I’m waiting tables at a restaurant, and a customer in my section flags me down.

Customer: “Excuse me, can you tell me what the dressing for [salad] contains?”

Me: “Sure.”

I give her a list of the ingredients.

Customer: “Hmm…”

Me: “Is… something wrong?”

Customer: “Well, I have an allergy.”

I wait. No further information is forthcoming.

Me: “An allergy to…?”

Customer: “That’s what I’d like to know! I thought it was a dairy allergy, because this salad gave me a reaction unless I ordered it without the dressing, but I’ve been told that your [dessert] ALSO contains dairy, so that can’t be it. And now I want to know what’s setting me off before I go trying any other dishes.”

Me: “Oh. Um…”

Customer: “Sorry, I’m not expecting you to help me figure this out. I’ll get the [salad] without the dressing, play it safe.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

I’m working in a hotel restaurant. A large group has just enjoyed a late-night Sunday dinner.

Guest: “Charge it all to me at [room number].”

Me: “Of course, sir.”

Guest: “And the cocktail was lovely. Can you send a couple of glasses up to my room?”

Me: “Of course, sir.”

This is all squared away, and I continue my business. The restaurant closes at 11 PM, and we go about our cleaning duties. The kitchen stays partially open for late-night room service until 2 AM, and I take a call from a guest expecting one of those.

Guest: “Hello! I had a couple of glasses of [Cocktail] brought up to my room earlier, and they were delicious! I’d like two more!”

Me: “I remember, sir, and I am happy you enjoyed them. Unfortunately, as it is now 1 AM, we’re unable to serve any more liquor until tomorrow.”

Guest: “If it’s past midnight, then it’s already tomorrow!”

Me: “We’ll be able to serve liquor again when alcohol service resumes tomorrow morning. Also, it would be illegal in the state of Utah for me to bring any liquor up to your room right now.”

Guest: “You kidding?! Back home I can drink until 2 AM!”

Me: “This is state law in Utah, sir.”

Guest: “I knew something was up when my minibar only had sodas!”

Me: “I can bring you any non-alcoholic drink, sir. I can even make a non-alcoholic version of that cocktail if you—”

Guest: “—Bring me two of those cocktails, with alcohol, and I’ll tip you a hundred.”

Me: “Sir, it’s not a matter of—”

Guest: “—Did you hear me?! A hundred!”

Me: “Hmm, well, sir, for requests that break hotel policy, I charge three times my annual salary. This is to give me time to look for a new career after I’m barred from working in every hotel and restaurant in the state ever again. For requests that also break the law, I charge ten times my annual salary for the impending bail money and legal fees.”

Guest: *Click.*

I work in a fancy coffee place in the middle of a rich suburban neighborhood with multi-million-dollar homes and celebrity customers. 

Most of the rich clientele are fine, but I’ve noticed that when some of them are bad, they’re the worst. 

A new barista is working the register, and they came across as quiet and timid during training, so I’m keeping an eye on them in case I need to step in.

Customer: “I’ll get the mango cooler, no ice.”

Since this is a pre-mixed drink, the new barista can pour it right there for the customer. I see her perfectly measure it out and give her half a cup of drink. Without the ice, the drink only goes halfway up the cup, so this is correct.

Customer: “Uh? Helloooo? I wanted it filled all the way up.”

Barista: “Without ice, that is filled all the way up. Unless… you wanted two drinks for the price of one? I’m new here; I don’t know of such a sale.”

Customer: *Turning beet red, but not backing down.* “It’s not a sale, it’s common courtesy! Your drinks are already a rip-off, so—”

Barista: “I’m sorry, who made you come here? I’d hate to think you’re being forced to come here when the prices are out of your reach! Would you like me to call someone? Are you in trouble?”

Customer: “F*** you b****!” *Turns heel and storms out.*

Barista: *Calling out to the customer.* “Ma’am, don’t you want your lukewarm “iced” drink?!”

Yeah, I think the new girl is gonna be juuuuust fine.

I used to work in a trendy bakery in a rather pretentious area. During this time, being gluten-free and/or vegan was all the rage, and sharing your meals on social media was just about becoming popular. Because of this, we offered our signature cupcakes in both gluten-free and vegan options.

Customer: “Can I get the gluten-free cupcake with the vegan frosting?”

Me: “I’m afraid not, ma’am. One negates the other?

Customer: *Blank look.*

Sigh…

Me: “The vegan frosting isn’t gluten-free, and the gluten-free cupcake is not vegan. Combining both means you have neither.”

Customer: “Combine them anyway. If I eat them separately, I can still tell people I ate a gluten-free and vegan snack!”

I sigh and look at my manager, who nods and does it. After she leaves:

Me: “Do these people genuinely not understand how we can’t see right through their fake allergies and diets?”

Manager: “Wait until this afternoon. We’re gonna run out of the gluten-free cupcakes, and the customers asking for them will just go ahead and order a regular cupcake. Like why order the gluten-free one in the first place then?!”

I work in a store that sells a lot of non-precious gems. My manager is talking to an angry customer. The customer storms out in a huff, then the manager walks over to me, looking tired.

Manager: “Can you put a sign up next to the Tiger’s Eyes?”

He points to a bowl of chatoyant gemstones. Their brown to yellow stripes give them their name.

Me: “Saying what?”

Manager: “That these are not real tiger’s eyes and no actual tigers were blinded in the sourcing of these minerals…”

Me: “I’d ask if you’re joking, but I know you’re not.”

Manager: “Thanks.”

Me: “While I’m at it, shall I make a sign saying that the moonstone isn’t stone from the actual moon?”

Manager: “Yeah… at this rate it’s gonna be needed.”