(I work as a delivery driver for a café. My hat, shirt, and car all have the company name and logo. I pull up to a customer’s house and knock on the door, holding a bag of food that also has the company name on it.)

Me: “Hello! If I could just get your signature right here on your receipt, that would be great!”

Customer: “There’s no soliciting here! You need to leave right now!” *slams door in my face*

Me: *knocks again*

Customer: *opens door to yell at me again*

Me: “Ma’am, I’m from [Company]. I have your food order.”

Customer: “Oh!” *signs paper, takes food, doesn’t tip*

(I’m a police officer. A woman in her mid-50s calls 911 stating she has been robbed at one of our local stores and she needs the police quick, and then she hangs up abruptly. Naturally, the dispatcher puts out an urgent call and we all drop what we’re doing. I am first to arrive, followed by two other officers from my department, several sheriff’s vehicles, and a highway patrol trooper who was on the highway next to the location. We get there and start looking around for the victim when I see a woman with her hand in the air, waving at us.)

Woman: “Yoo-hoo! Officers, over here!”

(A deputy and I walk over to her while the others prepare to do a search. One of the deputies who responded is getting his dog ready to track.)

Me: “It’s our understanding you’ve been robbed, ma’am? How long ago was it? What did they rob you of? Which direction did they go afterward?”

(She replies that it happened about ten minutes ago, that they robbed her of about $5, and that they are still inside the store! The deputy and I both look at each other.)

Deputy: “No, he can’t be that stupid.”

(I whistle over to the other guys and tell them that the suspect fled into the store, so they gather around so we can get more details on what the person looked like.)

Me: “What did he look like? What was he wearing?”

Woman: “Oh, he’s wearing a store uniform. It was the manager, [Manager].”

Me: “Wait. You’re telling us the manager came outside, robbed you, and then went back to work?”

Woman: “No! He robbed me inside the store. He wouldn’t accept my $5-off coupon for my purchases, so he robbed me of $5. I want him arrested, and you can be sure I am going to be calling his bosses to get him fired, but I can’t imagine him having a job after you guys arrest him, anyway.”

(The deputy and I exchange a look of disbelief, and we tell the other officers they can resume patrol as we have the situation under control.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I am going to go inside and get his side of the story since we got your side.”

(I walk in and the manager is already waiting for me. He is waiting to see if we need anything from him, as he thought there was an incident in the parking lot. He had no idea we were there about him. I tell him why are there and what she said and everything.)

Manager: *does an actual facepalm* “Oh, my god. She actually did it? That woman is f****** bonkers. We have issues with her every time she comes in, trying to use fake coupons she finds online, and when we tell her they can’t be used, she always says she’s going to call 911 and say I robbed her.”

(We talked to the cashier who checked her out, and she confirmed the woman was nuttier than a fruit cake. I walked back outside. I didn’t even have to say anything; the deputy knew by the look on my face to hook the lady up with some shiny new bracelets. She promptly started fighting with us and ended up on the ground after she tried to back-kick the deputy between the legs. As we dragged her to the deputy’s cruiser, she was screaming about how the police never believe her when she tells them she’s been robbed, and just carrying on. She was charged with misusing the 911 system, filing a false police report, and assaulting a law enforcement official. Last I heard, she spent a little bit of time in jail for that stunt and was banned from just about every store in the area as she caused trouble at all of them.)

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(It’s a really busy day at the restaurant where I work. There’s a line out the door, and the moment a table gets cleared off it gets filled again. I’m serving a section that’s kind of separated from the rest of the restaurant. There’s one table that’s in a little nook at the back. There are tables straight across from it and it’s long enough that if you need to sweep or vacuum under it you need to move the tables across from it in order to pull that table out. One of my tables earlier in the day has somehow managed to smash about three glasses on the table in the nook. Because the table across is full, I can’t pull the table out to get all the glass from underneath — they got glass EVERYWHERE — so I warn my manager and the rest of the staff not to seat anyone there. Then, I clean the glass shards from the table, booth seats, and the floor in front of the table as much as I can, just as I was told to do. It is later in the day. A new family is seated at the table across from the nook table. For most of their meal, everything is fine and pleasant. I notice at one point they have let their young daughter — about five — start to run around, climbing on other tables and crawling on the floor. I warn her once not allow her kid to run around and climb on tables because it is dangerous and she could get hurt. Near the end of the meal, as I’m clearing away dishes, the mother stops me by grabbing my arm.)

