(I’m a ticket-taker in a major metropolitan movie theatre. It’s the opening weekend of a big superhero movie and it is incredibly busy. Our escalator is currently broken, but we offer guests our elevator. A woman refuses this offer, as she claims she can walk up stairs. I rip her ticket and then I hear a loud alarm.)

Woman: “WHY WON’T THE ESCALATOR WORK?!”

(She proceeds to keep hitting the emergency stop button, setting off the buzzer alarm.)

Me: “Ma’am, the escalator is broken and cannot be turned on. If you would like, the elevator is just across the lobby.”

Woman: “I WILL NOT BE TREATED LIKE A CHILD! MAKE THE MOVING STAIRS WORK!”

(I tell her to calm down and that our elevator is across the lobby. She decides that flapping her arms like a bird will make the escalator work.)

Woman: “MAKE THEM WORK! MAKE THEM WORK!”

(Her flapping motion eventually causes another guest to get seriously hurt and we have to call security. She refuses to move, and the police need to be called.)

Me: *to another guest after the woman is removed* “I apologize, sir. I didn’t realize we were doing a live performance of The Birds tonight.”

Guest: “Oh, that’s fine. I couldn’t get tickets to [Superhero Movie], so it made my night!”

(I am a supervisor. It is about an hour after our peak period finishes. Two people walk into the store: one female, one male, both acting a little odd. I decide to take their order instead of the cashier. About halfway through the order, the woman pulls out a $50 note, but it is obviously fake. She tries to pay with it.)

Me: “I am sorry, but this note is fake.”

Woman: “Really? It can’t be; I just got it out of the ATM!”

Me: “It is obviously fake and I have to confiscate it.”

Woman: “Then the ATM is giving out fake notes! Give it back so I can complain!”

Me: “You have tried to pay with fraudulent currency; by law I can’t give it back. Unless you have any real money with you, I cant process this order.”

(The woman looks in her purse, and I notice that she has a large amount of similar-looking $50 notes.)

Woman: “But what are you going to do with the food?”

Me: “Unless you pay for it, it will be handed out to another customer that orders the same item.”

(She turns around and walks to the male she came in with and starts talking, while I make my way to the office to put the fake note into the safe.)

Cashier: *to me* “Hey, you might want to come out; the guy is looking really pissed off.”

(I walk out, but keep behind the bench behind the front counter.)

Guy: “Give me my f****** money back!”

Me: “We have the right to confiscate that money.”

Guy: “It’s my f****** money; get it here now!”

Me: “I can’t legally do that; it is now property of the federal police.”

Guy: “You will give it back or I will f****** make you.”

Me: “I can’t.”

(He proceeds to pick up the donation box and tug on it. Then he notices the chain attaching it to the counter, and he throws it at me. I don’t move, as there is no way it can hit me.)

Guy: “Give me my f****** money back!”

Me: “It’s fake; I can’t.”

Guy: “Well, give me my f****** fake $50 back!”

(He stormed out the front door.)

(I’m a customer in this one, although thankfully not the offender. On my way home from my job, I sometimes like to stop in a convenience store to satisfy my gigantic sweet tooth with the excellent chocolate they sell there. One evening is very busy, and unfortunately the line for their register is horrendously long. I’m standing at the back of the line, when a middle-aged mom rather rudely cuts the line in front of a taller woman.)

Taller Customer: “Excuse me! That was very rude!”

(The cutter doesn’t acknowledge her complaints. The taller one huffs indignantly and raises her voice.)

Taller Customer: “Ex-cuse me! You cut the line! I demand my spot back!”

Shorter Customer: “Leave me alone, you nosy c***!”

(The taller woman is aghast at this, and she immediately starts shrieking at the top of her lungs to all and sundry.)

Taller Customer: “THIS B**** CUT THE LINE, AND NOW SHE’S SWEARING AT ME! MANAGER! I DEMAND TO SEE THE MANAGER!”

(The shorter woman begins screaming at the tall woman just as loudly in Spanish, of which only an obscenity is recognizable. One of the store employees walks over to try to break them up and calm them down.)

Employee: “Please, can we both calm down here? What’s going on?”

