There are areas near where I live where walking paths cross across the street, with large bushes on either side that make it impossible to see if anyone is standing and waiting to cross until you are pretty much right on top of the crossing. For this reason, I slow down every time I approach these crossings, just in case someone is waiting there and decides to start crossing without checking. This has proven wise several times, including in this incident.

I was approaching the crossing, slowed down as usual, and then had to slam on my brakes when three guys came hurtling down the path and into the road in front of me. No attempt to check, and no way they could have seen the road to tell if it was clear. The car approaching from the other direction hadn’t slowed down and ended up having to swerve partway into my side of the road to keep from hitting the guys, who waved their arms and shouted a bit at the car.

At this point, rather than pulling back into his lane and moving on, the other driver put his car in park, jumped out, and chased the three guys off onto the path and out of sight. This left me and a couple of other cars that had been coming the other way stuck there with this car partially blocking both lanes. I inched forward a bit to see if I could get around, but there wasn’t enough room. I’d just reached down to pull out my phone and call 911 about the car blocking the road when the guy came back. He then proceeded to flip me off, climb into his car, and rev his engine, before swerving back into his lane and peeling out, almost clipping my car in the process.

(I work at a gas station on the overnight shifts. It’s usually me and one other person. There is rarely, if ever, a manager or supervisor there after midnight. This happens sometime after 2:00 am.)

Customer: *walks in* “Hey, do you guys still cook pizzas for customers?”

(We sell the gas-station brand pizzas in the store and will cook them at a customer’s request.)

Me: “Of course.”

Customer: “Really? You do? You cook pizzas at this location?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Oh, because last time when I came in, I called in and asked for a pizza to be made so I could pick it up. And when I came in…” *pulls out his phone* “…the pizza was sitting out, not cooked, just in a box.”

Me: “Really?”

(He shows me a picture of a pizza that, from what I can tell, wasn’t cooked at all.)

Me: “Oh, man. I’m so sorry about that. Did you happen to catch the name of the employee who took your order?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “How about the date and time? When did you order the pizza?”

Customer: “I don’t remember.”

Me: “Ah, well, how about your receipt? Do you still have it?”

Customer: “No, I threw it away.”

(I’m a bit annoyed, because without that information there isn’t much the staff can do to figure out WHO took the order or WHEN, much less confirm if he actually asked for the pizza to be cooked.)

Me: “Well, I’m sorry, there’s not much that I can do.”

Customer: “Is there a manager I can speak to?”

(It’s completely dark outside and there is a clock on the wall behind me that says it’s after 2:00 am.)

Me: “No. Our managers don’t come in until six.”

Customer: “D***. Do you have their numbers so I can give one a call?”

Me: “I’m not going to give my managers’ personal numbers out in the middle of the night.”

Customer: “Why not?”

(I stared at him in vague disbelief. After about thirty seconds, he shook his head and left the store without another word. I don’t know what he was expecting to happen by coming in at 2:00 am with this complaint.)

(I’m a manager at a very popular taco fast food place. Like most late night managers and other employees, we get our share of crazy. The phone is ringing.)

Me: “Hi, thanks for calling [Taco Place]. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, do you deliver?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “Do you sell burgers?”

Me: “No. You called [Taco Place].”

Caller: “Can you put hot dogs in a burrito?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “What if I bring my own? Will you do it then?”

Me: “No, it’s cross contamination. Plus, I can not bring anything from over the counter back to the cooks.”

Caller: “Well… what if I threw s*** at you for not accommodating your customers?”

Me: *face-palm* “I have cameras everywhere. You will be caught and the police will be called.”

Caller: “You don’t know who I am or where I am.”

Me: “We have caller ID if that’s what you’re getting at.”

(Clearly, this caller has lost their marbles.)

Caller: “I will get you fired for not doing your job!”

Me: “My job is to make burritos and tacos. You called [Taco Place]. I am doing my job. You’re wasting your time. Now, if there isn’t anything else I can get you or help you with, have a good night.”

Caller: *hangs up*

(I will never understand customers and their sticks up their butts.)

(A customer calls me about a knob that has fallen off of her refrigerator. She doesn’t have the model number so I’m trying to identify the part.)

Me: “What color is the knob.”

Caller: “Black.”

Me: “Does it have any numbers on it?”

Caller: “No. All it says is ‘Colder’ and then 1, 2, 3, 4…”

(I get into work to find out that a customer that I had problems with a month ago had stopped in. This customer tried to rent on account that had an ID check required, and we couldn’t get ahold of the person on the account. I let her rent that one time because she had little children with her, but I told her that to rent again she either needs to bring an ID to set up her own account, or she needs to make sure the person gives us a call or is reachable. This time, I am informed that she was in by my employee and from a note from another customer. When we informed her why we couldn’t rent to her, she became very aggressive. She called my employee names and even threatened to be back for her. I get the “a-ok” from a district manager to kick her out of the store.)

Me: “Hi! Did you find everything okay today?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Great! What is the number on the account?”

Customer: “DONALD TRUMP!”

Me: “I’m sorry? I need the number for the account.”

Customer: “Donald Trump!”

Me: *laughs* “I’m sorry, what is the number?”

(She tells me the number, but it is a number she bullied a previous employee to change to. We deleted that number due to the fact that she isn’t the account holder and doesn’t have the right to use it.)

Me: “I’m sorry, it looks like it isn’t coming up.”

Customer: “Whaaaat? That’s weeeirdd.”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry about that. What is the name on the account?”

Customer: “[Account Name].”

Me: “Great! I found it! It looks like I need to see a photo ID.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t have one.”

Me: “No worries, I just need to give the account holder a call to make sure it’s okay. Do you know her number?”

Customer: *tells me number*

(As I am beginning to dial it, she starts to rant about how poorly the two other girls have treated her the last two days. She proceeds to call them names to my face, and then finishes it up with, “Not like you give a s***.” While I was all for humoring her to see if maybe she had just been having a bad day before and took it out on my employees, I stop what I am doing and put down the phone.)

Me: “I’m sorry, is your name [Customer]?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “All right, well, I’m really sorry, but this store is no longer going to be able to rent to you. I had customers leave notes and call here earlier today about how you brought a very negative experience to them, and we take a positive atmosphere here very seriously. If you want, I can give you the district manager’s email and you can talk with her about resolving the situation. Until then, you will not be allowed back in the store.”

Customer: “So, you’re telling me, my niece and I just walked here in the cold at nine pm at night, and we can’t rent movies?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry. Normally, I’d inform you to have a photo ID to set up your own account, but because I had customers complain, I have to ask you never to return.”

Customer: *picks up her niece* “What do we think of this mean lady?”

Niece: *three years old* “You’re a [slur].”

Me: “Okey dokey. Well, here is the email. You know what you need to do.”