I had a group of three come in. Older ladies, maybe in their sixties. I greeted them and asked what they wanted to drink, put in apps, and everything seemed to go well. Then I get their food order.

The first lady orders something regular, the second asks for a change in the kind of waffle she was having, no problem. The third… she asked me if she could make her own omelet. Her friends were already joking about how difficult she is, and she can’t even order off fast food menus without changing something.

I laughed and told her no, that she had to pick one of the three (cheese, veggie, or seafood), and she could add a breakfast meat or something. She quickly corrected me and said that was the same thing. She proceeded to ask for a veggie, no onions, bell pepper, or tomatoes (leaving her with just spinach), and then told me to add bacon and pico.

I told her Pico had tomatoes and onions and asked whether she was sure. She said she just didn’t want it too tomato-y or onion-y and that the pico was fine. I said okay, and put it in. She kept making jokes about how she is picky, and this is typical of her, and she’s so quirky.

They proceed to run me around; napkins, a new drink, want to change drink, second person now wants to change drink, salt and pepper before food arrives, etc. And then when I finally get them settled, their food comes out, they ask me for a pad of butter, salsa, salt, and pepper (yes again, they told me they were done), and some pancake syrup.

In the midst of getting all these things, a fourth person shows up, and I ask what she wants to drink. She tells me her friends need pancake syrup. I said I was already going to get it, but I was just trying to help her get something to drink. She gives me her drink order with an attitude.

They then have a FIFTH friend.

They asked to put tables together, and we said no (sections), but offered a table for five instead. When the woman gets there, they try to pull a chair up even though we already told them they’d have to move. They begrudgingly move and leave their old table in a mess, which I go to clean right as the fifth person sits down. As soon as she sits, her friend calls me and says she’s ready to order. With dishes clearly in my hand, I tell her to give me a minute.

I come back, ask her what she wants to drink, and she said: “No, I’m ready to order.” I said, “Well, I need to ring in your drink too, so will you tell me what you want to drink and then what you want to eat?” She gives in. I go to check on her after she gets her food and say: “Did you get everything? Does it all look right?” She gestures to the food and rolls her eyes.

This entire time, they are joking about how they are difficult and picky, especially the omelet lady. When it was time to pay, the fifth lady paid for everyone and left a $3 tip on a $97 order.

The worst part is they caught my manager and asked if I was new, because they felt like they had to ask for everything. I wanted to scream. The only reason why you had to ask was that you kept changing your drink and adding people, AND because you NEVER LET ME GET A CHANCE TO GRAB IT.

It’s NOT cute to go out and be difficult or purposefully picky. I have no issue with accommodation, but it truly felt like a game to them, and it was so FRUSTRATING.

Our superstore sells more frozen food than the average retailer, and keeps a lot of meat in giant walk-in freezers in the back. A lot of us are running around the store all day, pulling heavy pallets of stock around, so while we operate in a cold environment, we don’t feel it due to how active we are while on duty. In fact, the cool air feels good.

Customer: “It’s so cold in here!”

Manager: “We operate a lot of freezers, and it’s warm outside today, so we have to—”

Customer: “—When a customer tells you it’s cold, that means you go wherever you need to go to turn the temperature up!”

Manager: “Apologies.”

My manager walks into the back, next to another freezer. He stands there for a moment and takes a deep breath.

Me: “Taking a breather?”

Manager: “Literally.”

Me: “Not going to turn up the thermostat?”

Manager: “I’m not turning up the heat in a place where we have to wear long pants and sleeves while running our butts off all day. That customer will be out of here in half an hour.”

He counts to ten and then walks out to tell the customer he turned up the thermostat. The customer, all smiles, takes off their jacket and says they feel warmer already.

Related:
Placebo Me, Part 9
Placebo Me, Part 8
Placebo Me, Part 7
Placebo Me, Part 6
Placebo Me, Part 5

I’ve recently moved into a new area and decided to visit the bar around the corner. As soon as I walk in, I spot a large sign above the bar. It has yellow, black, and red alternating stripes along the border, and in big bold letters, it says:

Sign: “WARNING! Staff are under no obligation to respond kindly to unfriendly, hostile, or abusive behavior.”

I take a place at the bar.

Bartender: “Hi, what can I get ya?”

Me: “A pint of [beer] please. Nice sign by the way.”

Bartender: *Smiles broadly.* “The perks of being a family business.”

I have a feeling I’ll be in more often.

A woman walks up to me as soon as she walks into the store.

Customer: “My son needs a game.”

Me: “Okay, do you know what kind?”

Customer: “A kind he can play on his box.”

Me: “Oh, okay, he has the Xbox then. What kind of games does he like?”

Customer: “I don’t know. Why would I know?”

Me: “Okay, how old is he?”

Customer: “Ten.”

I find some age-appropriate game options for a ten-year-old from multiple genres, and she just goes with the cheapest.

She’s back an hour later, with a ten-year-old boy in tow, asking for a refund.

Customer’s Son: *To his mom.* “Why did you think I had an Xbox? It’s a Switch!”

Customer: “They’re all just boxes! You never told me there was a difference!”

Back in the glory days of DVDs and DVD burners, I’m on a tech support call with a caller who is having trouble writing to a disc.

Me: “Hmm, well, I have to admit I’m running out of troubleshooting here. You have the latest driver; we’ve uninstalled and reinstalled the software.”

Caller: “Maybe it’s the disc I’m using. It’s different from the others.”

Me: “Different? How?”

Caller: “It’s clear.”

Me: “Clear as in… empty?”

Caller: “Clear as in see-through. I can see straight through it.”

Oh my God…

Me: “Ma’am, was it the first disc in the stack? Do the rest of the discs in the stack look normal?”

Caller: “I guess?”

Me: “Ma’am, you have been trying to use the clear plastic disk at the top of the stack. That… isn’t a disc.”

Caller: “Well then, why include it in the pack then! Stupid idiots!”

She puts a real disc in next, and everything is back to normal within seconds. She scored me one star on the post-call survey as I should have “realized sooner”.