There’s A Meth To His Madness

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(A customer is freaking out in the men’s bathroom, slamming the stall door, and I have to go tell him to leave since I am the only guy working.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: *spills his water* “Uh, sorry, what did you say?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; you have to leave. You’re damaging property and you’re scaring the customers.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m schizophrenic and I… I just have these episodes.”

Me: “It’s fine, man; I understand, but you still have to leave.”

(The customer leaves, and I go back to the bathroom to see how big of a mess he made, but most of the water has evaporated. He left his phone charger and case on the floor, though, so I give them back to my manager and she holds onto them. The customer comes back in and bolts for the bathroom.)

Me: “Sir, you can’t go back in there. You need to leave now.”

Customer: “Yeah, I just, uh, forgot something in the bathroom.”

Manager: *brings him his stuff* “You have to leave now, sir, or I’m calling the cops.”

Customer: *very panicked* “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”

(I head back into the bathroom, and I don’t know how I missed it, but there is a little baggie on the floor with some paper folded up in it. I unwrap it, and there is a brownish powder in it. I take it to my manager.)

Me: “So… I found this in the bathroom. What is it?”

Manager: “Well, that explains a lot. It’s meth.”

How To Make Them Bear-able

, , , , , | Right | October 8, 2017

(I work in a resort known for its ski location. Because of this, we get a lot of people from different provinces and countries. There is quite a difference in altitude where I work, so a lot of younger guests, who go out for drinks at our pub, end up getting a lot more drunk than they probably meant to. Until you’re accustomed to it, altitude combined with drinking the same amount you could 5000 meters below where we are can be a deadly mix. There have been a few times where we’ve had to remove people from the hotel due to disturbing other guests, refusing to quiet down, and insulting and swearing at our front desk agents or security. We do have an RCMP station not far from us, but if we can get the party to cooperate with us, we prefer not to call them, since it is still a bit of a drive for them. One night, I’m working the night audit shift. I know there have been a few noise complaints on one room, and that they have been giving our overnight security a hard time. So, unsurprisingly, they end up in our front lobby, and security asks me to call the RCMP. We’ve worked together a while, and the security officer knows I have a pretty good method of turning off the situation without actually having to get the cops involved, which is why he didn’t call them himself. I pick up the phone and pretend to dial a number. Because of the desk design, guests can’t see that I’m not actually dialing anything.)

Guest: *angry* “You’re actually calling the cops? I’m not doing anything wrong! This is a resort! I’m allowed to have fun here!

(And so begins the rant of how he’s on vacation, and it’s against his rights to kick him out just for having a few drinks, plus some name calling.)

Me: *as straight faced as I can* “Actually, I’m not calling the cops; we’re not in a jurisdiction, so we have to deal with our own problems.”

Guest: *a little concerned* “Who are you calling?”

Me: “Our bear people.”

(We have about 300 grizzly bears that live in the surrounding area, something we are proud about and advertise. “Bear people” is our nickname for the rangers who specialize in conditioning the bears to avoid hikers, campers, etc.)

Guest: “Why? What do they do?”

Me: “They keep track of all our bears. I just want to make sure none of the regulars who frequent this particular area are around. We had to remove guests from the hotel in the past, you see, and well…”

(The guest clearly understands what I’m getting at, goes white as a sheet, and turns to security.)

Guest: “I’d like to go back to my room, please. I won’t make any more noise.”

Security: “All right, but if we get one more noise complaint, you’ll have to trust your luck with the bears.”

(The guest nodded and followed security back up. I’m still waiting on the day that my luck will run out and a guest will actually remember our interaction, or, if they do, complain about it.)

To Get The Purse, One Must Overcome A Purse

, , , , | Right | October 5, 2017

(A nice elderly lady is paying by check, when her back suddenly cramps and she has to grab hold of the counter.)

Me: “Ma’am, are you okay? Do you want me to grab a chair or something?”

Customer: “No, no, it’s this stupid back of mine. It’s been going out for years. Let me finish this check and get out to the car.” *finishes writing check*

Me: “I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well. I’ll hurry this along so you can get out of here. May I see your driver’s license?”

Customer: “My what?”

Me: “Your driver’s license. I need it to key in for the check.”

(It’s how our store confirms the person doesn’t have hot checks out on them.)

Customer: “Oh, no; it’s outside in my car.”

Me: “Is it far? I can help you out there. Do you want me to get the purse for you?”

Customer: “I’m parked right outside. Would you be a dear and grab it? The purse is right there in the seat.”

Me: “I most certainly will!”

(I run outside, click the button, and reach in. About that time, someone screams at me and I get hit in the back by a fat purse. It hurts a lot, so I scream and fall down in return, only to get hit in the head.)

Stranger: “You’re stealing someone’s stuff! You’d better put that back right now!”

(She is still hitting me as she says this.)

Me: “Ow! Ma’am! Please stop! I’m getting this for the lady inside!”


(She hits me again as I go running back in the store with the customer’s purse. My nose is bleeding, my glasses are broken, and I’m in tears.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! What happened to you?”

