Dipping Into Some Colorful Language

, , , | | Right | June 20, 2019

(I work the dairy section in a very busy grocery store. On a particularly busy day, I am stocking shelves and am over two hours behind.)

Customer: “Excuse me, dear. I’m looking for the dip.”

Me: “We have separate dips all over the store, so you’ll need to be more specific.”

Customer: “You know… the Jolly Good Dip?”

Me: “Oh, do you mean Helluva Good Dip?”

Customer: *face goes beet red*

Me: “Is everything okay?”

Customer: “How dare you use such vulgar language at me! I demand to speak to your manager!”

(Shocked, I grab the manager, who then says exactly the same thing I did. The customer screeches, throws a carton of eggs at us, grabs the dip, and bolts out of the store.)

Manager: “…”

Me:  “…”

Manager: “You can go on your lunch now.”

An Alarming Response

, , , , , , | | Friendly | June 19, 2019

(After a drink at a local bar, my friends and I head to a local all-night burger restaurant for a bite to eat. My friend realizes his wallet is in the car, and it’s pouring rain. To get to his car more quickly, he tries to leave through the back door instead of the front and sets off a horrible, wailing alarm. The staff is very understanding but at a loss for what to do. A key is needed to shut off the alarm, and the manager has gone home for the night. While they call him in, my friend, who feels terrible, is standing in the rain, holding the heavy door open so the sound is muffled inside the restaurant. The staff informs us that the manager will be in soon and drops off our food. A minute later, a drunk customer from another table stumbles up to us. We recognize him as a patron of the bar we have just left.)

Drunk Guy: *angrily* “Who did that?”

Me: “We’re so sorry–”

Drunk Guy: *pointing at me* “Was it you, girlie?”

Me: “No, it was my friend, but it was an accident–”

(As I’m speaking, he grabs my glass of water and takes a big drink out of it. He then proceeds to lean forward and spit the mouthful of water back into my face. My friends leap out of their seats, his friends rush over to pull him back, food and drinks are knocked everywhere, and I’m standing there in shock, dripping.)

My Friend: “[My Name]! Are you okay?!”

Me: “My… my glasses…”

(It was all I could think to say. As the staff ran over, the drunk guy ran out of the restaurant, hopped in a car, and drove away. The cops were called immediately and got there just after the stunned restaurant manager arrived with the alarm key. While they were both interviewing me and my friends, the drunk guy drove back into the parking lot and was promptly arrested for assault and DUI. His friends were apologetic and tried to pay for my meal, but the restaurant had already remade all of our food and comped it. We pooled all the cash we had between the four of us to tip the staff, who were nothing short of amazing the entire time. I’m not sure what the moral to this story is. Look out for alarmed exit doors?)

A Human Being Unreasonable

, , , , , | | Right | June 17, 2019

(The restaurant where I work is very popular and can be really crowded during lunch hour. Also, it is a small business and there are less than twenty seated places. My coworker has called off and I am the only waitress on the floor. Since most of the clients are regulars, they know the waiting can be long, so they are mostly patient and nice even though the line reaches outside. A woman decides she has had enough and cuts the entire line, grabs my arm — note that I have food plates in both hands and even on my arms — and yells at me:)


Me: “Please, madam, be careful! Those plates are hot!”

Customer: “I don’t care; I want to be served!”

Me: “I am really sorry, madam, but you will have to wait in line.”

Customer: “NO! I don’t have to wait.”

Me: “Again, madam, I’m sorry, but all these people were here before you and therefore, you must wait. As you can see, we are incredibly busy.”

Customer: “I DON’T CARE! Do you know who I am?”

Other Customer: “I know who you are.”

Customer: “Finally! I—“

Other Customer: *without missing a beat* “You are a human being like everybody else. And decent human beings wait in line! So get back there!”

(The lady left in a huff. I couldn’t have said it better myself!)

Literally Up To Your Neck In Crazy Customers

, , , , | | Right | June 16, 2019

(I am sixteen and have just started my first job. When I was 13, I was found to have thyroid cancer. I had it operated on twice, and because of this, it left a very brash scar. To prevent people from seeing it, I wear a scarf I made myself. Despite it looking out of place, especially in Texas weather, I feel it keeps people at bay from prying about what’s underneath. I am ringing in a woman with a rather large cart filled with items.)