Mother: “Excuse me. That’s really dangerous, you know. There are glass slivers on that table. My daughter could get hurt.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, some customers broke some glasses earlier. I thought I had it cleaned as best I could at the time, but that’s one of the reasons we don’t want children crawling and climbing on tables where they aren’t seated. I’ll clean the table further.”

Mother: “Well, do it fast; it’s really not responsible to leave it like that!”

(I look at the table. There are no slivers that I can see on the table, but I do spot some I’ve missed on the booth seats. I grab a cloth, anyway, and come back to wipe down the seats when I see her daughter is now crawling around UNDERNEATH the table with the broken glass. When the daughter sees me she climbs out from underneath and I begin wiping the seats.)

Mother: “I knew it! Excuse me!”

(I turn back to her.)

Me: “Yes.”

Mother: “My daughter got hurt because of your incompetence!”

(The mother then holds her daughter’s hand out; she has a tiny cut on her hand about the length and width of a small papercut.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I—“

Mother: “I don’t want to hear it. If you’d cleaned properly in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Get me a bandaid now, and I want to speak to your manager.”

(The daughter is looking really uncomfortable and trying to pull away, telling her mother she wants to go play. I apologize again and go to get a bandaid and tell my manager what happened. He tells me he’ll be with them in a minute and I give the bandaid to the mother. Everything seems fine until I notice that the daughter is back playing at the nook table.)

Me: “Ma’am, as you already pointed out, and as I’ve already told you, it’s not safe for your daughter to be climbing and playing at that table.”

Mother: “She can do what she wants!”

(My manager arrives and sends me off to do other tasks while he speaks with the customer. A few minutes later, my manager is telling me that he’s going to have other servers cover my tables so I can go scrub down the tables to make sure all the glass is gone. I assume everything has been worked out with the mother… until I hear her shouting again.)

Mother: “D*** it, your stocking is ripped, too! You!” *points at me* “You are in sooo much trouble. If you had just done as you’re supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. My baby wouldn’t have been hurt. I’m calling the cops on you! I’m going to have you arrested for assault, you b****! You left glass there on purpose!”

(I just decide to ignore her and go tell my manager what’s happened now. The daughter isn’t bleeding from the leg, and I am just about at the point of yelling back at her about watching her child instead of letting her run around, so I figure it is best to just not engage her. My manager agrees and sends me back out to keep scrubbing the table. He comes out to talk to them and offers them 20% off their bill. They seem content and he walks away.)

Mother: *turning back towards me as I clean* “D*** useless b****, trying to hurt my daughter. You’re going to be arrested, you know. I’m going to charge you with assault. Aggravated assault even. What, are you deaf? Are you even listening to me?”

(I continue to ignore her and just keep cleaning.)

Grandmother: “What are you doing with that jam, [Mother]?”

Mother: “This lazy b**** doesn’t want to clean, so I’m going to give her something to clean. I’m going to open every one of these and smear them on the tables!”

Grandmother: “Stop it; you’re making a scene.”

Mother: “No!”

(She then proceeded to open three or four packs of jam and smear them on the table and seats. Just as I was about to go tell my manager what was happening, she stood up and rushed to the front where customers are supposed to pay. She then continued to rant to the manager about my poor service, cleaning job, attitude, etc. She then demanded he make it up to her daughter for getting injured by giving her a free stuffed animal and giving them their meal free. In the end, the manager gave them the 20% off and a free toy. With them gone I was finally able to pull out the nook table and properly clean underneath.)

(I was involved in an incident that left me anxious around strangers. I’m barely able to talk to them and I really don’t want to be touched by them. I have been getting help, but I still have to have family or a friend go with me whenever I go out. I’m out shopping with one of my closest friends. I’m deciding on what chips I want when he says he is going to the next aisle to grab some water. I’m okay with this since it should only be less than a minute before he gets back. As soon as he goes around the corner, a middle-aged woman comes up to me.)

Lady: “Excuse me. Can you tell me where the [item] is?”

(I’m feeling anxious already, but she was polite so I manage to answer her.)

Me: “Sorry. I don’t know where that is.”

(Her politeness disappears immediately.)

Lady: *raising her voice* “What do you mean, you don’t know? What kind of employees do they hire here that don’t know where anything is?!”

(The employees wear long-sleeve, white dress shirts with a tie, black slacks, and either a vest or apron. I’m wearing a white hoodie and black jeans.)

