I work in a fishing store. In walks one of my regular customers and a new guy, an older guy in his sixties. As is customary here in Poland, I greet them with a “good morning”. It’s rude not to reply or acknowledge a greeting, so my regular says hello. The old dude, however, does not. But I give it no mind.

My regular gets some gear (around $140 worth) and gets to paying. The old dude lines up behind him and waits.

Regular: “D***, I’m supposed to go shopping for groceries and I only have $160 on me.”

He starts to put back some items, so I stop him.

Me: “It’s fine. I’ll give you twenty bucks off since you buy here weekly.”

He leaves happy with enough cash left for groceries.

Seeing that, the old dude grabs some more stuff and comes back to get checked out.

Old Dude: “All right, that’s all. I grabbed some more stuff because I saw you were selling at a discounted price, so what’s my discount gonna be?”

I look at his total and it comes out to about $60.

Me: “Sir, I can’t really give you a discount since we usually give discounts with purchases equal to or above $100. But I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you fifty percent off the most expensive item in your bag—” *a fifty-dollar item* “—but if you promise to come back soon!

I say this jokingly with a big smile that quickly fades.

Old Dude: “Who the f*** do you think you are?! What kind of business do you think you’re running? You think you can just pick and choose a discount to give people? If you’re giving me a discount, it should be for all the items I have! Give me a better deal or I’m never coming back here!”

I’m so in shock that I have to take a few seconds to process what just happened. He doesn’t give me the chance to reply before he takes his arm and swipes everything to the ground.

Old Dude: “F*** this s***! I ain’t buying it anymore!”

That causes the two-kg bag of two-mm carp bait pellets (the item he would’ve gotten a discount on) to burst and spill little pellets all over the store’s floor and a bottle of bait booster (liquid attractant) to spill on the floor and make the whole shop smell like bloodworms (stinky).

Me: “Sir, you have to buy that.”

He gives me a stern “f*** no” and slaps the counter for some reason.

I then tell him that I have cameras, and if he won’t pay, I will be forced to call the police. I also add that we have cameras in the parking lot so I will know his plate numbers.

Suddenly, he has a magical change of heart,

Old Dude: “All right, fine, I’ll pay. So, that’s fifty percent off… making the pellets $25 and the booster $5—”

I cut him off.

Me: “No, that’s $50 for the pellets and $10 for the booster.”

Old Dude: “Wait, what?! Where’s my fifty percent off?! Don’t be a f****** brat about it!”

Me: “That fifty percent was only for the pellets, and your discount left as soon as your manners did. That will be $60 total.”

Old Dude: “D***, come on, kid! Don’t be a d**k. I’m sorry. Please give me a better price, and don’t be a b**** about it. Please, please, man! Do me a favor!”

After hearing that sorry excuse for an apology:

Me: “Nah, $60 or it’s the cops.”

The dude ended up paying after ten more minutes of pleading and calling me a d**k, and he left. The best part is that he still comes back in shame because we have the best prices in town.

A few years ago, I worked at a casual restaurant that offered two different menus: one for breakfast and one for lunch and dinner. I am being entirely honest when I say that I despise this from the very bottom of my heart. It’s bad enough that people come in wanting X cuisine when you only offer Y; it’s even worse when you DO offer X cuisine, but they’re two hours late and determined to make it your problem.

When I first started working at this restaurant, my job was primarily taking to-go orders until I learned the two menus and understood how the restaurant operated.

It was one such morning, at around 11:30, when an elderly man walked in and asked for an omelet off our breakfast menu.

Me: “I’m sorry. We stop serving breakfast at 10:00.”

This, he felt, was unacceptable, and he started berating me.

Customer: “It’s not even noon yet. You clearly don’t know what you’re doing if you think I can’t have an omelet in the morning time.”