Me: “Hello! Did you find everything?”

Customer: *seems very hesitant* “Yeah, thanks…”

(I finish ringing everything up without another word from her.)

Me: “All right, your total is $221.34. Is there anything else you’ll be needing?”

(She just shakes her head while rummaging through her purse, and I continue on with my work, assuming she’s just had a bad day or such.)

Me: “All righty, then! Will that be cash or credit?”

(She looks up at me scoldingly from her purse, and I am taken aback as I think I’ve been nice this entire time.)

Customer: *pulls out credit card* “Credit.”

Me: “Okay, just slide it in the card reader in front of you.”

Customer: *slides card through and signs reader*

Me: “Seems everything’s gone through smoothly. Would you like a receipt?”

Customer: “Why do you wear that?”

(I print out the receipt in an effort to dodge the question, which, despite the fact I’m asked it every once in a while, I hate having to answer, so much so that my friends usually answer with a lie for me.)

Customer: “Are you stupid? Why. Do. You. Wear that?”

Me: *getting nervous and uncomfortable* “Thank you for shopping with us!”

(She then leans over the counter and quickly grabs my scarf’s base right by my neck, making me give a slight scream in terror as I’m jolted forward. She continues to try and undo it, but due to its length, it just gets more and more tangled and tighter around my neck. I’m putting up a pretty big struggle, but she has me pulled over the counter so I’m obviously losing. It doesn’t take long for my manager to notice, and he rushes to me quickly and tries pulling her off of me with the help of my coworker and a few customers. Once she’s finally off, my manager calls the cops and she’s taken away. I’m asked if I’d like to press charges for assault, but lucky for her, I decline. I’m sitting against the wall, having redone my scarf and trying to catch my breath; this is the first time anything like this had ever happened. My coworker comes and sits by me. I have a tendency to make jokes out of bad situations.)

Coworker: “You okay? That looked kind of scary.”

Me: “Are you kidding?! It scared the daylights out of me! I thought I was going to die in the middle of a grocery store!” *laughs*

Coworker: “Well, I’m glad you’re not hurt; if you died you couldn’t go see a movie with me next Saturday.”

(I did quit that job, despite my love for my coworkers and manager, in the end. And yes, my coworker — now boyfriend — and I did see that movie together. He also bought me a new, shorter, scarf, which is now an annual thing for him to get me on our anniversary. I have never been happier.)

The Gift Card Can’t Be Used In Prison Cafeterias

, , , , | | Right | June 7, 2019

(I’m in a large, well-known store, waiting in line at customer service. The next customer is called.)

Customer Service Agent: “How can I help you?”

Customer: *loudly* “I need to pay for this with my gift card and the cashier wouldn’t help me. You need to do it.”

Customer Service Agent: “I don’t see why there would be a problem if you have the money on the card. The total is $[total]; go ahead and scan your card.”

Customer: “I don’t have it with me.”

Customer Service Agent: “That is a problem, then. I can’t use the card unless you have it with you; you’ll have to go get it if you want to use it. Do you have another form of payment? Or, I can hold this for you while you get your card.”

Customer: *starting to yell* “You just said I could do it; now you have to! All these people heard you say you could use my card!”

Customer Service Agent: “We have to have the gift card to use it. We have no way to access the card information or balance.”

Customer: *yelling* “My card is at home. H-O-M-E, home! I rode the bus for two hours to get here to buy this, and I’m not going home without it.”

(The customer suddenly lunges forward, reaches over the counter, and grabs and yanks the agent’s shirt, causing her to lose her balance and fall. The second agent at the desk grabs the phone and calls 911 as another customer rushes forward to pull the first customer away from the desk. Within moments, a police officer is present, as there is a substation actually in the store. The offending customer is still yelling about not riding the bus home to get the card as he is led away, now in handcuffs.)

Police Officer: “No, you aren’t going home to get the card. You’ve earned yourself a free car ride, and it’s not to your house.”

(The agent said she was okay, but she was checked by EMTs, as she’d hit her head on the edge of the counter when she fell, and then was led away by store management. All of us in line had to give our names and phone numbers to another store employee in case they needed to contact us for a statement, but I never got a call so I don’t know how it ended.)

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