Taller Customer: “THIS F****** BORDER-JUMPER CUT THE LINE, AND NOW SHE’S SCREAMING AT ME! I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! I DEMAND YOU REMOVE HER AT ONCE!”

Shorter Customer: “F*** YOU! I HAVE TWO KIDS, AND I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE TO CATCH A DOCTOR’S APPOINTMENT!”

Taller Customer: “THAT’S NO F****** EXCUSE!”

(The poor employee is vainly trying to talk over them to get them to shut up. They’ve completely blocked up the line.)

Employee: “Please, could the two of you step out of the line so we can work this—”

(The tall customer rounds on him.)

Taller Customer: “YOU’RE TAKING THIS B****’S SIDE? I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! WHERE’S YOUR MANAGER? I WANT TO SPEAK TO YOUR MANAGER!”

Employee: “Listen, ma’am, I honestly don’t know what happened, but you’re blocking the line and we need you to step out so we can work this out.”

Taller Customer: “F*** YOU! YOU’RE JUST REWARDING HER BAD BEHAVIOR!”

Employee: “Ma’am, if y—”

Taller Customer: “I SHOP HERE EVERY WEEK! I’M YOUR BEST CUSTOMER! WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING YOUR BEST CUSTOMER?”

(The short woman has had enough, and drags her two kids out behind her.)

Employee: “Ma’am, could you please calm—”

Taller Customer: “H*** NO, I WON’T CALM DOWN! YOU’VE JUST LOST YOUR BEST CUSTOMER! I’M NEVER SHOPPING HERE AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME? NEVER AGAIN!”

(With that, she FINALLY stomped out in a huff, leaving the poor employee utterly bewildered and a line of people finally moving again.)

I usually have very vivid dreams — so vivid that sometimes I wake up confused as to why I’m not where I was in the dream. Tonight, I dreamed that my husband turned evil and came home with an evil Superman to destroy our books. I, of course, couldn’t let that happen, so I started punching them, kicking them, and trying to fight them, but they were ridiculously strong and nothing worked. At some point in the dream, they burned the books, so I poured some water over them. The bad guys then proceeded to spill an entire bucket of water over all the books, even those not burnt or burning.

I told my “evil” husband that he wasn’t allowed to touch the books unless he treated them with respect.

He made a noise, and then I smacked him in the face, only to realize with a start that it was a dream, because I actually smacked him in reality. He jumped up, super startled, and I could only apologize.

As I related to him the dream and the reason behind smacking him, we couldn’t stop laughing about the whole thing.

(I just clocked in and am being a good team player by taking food to a table that I am not serving.)

Me: “Hi there, folks! I have your food here: mac-n-cheese for the little guy, a double with cheese, double with cheese no pickle, chili bowl, and a double no cheese. Is that everything? Do you all need any condiments or refills?”

(As I am standing and waiting to see if they need anything, something comes flying at me and lands on my empty tray. I realize that it is a bun. One of the ladies is throwing the bun, lettuce, tomato, and pickle onto my tray, leaving only the patties on her plate. She seems upset.)

Me: “Is there anything I can get you, ma’am?”

Customer: “I told them not to put any d*** sauce on my burger!”

Me: “Oh, um, well, I’m sorry about that. I can have the kitchen remake it for you; it will only take a cou—”

Customer: “No! I’m hungry now! If you put the order in right the first time, it wouldn’t have happened.”

(She says this even though I look nothing like their actual server.)

Me: “Is there a different meal I ca—”

Customer: “NO!”

Me: “Okay, your server will be with you in a moment.”

(I go and show my manager the mess on my tray and uniform and tell her about the complaint. She tries to talk to the lady, too, and ends up giving her a free dessert. Thankfully, it isn’t her, but her son who paid, and he seems to be upset with her, as well. Before she leaves, she comes up to the server-only area to talk to the manager.)

Customer: “I just want to say that you have such wonderful employees who are just so accommodating!”

(After she leaves, the manager laughs.)

Manager: “Yeah, accommodating! Come eat here and you get to throw food at the employees.”

(She gave me a free dinner after my shift that night.)

This story is part of the dessert day roundup!

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