I was not interested in arguing, so to placate him, I went to ask the kitchen whether they were still willing to make an omelet for this old man. Obviously, they refused, because breakfast had ended over an hour and a half ago, but my manager was there. In [Manager]’s eyes, it’s better for both parties if we spend five minutes frying an omelet than spending fifteen arguing that we can’t. I didn’t like it, but she did have a point, so I went back to the customer.

Me: “My manager said we’ll be able to make your omelette this time. Please go wait at the pickup counter.”

Customer: “What if I don’t want to?”

Folks, in my working career, this was the one and only time “but I don’t wanna” was brought up in the guise of a legitimate complaint. It was not my job to coddle customers who are being intentionally petulant. He had already berated me once. I was not gonna play a “cater to you” game for my $13 an hour.

Me: “Well, that’s where your food’s going to be.”

Customer: “Fine.”

And he sulked over to the pickup counter. I figured that would be the end of it.

We were busy, so when it was ready, I did what we usually did with to-go food: I left his bag at the pickup counter and called out the order.

It sat there for some time. The man didn’t come to claim it. I figured he was in the bathroom or something and got back to work.

A while later, my coworker came to relieve me from the to-gos so I could take my break. I went outside to chill and didn’t see the customer there until he grabbed my arm. I laughed, just a bit, in incredulity, and this old guy told me:

Customer: “Don’t laugh! This is ridiculous. I’ve been waiting half an hour for a f****** omelette!”

I went inside and the man followed me. I pointed to the bag on the counter.

Me: “There’s your omelet, where I told you it’d be.”

The man, of course, demanded his money back. I got [Manager], not only because of the refund, but now because I had a man who was cursing and thought it was okay to put his hands on me.

[Manager], who is by all accounts a Very Wholesome Southern Lady, went back up to the front to find the man. She immediately pulled the cash refund from the register and GRABBED THE OMELET BACK. Then, she told him it was unacceptable to curse at employees, he would not be served, and he had to leave or she would have him trespassed.

Customer: “You f****** b****, you act like you work at [Fast Food Chain], and you look like it, too.”

And so, [Manager] pulled out her phone and called 911 on a belligerent man harassing employees.

Even as [Manager] was on the phone with the authorities, he spent the whole time yelling that she was a b****, the restaurant was s***, and all sorts of other fun obscenities. He did this all while standing directly in front of the cash register. A handful of customers were uncomfortable and left.

When the cops DID actually arrive, as [Manager] said they would, the old man finally realized there would be consequences for his actions. He decided it was time to pull out his ace-in-the-hole — not just ANY ace-in-the-hole, and certainly not a well-thought-out ace-in-the-hole, but an ace-in-the-hole nonetheless.

He unbuckled his belt, HURLED HIS PANTS AT AN OFFICER, and then threw himself onto the floor as if he were having a seizure.

Despite his brilliant (awful) performance, the man was apprehended and removed from the premises.

And that is the tale of how I got a free hour-old omelette.

I have a doctor’s appointment in a few hours because I’m displaying some extremely worrying symptoms of heart problems. It’s not time to leave yet, so I’m online chatting with my friends to let them know what’s up. One of my friends is a moderator for a popular MMO that we all play, and as part of her position, she has pretty much unrestricted access to our billing information.

Me: “…so, yeah, after some of those symptoms the other day, I asked the doctor. He only had an opening today but said to go to the ER if they got worse, and he listed some things out. I’m not to the ‘worse’ part yet.”

Friend #1: “Holy s***. Are you okay?”

Me: “I’ll be fine. Little nerve wracking, but I’m fine.”

Friend #2: “And you’re actually going to the doctor, right? You’re not just saying it to make us shut up?”

This is a very fair accusation. I really don’t like going to the doctor and have been known to say, “Yeah, I’ll go,” to change the conversation.

Me: “Yes, it’s just not time to leave yet. I promise I’m going. Mom’s gonna drive me.”

Friend #2: “Good. Just know that I have your billing information sitting in front of me right now, and if I find out you’re lying, I’m calling an ambulance to your house.”