Me: “Someone was protecting your stuff for you.”

(I went on break after that so I could clean up. No cops came by, luckily.)

One For Stall And Stall For One

, , , , , | Right | October 4, 2017

(I am a very pregnant customer at a fast food joint and I have to use the restroom. I walk into the restroom, which is empty, and go into and lock the biggest stall. As I begin to reach for some tissue, I hear the door open and someone try the handle to my stall, which is locked.)

Lady: “F***!”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am. I’m almost done, but there are other stalls.”

Lady: “I always use this one!”

(To my dismay, she then gets on the ground and tries crawling under the door. All I see is the head and torso of a seemingly normal-looking lady in her early 40s.)

Me: *yelling* “What are you doing!? Get out!”

Lady: *still crawling* “But I always use this stall!”

(At this point, thankfully, an employee walks in.)

Me: “You can use it when I’m done! GET OUT!”

Employee: “What is going on?”

(At the same time, the lady screams that I’m in her stall and I scream that the lady won’t get out.)

Employee: “Ma’am, get off the floor and get out of that stall! You can’t break into a stall like that! And there are two other stalls open and ready for you to use!”

Lady: “But I always use this one.”

Employee: “I don’t care! What were you planning on doing? Sitting on her?! Wait your turn or use a different stall.”

(At this point, the lady begins to wriggle herself back out of the stall, complaining about poor customer service and grumbling that she always, always uses that stall. I am rather shaken up, but I finish my business and rush out of the restroom as the lady rushes into the stall. The employee and a manager are waiting outside.)

Manager: “[Employee] told me what happened, but I’m not really understanding. Can you tell me?”

(I tell him.)

Manager: “I can’t believe this! That customer is a regular, and this has never happened, but let me comp your meal for you and give you some coupons. I can’t apologize enough!”

(The lady comes out of the bathroom while he’s talking to me, and he sends the employee and me to the register to give me a refund and some coupons. I hear him talking to the lady.)

Lady: “That fat girl stole my stall, and I always use that one!”

Manager: “She’s not fat; she’s clearly pregnant. And I don’t care if she weighs 300 pounds; you don’t walk into someone’s stall while they are in the middle of using it! Never, ever come back here!”

(From then on, I used the drive-thru and my own bathroom. Just in case.)

A Cents-less Display Of Entitlement

, , , , , , | Right | October 3, 2017

(I am a cashier. Everything is going fine with this particular transaction, until we get to the total.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, your total is $255.62.”

Customer: “What? That cannot be right! Did you scan everything correctly?”

Me: *swing the screen towards her so she can see* “I don’t see anything overcharged or doubled here. It looks fine, but I can check.”

Customer: “No, you should know what you overcharged! This has to at least be $100 over!”

Me: “Ma’am, you purchased 139 items. That makes them about two dollars each on average, which sounds about right to me.”

Customer: “Did you take off the sales?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The computer automatically does it to each item.” *I point to where the computer has subtracted sales from items that were scanned* “I don’t think that it would have missed enough to cause $100 difference.”

Customer: “You must have scanned everything twice!”

Me: “Ma’am, that is almost impossible to do. The computer would have caught on.”

Customer: “Then there is something wrong with your computer! Do it by hand!”

Me: “Um… excuse me?”

Customer: “Ring up my items by hand!”

Me: “Ma’am, you have over a hundred items, and customers are already waiting. I have offered to make sure nothing was overcharged, and I have not seen anything that appears to be wrong.”

Customer: “DO IT BY HAND!” *she is actually screaming by this point*

Me: “Ma’am, that simply is not possible. I can take some items off and bring your—”

Customer: “So, you did overcharge me!”

Me: “No. Not at all. I can return items that you think you may not need. That will bring your total down. If you would like, we can quickly do that.”

Customer: “But I need this stuff!”

Me: “Then I need you to pay the total.”

Customer: “And I need you to take off the extra charges!”

(My manager, by this time, has wandered over. He looks over the list on the computer.)

Manager: “Ma’am, there are no overcharges. Once you pay and have your receipt, you will see that this is correct.”

(The woman, fuming, finally pays and storms out. Five minutes later, she struts up to me, pushes into the cashier’s booth, and shoves her receipt into my face.)

Customer: “LOOK! You did overcharge me! Look!”

Me: “Ma’am, what you are pointing out is a can of beans marked at $1.05.”

Customer: “Yes! And they were on sale!”

Me: *pointing to the “-10” on the receipt, showing that the coupon was taken off* “No, the coupon subtraction is right there. That would only be ten cents, not the hundred dollars you believed earlier. Now, please leave this area, since only cashiers should be behind the register.”

Customer: “You cannot just admit that you overcharged me! You should be fired! You stole from me! You are a thief!”

Manager: “Ma’am, I have contacted the police. I cannot have you in the cashier area, or badgering employees. I am going to have to ask you to leave, or you will be removed!”

Customer: “Good! The police won’t let you get away with stealing! I WANT MY MONEY BACK!”

(She ended up being escorted out by the police, screaming the whole time that our store was a scam. I have never seen anything like that since.)

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