My husband is getting his hair cut while I wait for him. The salon is in a mall, so it’s generally pretty busy, but this is a rainy Saturday, so it is VERY busy. A woman in her fifties walks in with her mother around 11:45.

Customer: “[Customer] for an appointment at 11:30.”

Stylist: “We have you down for a 12:30.”

Customer: “Well, I need 11:30.”

Stylist: “I see. Unfortunately, we are fully booked today, so—”

Customer: “So, figure it out. I drove fifteen minutes to get to you, and I have an appointment. My mother can barely walk, and you’re going to make us come back again? I might as well cancel and take my business elsewhere if that’s how it’s going to be.”

Stylist: “Okay, ma’am, I will remove you from our system. Have a nice day.”

The stylist smiles politely and walks away. The customer is left standing there, open-mouthed.

Customer: “Hello? Hello, I’m not done talking to you. Hello! Excuse you!”

Customer’s Mother: “That’s enough, [Customer]. You opened your mouth; now you deal with the consequences. Let’s go.”

Customer: “I need my hair cut, Mom!”

The mother walked away — not remotely limited in movement as her daughter had implied — and the daughter soon followed. The stylist returned and apologized for the commotion.

Related:
Oh, No! If It Isn’t The Consequences Of My Own Actions!, Part 2
Oh, No! If It Isn’t The Consequences Of My Own Actions!

I work in a fine-dining restaurant. Our clientele can get a little eccentric.

Customer: “I want the chicken pasta but with no chicken.”

Me: “So, just the pasta by itself?”

Customer: “No, I want chicken pasta with no chicken.”

Me: “Our pasta dishes are all made fresh. We just add chicken, beef, and so on, on top based on the dish being ordered. What would you like on your pasta?”

The customer is not really paying attention, just waving me away.

Customer: “I want chicken pasta with no chicken.”

I simply shrug and tell the chef, who presents everything we normally put on a chicken pasta plate, minus the actual chicken. When I bring it out:

Customer: “That was too fast! This can’t possibly be my dish.”

Me: “Like I was saying, ma’am, our pasta dishes are all made fresh. We simply made the pasta and added the ingredients normally found on the chicken pasta, just minus the chicken.”

Customer: *Listening for the first time* “Oh… so you didn’t have to go about picking out the chicken?”

Me: “No, ma’am. That would have taken forever!”

Customer: “Oh, I thought I’d be setting you all to work. That’s disappointing.”

She reluctantly eats her meal, but she seems to be genuinely upset that she didn’t set us an impossible task. She tries to stump us at dessert.

Customer: “Your pistachio cheesecake… Are the pistachios—”

Me: “They’re sprinkled on top along with a compote. If you order it without the pistachios, we wouldn’t need to go through the cake picking out particulates of nut.”

Customer: *Disappointed* “I… see.”

She ordered it anyway. She still paid the full chicken pasta price for her plain pasta.

I got a call from my old college one day soliciting me for donations. I told them I only donated money to GiveWell, but the person on the phone was rather persistent in trying to convince me that I should donate to the college. I was starting to consider hanging up on him when he changed tactics.

Man: “What did you study when you were here?”

Me: “Computer science.”

Man: “Oh, really? That’s what I’m taking. Any tips for me?”

Me: “I don’t know. What year are you?”

Man: “This is my second year.”

Me: “So, you would have had [Teacher], then?”

Man: “Oh, yes.”

Me: “Great! Any interesting stories about her?”

Man: “No, not really. Why?”

Me: “Because she was the most memorable teacher we had. I used to collect interesting [Teacher] stories from everyone who told me they graduated from [School], and they always had a few. Love her or hate her, you always remember her.”

Man: “Oh, yes, I know what you mean…”

Me: “You had her for discrete math?”

Man: “Yes.”

Me: “Have you learned about polymorphism or data races yet?”

Man: “Umm… no, we haven’t gotten there yet.”

Me: “Can you tell me what the differences between Java and JavaScript are?”

Man: “I just asked for tips. What’s with all the questions?”

Me: “Okay, you want a tip? How about this? [Teacher] never taught discrete math and was transferred to the math department the year I graduated. Polymorphism is taught to first-year computer science majors, and Java and JavaScript have almost nothing in common besides their names, which is something I knew before even starting college. You’ve utterly failed to convince me that you are a computer science major, but you have convinced me you are definitely not an acting major because your lies were all terribly forced and blatantly obvious, even to someone like me. Also, if you want someone to believe you’re a computer science major, don’t act confused when you’re told the most basic of geeky jokes like at the start of our call.”

