corporate decision.

Customer: I understand, but it’s silly the way you’ve all handled this. I got upset because all your staff was listening in on us, and standing around us. Do you think it’s acceptable for them to come and involve themselves? You’re meant to be in charge, you’re meant to stop them.

Manager: Yes, I’m sorry that it was handled badly-

Coworker: I am not an angry person, I’m not a bad person, I’m not mean to shop staff so I don’t want to come out of this feeling like I’m a bad person. You can see why I’m upset, can’t you? You see why this was unacceptable?

Manager: Yes, absolutely.

(Finally, after about ten minutes of assuaging her guilt, the customer went back to her kids. The manager left to pull herself together, as she was nearly in tears from the customer trying to intimidate her before and again then.)

(I’m in a hotel at the breakfast buffet, where they have a self-serving station for tea and coffee, complete with little teapots and milk jugs. I am filling my own teapot when I notice the last milk jug has just been taken. I wait a while for a staff member to become available and then flag them down.)

Me: “Excuse me, are there any more milk jugs in the kitchen?” *motioning where they have been sitting*

Waiter: “What do you want?”

Me: “Oh, for milk, a creamer, a milk jug?”

Waiter: *still looks confused*

Me: “About this big—” *motions with hands* “—and you put your milk in it for your coffee or tea?”

Waiter: “Oh, something to put your milk in? Okay.”

(She returns a couple of minutes later with a milk jug and hands it to me. She then immediately walks to the milk station and picks up the only bottle of milk, about three-quarters full, and walks away with it. I wait for her to return with the milk bottle a few minutes later, having added a bit more milk to it. She notices me waiting at the same spot, and says:)

Waiter: “Oh, you wanted milk, too?”

(I work in a science centre. We have a regular who comes in and is adamant that her kid is a genius, frequently telling us how her kid could attend the teenager-focused lectures and get more out of it than the teenagers, how she’s been teaching her friend’s kids maths, etc.; it’s just that she feels shy today and that’s why she isn’t speaking in the full sentences her mother says she can definitely do. This child is two, and while bright and attentive, she seems about on par with other two-year-olds. We’ve always wondered if the parent sincerely believes this and is a little delusional or if she’s lying for attention. We give her a wide berth as she gets upset if we treat her child like a normal two-year-old — offering her toys or colouring, speaking to her in a “patronising tone,” etc. But we overhear her talking to the other parents.)

Mother: “We came all the way here to look at the Christmas lights and they haven’t even got them on today? That’s ridiculous! Why even have them if you’re not going to switch them on?!”

Other Parent: “Well, they don’t run them during the day.”

Mother: “Well, that’s stupid. Some of us have small children. It’s not practical for us to come out at night. They should have them on during the day so we can enjoy them, too. [Child] was just devastated that the city doesn’t think she deserves to see the Christmas lights!”

([Child] is currently eating paper and chewing on texta lids and having a great time.)

Other Parent: “No, as in, they don’t have them on because you wouldn’t be able to see them during the day.”

Mother: *scoffs* “Of course we can’t see them; they’re not on.”

Other Parent: “No, because the lights wouldn’t be visible during the day. Even if they were on, you wouldn’t be able to see them, because the sun is so bright they would look like they’re off. There’s no effect during the day.”

Mother: “You’re being ridiculous; you can still turn lights on during the day. Electricity doesn’t just stop working when the sun is out.”

Other Parent: “Yes, I know that, but you wouldn’t be able to see… You know what? I think my son needs the bathroom. Excuse me.”

Mother: *to me* “God, can you even believe how stupid some people are?”

(New theory: her daughter is a genius because the bar is set very low.)

(It is just before Christmas and my parents and I have flown interstate to spend the holidays with my sister. We are all heading down the highway back to her house, with my sister and mum in the backseat chatting away and me sitting shotgun, leaving my dad driving. We end up taking an exit too soon. Had my dad taken the correct exit, the speed limit we are traveling at, 100km/h, would have continued for some time. But instead, the speed limit for the exit we do take rapidly drops down to 80, and my dad, in his flustered state at having gotten lost, misses all the speed signs. Lo and behold, there are the cops. We get pulled over.) 

Officer: *to my dad* “You were doing 96 in an 80 zone.”

Dad: “We are visiting my sister, and I am unfamiliar with the roads.”

(When my flustered dad ends up starting to repeat himself, the officer cuts him off saying that he will be back after checking his license. In Western Australia, if you’re found speeding at up to 9km/h over you only get a $70 and no demerit points; however, at 10 to 19 over it’s $330 and two demerit points. Considering it’s just before Christmas, it’s double-demerit point season, leaving my dad facing a $660 fine and four demerit points. My mum is now having a go at my dad, getting him worked up, and he proceeds to enter what we call “the bombastic mode,” and as such, all information will go in one ear and out the other.)

Officer: *returns to the car* “Because you are travelling interstate and visiting family, and it’s the holiday season, I’m going to be lenient with the charge and only book you at the lower offence: $140 and zero demerits.”

(Bombastic Mode Dad proceeds to not take a word of this in and starts arguing with the officer, again saying how we had gotten lost etc. I lean over, grab his arm, look him dead in the eye, and say:)

Me: “Shut the f*** up.”

(I then look over at the officer, smile, and say:)

Me: “Thank you, officer. My dad really does appreciate you only fining him for a minor offence and not the higher offence, for which—” *death glares my dad* “—HE IS 100% AT FAULT. I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a pleasant day, and don’t have to deal with any more morons today.”

(I release my tight grip on his arm and sit back. My dad then sheepishly takes the ticket and his license and thanks the officer, and the officer walks back to the patrol car.)

Mum: “You’re a f****** idiot.”

I’m in the bedroom putting away clothes while my fiancé is in the kitchen washing dishes, the sink is located next to the window where our 8 month old Great Dane puppy likes to watch.

Fiancé: *yelling* “OH GOD WHY?!”

Me: * calls out to make sure he’s ok* “what happened? Are you alright in there?”

Fiancé: “The dog just farted outside and it blew through the window and hit me in the face!”

Me: “I’m going to stay in here then”

Fiancé: “oh f**k I farted to! It’s like a cocktail of death in here. First he farted then I farted and oh god bleggg”

He learnt to shut the window while doing dishes after that