Me: *Laughing* “S***, I forgot you can do that!”

Once it’s time to leave, I’m talking to my mom as she’s driving.

Me: “Yeah, good thing the appointment is here. One of my friends was threatening to call an ambulance if I refused to go; that’s how worried they are.”

Mom: “Why would you tell people you’ve never met your address?! That’s how you get stalked!”

Me: “Oh, no, none of them know it except for that one. She works for [Company] and as part of her job can pull up our billing information.”

Mom: “YOU LET HER SEE YOUR BANK ACCOUNT INFORMATION?”

Me: “What? That isn’t what I said. My billing information! She can see a person’s full name, address, email, and, maybe if she pulls, like, three more screens up, the last four of my debit card. I’ve not ‘given’ her anything! Any place you have a subscription with like that has a person who can do that! That’s how they verify you to the account!”

Mom: “Call the bank! Call them as soon as we leave the doctor and make sure she hasn’t stolen from you! I can’t believe you’re so careless!”

Me: “You have subscriptions to [Service 1] and [Service #2]! Do you call every day to see if you’ve been robbed?!”

Mom: “YES! AND YOU NEED TO!”

We fought the entire way to the doctor and didn’t speak for the rest of the evening. As a side note, it turns out my blood pressure was extremely high, likely a result of severe overwork and unmanaged stress, and I was put on new medication for it. Gee, can’t imagine where the stress came from.

I used to work at a fast food restaurant. We advertised for several weeks that our prices would be going up a few cents on certain items due to the minimum wage going up.

The day after the prices changed, a grumpy regular comes to my register.

Me: “Hi, welcome to—”

Customer: “Here.” *Slams a few coins on the table* “Get my food.”

Me: “Okay, one senior coffee and one sausage muffin sandwich. Your total is $1.60.”

Customer: “It’s $1.50, girl. What did you do wrong?”

Me: “Nothing, sir. Your total is $1.60.”

Customer: “No, it’s $1.50.”

Me: “One senior coffee and one sausage muffin sandwich?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Yup. $1.60.”

Customer: “Get your manager!”

I call for the manager.

Manager: “Hi there. I heard you have a question?”

Customer: “This dumb child is overcharging me.”

Manager: “Ah, I see. Our prices recently went up, so—”

Customer: “Well, that’s too bad for you. My breakfast is $1.50 and I’m not paying one penny more.”

Manager: “Okay, sir. Feel free to take something off your order, then.”

She walks away.

Customer: “I’m not paying more for the same food.”

Me: “I understand, sir. I’ll void your transaction.”

Customer: “It’s ten d*** cents! Just give it to me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I won’t have my drawer be off. If I allowed it for you, I would have to allow it for everyone.”

Customer: “But—”

Me: “Will there be anything else?”

Customer: “Give me the coffee.”

Me: “Okay. Fifty-five cents, please.”

Customer: “Have your money, you f****** grubby brat.”

Me: “Thank you, sir.”

I pour his coffee. He takes a sip and then smiles.

Customer: “Doesn’t taste more expensive.”

He poured the coffee onto the countertop, narrowly missing the register and me. My manager chased him out of the store, telling him he would be arrested for trespassing if he ever came back.

As a young girl at my first job, it didn’t occur to me that he could have been poor or homeless or have some kind of mental health issues that contributed to him acting that way. Now, I am more aware of these things… but I still think he was probably just a d**k.

Related:
Cents-lessly Arguing Over The Cost

I was working in a thrift store. A guy came in carrying a rather large mailbox he had purchased there. He started talking about how far his house is from town, and suddenly, he literally threw the mailbox on the counter between us, and it bounced up and hit me in the face. He then started screaming at me.

Customer: “You shouldn’t have sold this to me! You should’ve known it wouldn’t fit my post!”

And on and on.

He was a real bag of nuts.