Me: *starting to shake and tear up* “I don’t work here. I—“

Lady: *cutting me off* “BULLS***! I saw you help that young man just now.”

(I’m now beginning to panic when I see my friend come around the corner and begin to walk toward him.)

Lady: *grabs me by the arm* “DON’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME, YOU LAZY B—“

(That’s the last thing I hear. I’m not 100% sure what happens but my friend tells me that as soon as the lady turns me, I punch her in the nose. Then I kind of black out for a little while. My friend tells me this is what happens after I punch her.)

Lady: *now holding her bloody nose* “CALL THE COPS! THIS F****** EMPLOYEE JUST ASSAULTED ME!”

Friend: *checking on me* “She’s not an employee; she’s a customer. And you grabbed her first.”

Lady: “DON’T YOU LIE FOR HER!”

(A manager comes over with the security guard and an employee who is another friend of mine.)

Manager: “What’s going on?”

Lady: “THIS B**** PUNCHED ME FOR NO REASON!”

Friend: “You grabbed her first.”

(The cops are called, and I begin to calm down. I see the employee holding my hand trying to calm me down.)

Me: *disoriented* “What’s going on?”

Employee: *calmly and quietly* “It’s okay. Can you tell me what you remember right now?”

Me: *starting to hyperventilate when I see the lady* “That woman grabbed me.”

Employee: *rubbing my hand* “It’s okay. The cops will be here and it will all be sorted out.”

(I just want to go home now. I pull my knees up to my chest and I start crying. My friend sits next to me and tries to calm me down. The lady still has to get her jabs in.)

Lady: “You know you f***** up, don’t you?”

Manager: “Miss, could you please leave her alone?”

Lady: “NO! THIS F****** B**** ASSAULTED ME AND SHE KNOWS SHE’S GOING TO JAIL! THAT’S WHY SHE IS CRYING!”

(My friend has had enough. I have never seen him so mad.)

Friend: “No! She is not. You’re the one who grabbed her, because you’re too stupid to listen when someone says they are not an employee.” *points to cameras and the end of the aisles* “And those will prove it.”

(The lady now has a worried look on her face and starts to walk back out of the aisle toward the exit, but the cops show up. The manager leads the cops, my friend, and the lady to his office to review the tapes while the employee stays with me.)

Me: *crying* “I want to go home.”

Employee: “As soon as they let [Friend] leave, we can go. How about when this is done I go get some [my favorite ice cream] and stop by [my favorite pizza place] and we watch some Disney movies?”

Me: “Don’t you still need to work?”

Employee: “No, I just got off. I can leave whenever we’re done here.”

(I agreed, and [Friend] came out and asked if I was ready to go. It took me a few more minutes to get up and go. On our way home, my friend told me that after they reviewed the tape and he explained how I don’t like to be touched, the cops were very understanding. The lady wasn’t, and she flipped out, slapping my friend and kicking the manager. The lady was arrested and that’s the last I heard about her. My employee friend came over later with the ice cream and pizza and we watched Disney movies for the rest of the night.)

(Lately, our store has started a “buy one bag, get two cans free” deal on several dog and cat food brands. However, corporate had the brilliant idea of designing all the sales signs so the “buy one” and “get two free” parts were in large, prominent writing, while the “bag” and “cans” parts were in tiny writing. Sure enough, I end up having to deal with all the angry customers, as a result.)

Cashier: *paging* “Manager to register one.”

(I rush over and see a lady yelling at my cashier. Meanwhile, her four children are running around the store making an even louder fuss.)

Me: “How can I help?”

Customer: “The price is wrong on these bags of dog food! It’s supposed to be buy one, get two free!”

Me: “Sorry, it’s actually buy one bag, get two cans free.”

Customer: “No, it’s not! I’m an extreme couponer! I know what I’m talking about! It’s buy one bag, get two bags free! I’ll show you!”

(I let her lead me to one of the sales signs.)

Customer: “See? It says it right there!“

Me: “It says, ‘Buy one bag, get two cans free.’ See?”

(I pointed at the words, “bag,” and, “cans.” In response, she THREW her bags of dog food at me and stormed out of the store with her children. For some reason, she took an empty cart out with her and left it in the middle of the parking lot when she drove away. Payback, I guess? I can understand being frustrated at the misleading sales signs, but you’d think an “extreme couponer” would have the sense to read the fine print… and also maybe not throw heavy products at people.)