(My boyfriend is standing on the sidewalk outside the store. He is smoking a cigarette while he waits for me to get off. A customer comes in and starts complaining.)

Customer: “Look at him! Standing out there as if he owns the place! You’re going to make this place go out of business by allowing riff-raff like that to hang out here and smoke right beside the door!”

Me: “Ma’am, he is near the ashtray, which is more than the state mandated twenty-five feet from the entrance. Furthermore, I ask that you not call my other customers names, and especially him because he’s my boyfriend.”

Customer: “What is wrong with you?! Why would a good, sweet Christian girl like you date a tattooed heathen like that!?”

Me: “Ma’am, please stop calling him names. He is not a heathen; he is a good Christian man. I on the other hand, am not religious, but spiritual. He is also an Army veteran who served in Iraq and Afghanistan, and deserves to be treated with more respect than you are giving him. Now please leave. I am refusing you service for being so rude.”

Customer: “The customer is always right! I’ll tell [owner] that you were letting a heathen lurk outside his store!”

Me: “You do that, ma’am. I’ll make sure to tell him how rude you were, too.”

Customer: “The customer is always right!”

(The customer runs out of the store. At this point, my boyfriend walks in.)

Boyfriend: “What was her problem, baby girl?”

Me: “Who knows? She apparently thought the customer is always right.”

Boyfriend: “Sometimes the customer is just an a**-hole.”

(In order to drive business to our photography studio, we leave out stuffed animals for customers to ‘find’ and return in exchange for a free session and picture. The animals come with a silly poem with directions on where to go to collect their prize. A customer comes in, and places one of our toys on the counter.)

Customer: “I found your toy.”

Me: “Great! You’ve won a prize! You’ve won a free picture plus sitting!”

Customer: “What? You mean there’s no cash?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I found your toy. I was under the impression there would be a reward.”

Me: “Erm… yes. The sitting and picture is the reward.”

Customer: “Well, I want CASH!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am; we’re not allowed to offer cash prizes.”

Customer: “Well I don’t have to take this! I brought your toy back, and you won’t pay me for it! You do it every other time! I can’t believe you won’t do it now! I’m calling your manager to complain!”

Me: “Well, I am the manager, ma’am. I’m quite certain I’ve never handed out a cash prize for this game.”

(The customer is now red faced and even angrier.)

Customer: “How rude of you! I’m calling your company to complain and get my cash!”

(The customer then shoves the toy across the counter, pauses to take the number for customer services, and storms out.)

(Everyone in the kitchen wears headsets to hear the drive-thru. This is so we can make the order while the customer is ordering.)

Me: “Hey, how are you today?”

Customer: “Just a sec… s***!”

Me: *deadpan* “I’m sorry, sir; we don’t serve that here.”

(The entire kitchen erupts in laughter.)

Customer: *also laughing* “If I wanted that, I’d go to [competitor]!”

Me: “Hello, ma’am, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “I bought some shrimp the other day, and would like to return them.”

Me: “Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “The shrimp’s souls are in Hell.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Well they are freezer burned, and since they are ‘burned’, that means that their little souls are in Hell. I just can’t eat anything that has been damned.”

(My husband calls a diner ahead for two Philly sandwiches. When we pull up, we see the waitress and the cook waiting outside while one person is eating at the counter.)

Cook: “Are you [last name]?”

Husband: “Yes?”

Cook: “I’m sorry, but there’s been… an issue with your order.”

Husband: “What’s going on?”

Cook: “We’re waiting for the cops. You see, I was in the middle of making your order. That gentleman in there came in, grabbed your food off the grill, and sat down to eat. We think he might be armed. We’ve locked him inside, and we’re waiting for the cops.”

(My husband is speechless.)

Cook: “I’ll also have to remake your order if you still want it.”

Husband: “It’s okay. We’ll wait.”

(We are there for over an hour. The cops show up rather shortly. They arrest the man, and take all available evidence. The cook and waitress have to clean everything before they can make my husband’s order. We are given half off for our wait!)

(A group of women have a weekly Bible study at our coffee shop. I am waiting on a young man in line.)

Customer: “You need to do something about those women over there. They can’t have a Bible study in a place like this.”

Me: “Yes they can. They come here every week, order coffee and pastries, and don’t disturb anyone.”

Customer: “Well, they are offending me! They shouldn’t be here!”

(The customer starts yelling.)

Customer: “SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE!”

Me: “Sir, please keep your voice down.”

Customer: “I demand to see your manager!”

(I get my manager, who has been observing this situation from the back room.)

