I work in a restaurant. I had a big group at work the other day with another coworker, and this table was absolutely insufferable. They were super impatient and condescending — the kind of people who think servers exist for only them and aren’t people. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The biggest b**** and ringleader of the whole table had a two-year-old kid who was just a tiny deviant. This kid kept grabbing me, trying to stick his hands under my shirt, and calling me Mommy, and his parents wouldn’t even bat an eye.

Me: *Gesturing to the toddler* “Please keep an eye on him. There’s hot food coming in and out, and I’m worried that he’ll get hurt.”

They just rolled their eyes and then started whispering amongst themselves.

I talked to a manager, and she didn’t do anything. She told me to tough it out and come get her if it escalated to the adults behaving like that.

What do I do in a situation like that? I can’t put my hands on the kid, but I don’t need to be groped by a toddler at work. Parents are the only ones who can control their kids, and they definitely had no desire to do so.

I work as a floating bar manager at an airport. One of the restaurants I work in serves Japanese food and has a lunch rush every day from 1:00 to 4:00 pm.

During the rush, I turn around and see a young woman put her baby in a pumpkin seat directly on the bar.

Me: *Politely* “Ma’am, in Oregon, it is illegal to have children at the bar.”

I point to the prominent sign explaining this. 

Customer: *Immediately furious* “Then where do you expect me to eat my udon?! This place is too crowded!”

I point out a number of open seats, which she refuses.

Customer: “No! Because then I would need to sit next to strangers!”

I’m not sure what she thinks her flight is going to be like.

Me: “I’m very sorry, but it’s both illegal and unsafe to have your baby on the bar.”

And with that, she throws her hot soup at me. I am drenched in it. If my uniform weren’t a heavy polyester, I could have been burned. My coworker hits the button for security.

Me: “Assaulting an airport employee is a federal offense.”

Customer: “I did not assault you! You’re fine! I’ll be suing you, the restaurant, and the airport if I miss my flight because of your bulls*** rules!”

I smile and point to the numerous security cameras. This just sets her off even more. She keeps cursing at me until security arrives. She completely freaks out, calling me all sorts of names.

Customer: “I hope you’ll enjoy my lawyer ruining your life!”

Me: “I hope you’ll enjoy the cavity search.” 

I never heard from her lawyer.

My worst customer was a woman in her seventies who was a regular at the supermarket I worked in back in the 1990s. She came in a lot, probably because she had reportedly been banned from both the other stores in the area, and we were the only other supermarket in town.

Sometimes her husband came in with her. He was the sweetest man you could meet so, naturally, his wife treated him like absolute s***, constantly yelling at and belittling him. After he passed away, she tried to get sympathy for having lost her husband. We didn’t feel bad. She was that awful to him.

She once deliberately squished her finger between two carts — I saw it myself — loudly yelled, “OW!”, and then yelled at the assistant store manager when he didn’t offer to compensate her for her pain and suffering.

She was an absolute nightmare at the checkout. She was extremely particular about how her groceries were handled, arranged, and bagged. God forbid you put a roll of paper towels down next to a head of lettuce or neglected to stack her packages of chicken “like records”; she would unleash a torrent of verbal abuse.

On one occasion, she was so verbally abusive to the cashier that the customer in line behind her spoke up.

Customer: “You can’t talk to her that way!”

Awful Regular: “Shut up and mind your own g**d*** business!”

Customer: “I will not mind my business! She’s a human being, and you have no right to talk to her that way!”

Awful Regular: “If you make me mess up this check, I’m gonna make you eat it!“

Our manager had to come over, and thankfully, our awful regular left shortly after. It should be noted that our cashier simply ignored her the whole time and kept ringing and bagging. It wasn’t her first rodeo with our awful regular.

The next day was her worst offense. She was being checked out by one of our newest cashiers, only sixteen years old. He placed her pears on the bagging area and was immediately greeted by a slap in the face. She was old and frail, and the slap was weak, but it was still shockingly unexpected!

Awful Regular: “You slammed my pears down! How dare you?!”

Of course, he had done no such thing. “Slammed” to our regular meant “didn’t cradle them gently with both hands before gently setting them on a soft surface”.

Cashier: “You crazy old bat!”

Awful Regular: “Manager! Where’s the manager?! You will be fired for insulting me!”

Our manager came over (sighing when he saw who was the reason for his being summoned) and listened to her complaint. This time, he was done with her.

Manager: “So, you physically assaulted a teenage kid, and now you’re trying to get him fired over it. You’ll be lucky if he decides not to file an assault charge against you.”

My manager looked at our young cashier with a look that screamed, “This is our way to be free!”

Cashier: “I won’t call the police and press charges if she is banned.”

Manager: “Well, there you have it, I’m afraid. Either you leave now and never come back, or we’ll need to call the police. My hands are tied. We’ll be nice and let you finish your current transaction, though! What will it be?”

She screamed and did not go down without a fight. She ended up with an assault charge AND getting banned!

A customer walks into the repair store and drops off his phone for repair of a cracked screen. He leaves his friend’s phone number to call when it’s ready, signs the work order, and leaves.

About an hour later, the tech calls the phone number provided and leaves a voicemail that the repair is ready for pick-up. At this point, it appears to be a regular transaction.

The customer walks back in after three hours, drunk and mad as h***.

Customer: “Why wasn’t I called on my phone?!”

Tech: *Calm as anything* “We left a message on your friend’s phone because you left your phone for repair.”

The customer looks through his missed messages now that the screen works and declares:

Customer: “Someone has been texting my girlfriend!”

Tech: “We have strict policies against that.”

Then, it gets bizarre. The customer slams his phone down on the counter, smashing the screen, and then rips the phone in two, all the while speaking Russian. This phone is glass, plastic, and metal — pretty tough to break into two pieces.

Customer: “There’s going to be an investigation.”

Our tech pulls a total boss move. He calmly says:

Tech: “You still have to pay for that, and we can have our own investigation.”

He points to the security cameras. Our tech is not a big guy but has nerves of steel. The customer pulls out a credit card, and he processes the transaction. The customer is holding both halves of the phone in one hand.

After the customer leaves, this very nice lady who is waiting for her repair and is trembling asks:

Other Customer: “Should we call the police?”

Tech: “What for? He paid for his repair.”

I work for a large big box store that used to have a clothing line, but it was phased out. We usually gave a store credit on returns, but we were told not to accept any type of clothing after a certain date. We had signs saying this all over the clothing department for months. That day comes and goes.

A lady comes into the store wanting to return a clothing item.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can no longer accept clothing returns.”

Customer: “That’s okay… I’ll take a store credit.”

Me: “No, ma’am, we got rid of our clothing. It was all final sale.”

Customer: “Nope. I want a refund.”

We still have some of the signs, so I show her.

Customer: “I didn’t see the d*** sign! And I don’t care what it says.”

Me: “There was more than just this one, ma’am.”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager!”

I called my manager who came and told her the same thing. The customer then picked up the flimsy plastic sign and tried throwing it across the counter. However, it wasn’t very aerodynamic, and it kept landing at her feet. She picked it up again and again and again.

Finally, she got it across the counter, and it landed at my feet. By this time, my manager was beet red trying to hold in his laughter, and thankfully, the customer stormed out after that.