Man: “I’m sorry if…”

Me: “Another tip: trying to make me nostalgic for my college years will not make me waste my money by giving it to you rather than an efficient charity, and lying to me will especially not help. Remove me from your contact list, please.”

I hung up on him after that, though I’m curious if he still kept using the “I’m in your major so let’s be buddies” approach with anyone else. I almost hope he did; he was so obviously false when he said it that I imagine he would get called out on it more often than not. It would be fun to see how others responded to such blatant lies.

Our store is across the street from a nursing home. Almost every day, we see an older couple come into the store to just look around. They go through the same routine every day, and they don’t really buy anything, but we don’t mind. 

The husband comes over to me one day after we make eye contact and I smile at him a little.

Husband: “I wanted to say thanks for letting us come in every day. It really means the world to us.”

Me: “Oh, it’s no bother at all. I’m sure there are nicer places to visit than this little old store, though!” 

Husband: “Well, it’s for my wife. She has trouble remembering these days, but we always used to come to this store together every Tuesday, and she’d work through her list, thinking up all the dinners she’d feed us all week until the next Tuesday. She doesn’t remember who I am most days, but every time we come in here, it’s suddenly Tuesday, and she gets all excited about the dinners she wants to make.”

Me: “Oh… I… I don’t know what to say.” 

Husband: “Nothing to say. I just wanted to say thank you.”

His wife walked past with a list in her hand, smiling and calling her husband over to help her choose a cereal.

Every day for the next year, we’d see them reliving her Tuesdays, happy with her list, until one day we didn’t see them for a while. He came back a few weeks later to tell us that his wife was grocery shopping in Heaven now, and he couldn’t wait to try some of the meals she was cooking up for him one day.

We all loved him for how much he loved her.

I was a cashier at a fast food restaurant on weekends when I was in my teens. It wasn’t much money, but I wanted to work, and they were the only place that would hire me.

Between a Saturday and a Sunday, several of our prices went up — ten cents here, fifty cents there. Nobody told me about it, but I found out quite quickly. My very first customer of the day was a man in his forties.

Me: “Hi, how—”

Customer: “[Burger meal], large chocolate shake.”

Me: “Okay. A [burger meal] and a large chocolate shake comes to [new total].”

Customer: “What? No, it’s [old total].”

Me: “Um… a [Burger meal] and a large chocolate shake, right?”

Customer: “Yeah. How is it more today than it was last week?”

Me: “I… uh… I just put it in, and—”

Customer: *Louder* “Are you trying to rip me off? Do you think I’m f****** stupid?”

Manager: “[My Name]! What is going on?” *Gently* “How can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “This girl is trying to steal from you and me! She said my meal is [new total], but it should be [old total].”

Manager: “I see. I apologize, sir; corporate did raise some of our prices last night. Let me fix that for you. I will give you yesterday’s price, but going forward it will be the new price. Would you like a free apple pie for your inconvenience?”

Customer: “Yes. And train this one to learn to read, too.”

Me: “I was—”

Manager: “Of course, sir. Your meal will be out in a minute. [My Name], come with me.”

I followed him to fill the fries and shake. I was pretty upset by the whole ordeal.

Manager: “We raised some prices. If anyone causes a scene, just call for me and I’ll tell them it was corporate, and I’ll honor the old price for today only.”

Me: “Okay… Why wasn’t I told there were new prices?”

Manager: “We don’t have time to hold your hand. Go take this to the customer and apologize for the confusion.”

I went back to my register and put everything on the tray.

Me: “Here is your order, sir. Have a nice day.”

Customer: *Yelling* “You f***ed up my order! You stupid b****! I—”

A regular elderly gentleman who only ever ordered a senior coffee came up and cracked his cane on the register counter. Everyone around us stopped.

Regular: “If my child ever talked to a young lady like that, I’d have whooped him good and sent him to bed without supper.”

Customer: *Flustered* “I was—”

Regular: “I saw. The whole store saw. On your way, son.”

The man took his tray and sat down. My manager rushed over and grabbed me by the arm.

Manager: “What was that?!”

Regular: “I have daughters, and I’ll be d***ed to Hell before I let anyone treat them like he treated her. Only makes sense to watch the other daughters, too.”

He gave my manager a hard look, and I was released.

Manager: “Oh.” *Pause* “You only get a coffee, right?”

Regular: “I do. It’s gone up, I understand.”

Manager: “[My Name], get the man his coffee. On the house.”

I do not miss those customers, that job, or the managers, but I do miss that old man.