Customer: “A coffee shop is no place for a Bible study. This is offensive!”

Manager: “These women have been meeting here for over five years. They have never caused any problem to anyone. Now give your order to the barista, and then leave.”

(The customer orders, and as he is leaving, walks by the women and knocks a Bible onto the floor. She picks it up, puts it back on the table and heads over to the counter. She thanks me and my manager for sticking up for them, and puts a $20 in the tip jar!)

(The store I work in is now a very popular coffee brand store. We’ve been open for two weeks. The building was previously a food and dining store, but the building had been empty eight months prior to our store opening.)

Me: “Hello, sir, how are you today?”

Customer: “Well, I’m not very d*** good now!”

Me: “Oh, I’m ever so sorry to hear that! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I came here for some breakfast, but you’re not [old store] any more!”

Me: “Well, we do have breakfast options. We can heat them for yo—”

Customer: “NO GOOD! I WANTED HOT FOOD!”

Me: “We can do you hot food; we offer porridge, and of course our lovely hot dr—”

Customer: “IT’S S***! IT’S GARBAGE, THAT’S WHAT IT IS! I WON’T PUT UP WITH IT!”

(While he’s steadily getting angrier, another customer has entered the store behind him.)

Me: “Um, there’s not really much else I can do I’m afraid, sir. Was there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Yes, I’ll have a… NO! I’ll go somewhere else. THIS IS TOTAL S***! What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Me: “Er… I’m sorry but [old store] hasn’t been open on this site for almost a year, so there really is nothing I can do about it. If that is everything, I will just serve the next customer who has been waiting patiently. Thank you, have a good d—”

Customer: “I’M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU! I WA—”

Next Customer: “Well, she’s finished with YOU! You’re obviously bloody stupid; EVERYONE knows that [old store] hasn’t been here for ages! It’s too d*** early for you to be yelling at this poor girl! Now, sod off and let me get my coffee!”

(The first customer all but runs from the store.)

Me: “Wow, thank you for that! I’m so sorry you had to step in though!”

Next Customer: “No worries, my darling! Hey, I recognise you; didn’t you work at [popular fast food store]?”

Me: “Yup! Five years of putting up with customers like that; I think I may have brought them with me!”

Next Customer: “Oh, dear me. Well, this is for you, darling! Keep that smile going!”

(The woman hands me a £5 note, swiftly followed by several more from the other customers in the store, all of whom come over when they hear where I used to work!)

(A customer has seen a scarf that she likes, and wants to buy two identical pairs. Unfortunately there is only two of the same style in stock.)

Customer: “But I don’t like this one…”

Me: “Um… they’re identical.”

Customer: “No they’re not! I want two like this one!”

Me: “I’m sorry, miss, they are the exact same pattern and the exact same colour. There is absolutely no difference. Look, I’ll compare them… see?”

Customer: “Do you think I’m stupid? DO YOU? This one is a darker shade. I want the lighter shade. I AM NOT AN IDIOT!”

Me: “I’m sorry; maybe it’s the lighting. I’ll just grab another from the stock room, and I’ll be right back.”

(I hide in the stockroom for a minute with her second scarf, doing nothing. I then come back out with the exact same scarf.)

Me: “I have found one just like the other one.”

Customer: “See? I knew they were different! This third one is perfect!”

(She buys them both.)

(I’m working at my teller window when a client with a bandaged hand comes up with a deposit.)

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [bank]. I see that you hurt your hand; were you fighting with a dragon?”

Client: “Yes, and it won.”

Me: “Was it a big dragon?”

Client: “No, it was a little one. But he didn’t play fair. He used fire!”

Me: “Oh, no! Well, better luck to you next time. Here’s your receipt. Have a wonderful day!”

Client: “You too! Thanks!” *walks out the door*

(My boss, who has been standing behind me the whole time, finally speaks up.)

Boss: “That was not normal…”

(During the night shift at the 24-hour gas station, it’s against policy to have the store open from midnight to five if you’re working alone. My coworker hasn’t shown up, so I am doing some cleaning while the store is temporarily closed and locked. A customer bangs angrily on the door. After several mimes of miming ‘Sorry!’ and pointing to the ‘Closed’ sign, I open the door a crack, figuring she might be in trouble or have run out of gas.)

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Open the door!”

Me: “I’m sorry, we’re closed. I’m not allowed to be open from midnight to five.”

Customer: “You’re CLOSED?!”

Me: “Yes! Well… is it an emergency?”

Customer: “It is an emergency! I need beer!”