(The store I work for sells various types of fried chicken, wings, and tenders. A former customer is notorious for coming in late around closing and complaining that the product is sold out or past expiration and unable to be sold. Our butcher station is located next to the chicken holding station. Our butcher has cut steaks into heart shapes for people to celebrate Valentine’s Day with.)

Customer: “Do you have any tenders left?”

Employee: “No, they all sold out earlier.”

Customer: “This is f****** ridiculous; every time I come in there are none of the ones I want left!”

Employee: “I’m sorry. Unfortunately, they are the most popular and tend to sell out first. If you’d like to call ahead in the future, we will be sure to put some aside and make you a fresh batch.”

(Unsatisfied with this, she huffs out of the store. The following night she comes in and I cringe, seeing how the exchange is going to go. This time she has her boyfriend with her. The woman goes to the butcher station to browse our selection of steaks. She picks one up and is holding it. Her boyfriend quietly comes to the chicken station and sees that the chicken she desires is once again out. He approaches her. I’m watching to see how this unfolds. Shouting in my direction she yells:)

Customer: “This is f****** ridiculous; I’ve had it! I’m never coming in again and it’s your fault!”

(She then rips the car keys out of her boyfriends hands and throws the heart-shaped steak in my direction. Both customers leave in an angry manner.)

Coworker: “At least it was heart-shaped! She left you a token of her love!”

(God bless you, poor man, and good riddance, crazy chicken lady.)

(I’m a supervisor at a grocery store chain. At my store, we sell two different kinds of store gift cards: one that’s open-ended, and one that’s restricted to grocery items only. The open card can be used to purchase tobacco and alcohol, but the restricted card can not. We put refunds onto the restricted cards when the customer doesn’t have a receipt and the refund is over a certain amount, to deter theft. On this day, one of my cashiers had taken a no-receipt refund that needed to be put on a gift card before I got to work, and when I’m clocked in she warns me that the customer was unhappy with getting a gift card and not cash, and that he said he would call to complain. A few hours later, I take a phone call and have the following conversation.)

Customer: “I have this gift card for your store, and it says something on it that I don’t understand.”

Me: “Can you please read it to me?”

Customer: “It says, ‘Not to be used for tobacco/alcohol purchases.’ What does that mean? I can’t buy booze with this?”

Me: “That’s correct.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***. So, I can come to your store and buy anything in your store with this, except alcohol? What kind of gift card is that?”

Me: “It’s a restricted gift card, sir. We have standard gift cards that are open, and then restricted gift cards.”

Customer: “What the f***? That’s stupid. Can I come in and have you approve me to buy alcohol with it, anyway?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but the register will automatically deduct the alcohol from the total when you use the card, leaving you with a cash balance owed.”

Customer: “Wait, you said you have real gift cards, right? Can I buy one of them with this card?”

Me: “No, sir, that’s illegal and also against store policy, anyway.”

Customer: “That’s f****** r*****ed. This card is f****** useless. What the hell am I supposed to do with this piece of s*** if I can’t buy alcohol with it?!”

Me: “Well, you could buy food with it.”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “F*** you!” *hangs up*

(This happens to my friend who works at a popular sandwich shop during high school. A customer in her mid- to late-50s walks in.)

Friend: “Hello, ma’am! Welcome to [Sandwich Shop]. What can I get for you today?”  

(The customer slowly walks up to the counter and stares blankly at my friend, not saying a word.)  

Friend: “Is there anything I can help you with, ma’am?”  

Customer: *snaps awake and cheery* “Yes. Could I please get the Italian hero with a medium drink and cookies?”  

Friend: “Absolutely!”  

(My friend then proceeds to do the usual game of twenty questions when getting a sandwich done at these shops, and things are going smoothly up until she gets to the vegetable portion.)  

Friend: “What veggies will you be having on this today?”  

Customer: “Oh, I’m not sure. Could I have a look at the lettuce and spinach over the divider to see if it’s wilted, please?”

(The customer tries to give puppy dog eyes. My friend thinks this is odd, but she doesn’t to be rude and refuse, so she holds the container over the divider so the customer can see.)  

Customer: *moans* “Oh, yes, yes. Please give me a big handful of both. Could I also see the jalapeños?”

(The customer attempts to give puppy dog eyes again. Just wanting to get this order done with fast, my friend obliges her and holds the container over the divider. The customer smiles, and then immediately digs her hand into the container and squishes a handful of jalapeños on her face. She begins to scream bloody murder.)  

Customer: “OH, MY GOD, I’M BLIND! YOU STUPID B****, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS TO ME! MANAGER! MANAGER! SOMEONE GET ME A MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”

(She continues to scream until the manager comes rushing out from the office.)

Manager: *to my friend* “WHAT HAPPENED?” *grabs first-aid kit and stuff to help clean up the customer*

Friend: *still in shock* “I… I’m not sure. She just… And smacked it… Like, on herself…” *keeps staring in shock*  

Customer: “THIS B**** THREW PEPPERS AT ME AND HAS BEEN RUDELY YELLING AT ME SINCE I CAME IN! I CAN’T BELI—” *gets cut off by the manager*  

Manager: “Okay, ma’am, let’s go talk in my office to get this whole thing resolved.” *to another coworker in the backroom* “Go take [Friend] into the break room and cover the register, please.” *quietly to my friend* “I’ll be back there in a bit. Go relax until I get this sorted.”

(My friend waited for around ten minutes before the manager came back to get her. Apparently, once the manager got the customer’s details down he asked her if she could show him where in the video my friend had thrown the peppers, and she got nervous and ran out, saying that wouldn’t be necessary. My friend got sent home with a free sandwich to cool off and calm down after everything that happened. Later that week, they all found out that woman had been going around town to the different locations trying to get free stuff and people fired.)

(I work night shifts at a service station. When a customer picks up a fuel hose to fuel up their car, it sets off an alarm inside that alerts the station attendant that the pump needs to be authorized. Fuel won’t pour until they do so, and the alarm won’t stop until it is either authorized or hung up. Unfortunately, a system error crashes one of the pumps with the alarm still going, so the entire pump has been turned off to shut it up until it can be fixed. Each nozzle on the pump has been covered with a bright orange out-of-order sign that must be removed before it can be used. I am in the cold room of the store stocking shelves when I hear thumping sounds and swearing, so I return to the front in time to see a man seemingly standing up from beside the non-functioning pump. There is no car, but I see he has a fuel can.)

Me: *over PA system* “Sorry, customer on pump seven! That one is currently out of order. I’ll just get you to move over to six and you’ll be all set.”

(The customer storms over to the night window, swearing loudly the whole while.)

Customer: “Oh, and you couldn’t d*** well tell me that ten minutes ago, you useless f****** w****r? What the f*** were you doing?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir.” *I explain the error, the pump alarm, etc.* “So, when you attempted to fill up, it wasn’t able to notify me, and since you walked in, I didn’t hear a car entering. Again, I’m extremely sorry about the wait. If you want to head over to one of the other pumps, I can get that started for you right away, and I can grab you a coffee card or free drink as an apology.”

Customer: *slightly mollified* “Well, you still should have had some kind of d*** sign out so tha—” *he gestures angrily at the pump, pausing as he notices the fluorescent orange hose-covers* “Huh.”

(He pauses for a moment, then turns back to me, looking absolutely mortified.)

Customer: “Look, I’m really sorry I went off like that. I messed up, and you’ve treated me a lot politer than I deserved. Don’t worry about fuel or a freebie. I’ll just go. Uh… Who… cleans out by the pumps and that here, by the way?”

Me: “The night staff do it, so that’ll be me just before I finish this morning. Why?”

Customer: “Oh, uh… Um, here.” *he shoves a $10 note into the cash slot and leaves hurriedly*

(Some time later:)

Another Customer: “Jesus, did somebody take a s*** over beside pump seven?”

(Sadly, the answer was yes.)

(I work audit at a popular hotel chain. I am warned immediately when I get in one night that there is a VERY large bachelor party renting four rooms, and that they announced they were going to a strip club and getting drunk before they all left. I am prepared to field all manner of weird requests when they get back, but have been told that more than likely they will want to get in the pool. The first thing I do is block the pool, so only a master key can get in, and then settle down to wait. Sure enough, they come back, and the entire party is drunk. They are carrying various open containers of alcohol, and not a single person in this party is quiet.)

Me: “Hey, guys, just a reminder that it’s after midnight. I’m going to need you to be quiet in the halls and be courteous of other guests!”

Guest #1: “Okay. Hey, will you let us into the pool?”

Me: “No, sorry, the pool is closed.”

Guest #2: “We only need it for, like 15 minutes! We just want to throw the groom in!”

Me: “Unfortunately, I can’t open it, even for 15 minutes. Sorry.”

Guest #1: “We could bribe you? We still have lots of singles from the strip club!”

Guest #2: “Yeah, the strippers were kind of ugly.”

Me: “Sorry.”

Guest #1: “Or you could have a shot?” *holds up bottle of raspberry vodka*

Me: “Oh, that does sound tempting, but I’m on the clock, and I can’t drink on the job.”

Guest #2: “Beer? [Brand] Energy Drink?” *holds out box of energy drinks*

Me: “No, sorry, I still can’t let you in the pool. If you really want to throw the groom in, you can do it at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Guest #1: “Well, never mind, I guess. Do you want a shot, anyway?”

Me: “Like I said, I’m working, so I can’t. I’d get fired.”

Guest #2: *hands me a can of energy drink* “Here. You should have this.”

Me: *takes can* “Okay? I’m still not opening the pool.”

Guest #1: “It’s okay. I’m going to go yell at everyone to be quiet. Bye!”

(This was not the last time I heard of or from them that night, either, and all my encounters went much the same way.)