A friend of mine owns a restaurant, which has not been easy during the past few years, as you can imagine. When the hard lockdowns fell and restaurants and bars could open again, there were some pretty rigid rules and very stiff fines.

One such rule was a curfew at 10:00 pm, and you’d better not break it because that fine was huge. Our president was actually hit with one and, to his credit, he paid it without questioning it and made a public apology for his misconduct.

As we were approaching 10:00 and people were ushered out of the restaurant, one person tried to come in.

Customer: “You open?”

Friend: “Nope, we’re closing. Curfew, 10:00 pm, no can do, sorry.”

Customer: “I just want a coffee.”

Friend: “Sorry, curfew.”

Customer: “C’mon, make an exception. I need one.”

Friend: “Sure, that will be €3,003.50.”

Customer: “What? Are you insane?”

Friend: “€3.50 for the coffee, and €3,000 for the fine I’ll have to pay for serving it. Take it or leave it.”

The man left — it and the restaurant.

I am a security guard at a sports stadium during a busy event. An angry-looking customer has left his seat and found me in the concourse.

Customer: “There are two perverts making a display of themselves for all to see!”

Shocked, I follow him and start looking around. I see no evidence of a “perverted display”. I ask him for details.

Customer: *Pointing* “Those two men! Right there!”

Me: “They’re just sitting down during halftime, sir. What am I supposed to be seeing here?”

Customer: “Well, they’re not doing it now, but earlier one got down on his knee and proposed to the other! At a football match! That’s obscene!”

Me: “So, you’re saying the perverted display was a couple getting engaged in public?”

Customer: “These two men should not be promoting their choices in front of a crowd, especially my children!”

Me: “Ah… So, it’s homophobia, then.”

Customer: “It is not homophobia, but they’re ramming it down our throats! All the time! I’m sick of seeing it!”

Me: “But you wouldn’t have had an issue if the couple proposing in front of everyone was straight?”

Customer: “Well… I…”

Me: “Sir, what I do next based on your complaint means you need to answer me honestly right now. Would you have an issue with any couple getting engaged at the stadium, or is it just that particular couple?”

Customer: “Look, I can see what you’re trying to do. I can see that you’re not sympathetic to my values so I would like to talk to the guy in charge.”

Me: “In charge of security?”

Customer: “Yes!”

I comply with his request and call over the head of security who is, by her own admission, the “butchest lesbian on the East Coast”. She is terrifying when she wants to be, and after I tell her why I have called her over, she comes by on a rampage. As soon as she approaches, I introduce her to the customer.

Customer: *To me* “This is the head of security?!”

Me: “As requested!”

Security Manager: “So, you’re the one whose masculinity was attacked by two men finding happiness?”

Customer: “That is no way to professionally deal with a complaint!”

Security Manager: “If you had a complaint, then I would take it seriously. You have a prejudice, and those I will mock like the useless wastes of oxygen that they are. Now, will you shut up and enjoy the second half of the game, or will I be doing some escorting today?”

The customer glares at us both but says he will try to focus on the game despite the obscene displays.

Security Manager: “Excellent! I’m going to enjoy watching the game myself from riiiiiight here, just to make sure that all our valued guests can also enjoy the rest of the game without anyone causing a scene.”

She does as she said she would, and the bigot leaves his seat a few minutes before the end of the game. He mutters something about sexuality being a choice and how we shouldn’t defend that choice.

Manager: *Shouting out to him as he leaves* “Oh, my God! It’s a choice! Why didn’t you tell me? That would have saved me years of homelessness after being kicked out! Wow… I learned something new today!”

I love working with her.

Two male customers are enjoying their brunch, occasionally giving each other pecks on the lips. Another customer at a nearby table approaches them.

Other Customer: “Excuse me, but could you stop doing that? This is a family place, and you’re making me uncomfortable.”

Gay Customer #1: “You’d like us to stop doing what? Enjoying our eggs?”

Other Customer: “You know… the gay stuff.”

Gay Customer #2: *To his partner* “Honey, he’s obviously talking about your order of the fruit salad.” *To the other custome.* “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll make sure he orders the hetero-hash from now on.”

Other Customer: “Look, I know how you types like to be sassy, but I’m just nicely asking.”

Gay Customer #1: “You still haven’t told us what you’re ‘nicely’ asking of us.”

Other Customer: “Look, we just don’t believe in gay people, so—”

Gay Customer #1: “Oh, my God! You don’t believe we exist?!”

Gay Customer #2: “Honey! Nooo! Stop just ordering the salad! You’ve lost so much weight that you’ve stopped existing!”

Other Customer: “You know what I mean! Please stop with the indecent displays, or I’ll have to call over the manager!”

Luckily, I’ve been witnessing the entire conversation, and I’ve called the manager over preemptively. The manager has been present for the last few exchanges.

Manager: *To the other customer* “Sir, I am the manager here. Can you please sit at your table and enjoy your meal silently?”

Other Customer: “You need to ask those two gentlemen to leave! They’re being indecent!”

The manager looks at the two gay men and then back at the other customer.

Manager: “I can’t kick them out, sir. They don’t exist.”

Other Customer: *Shouting now* “That is not what I meant, and you know it!”

Manager: “Okay, sir, I’m done. Please pay for your food and leave.”

Other Customer: “I will not be paying for food at a place that tolerates [homophobic slur]s!”

Manager: “And we don’t tolerate people who do not pay for their food… and neither do the police. Will I be calling 911?”

The other customer stares down at my manager but eventually tosses a couple of bills on the table and gathers up his wife and child.

Other Customer: *As he’s storming out* “This place is disgusting!”

My manager waves him goodbye and then turns to the gay couple.

Manager: “Sorry about that, gentlemen. Can I offer you a free dessert for the trouble?”

Gay Customer #1: “I guess we could exist again for a bowl of ice cream…”

They became two of our favorite new regulars!

I have a fourteen-year-old car that still runs well, but it developed a slow oil leak. Eventually, the leak got worse. I recently moved to a new town, so I needed to find a good mechanic. I found a place nearby, but they wanted me to leave it in the morning. This worked for me, and I had a coworker take me to work and back.

The mechanic said that I needed the valve cover gasket and the oil pan gasket replaced, and since they were difficult to get to, it would cost me $1,600. I was a little shocked, but since I didn’t know much about cars, I figured this would be okay.

I told him I’d bring my car back out in a few days (so I could arrange for the funds).

I mentioned this to a friend of mine. He also didn’t know much about cars, but he felt suspicious. I decided to get a second opinion from another nearby mechanic, who happened to have the same last name as the first mechanic. He inspected my car and quoted me $525.

Me: “Wow, the last guy who checked it told me it would be $1,600.”

Mechanic #2: “Who was it?”

Me: “[Mechanic #1], out there on [Road].”

Mechanic #2: “Oh, that’s my cousin. I don’t have any business with him. Now you know why.”

I was grateful for my friend’s instincts. I might have paid three times as much as I should!

I worked at a sandwich store in the early 1990s. The store did their own deliveries. An Army base was close by, and they were the majority of deliveries. We had this one regular guy who always had the same complaint.

Caller: “I didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

The next time he ordered, we put in one-and-a-half times the usual jalapeños without charging extra.

Caller: “You guys are either stupid or cheap! I still didn’t get enough jalapeños!”

After a few more complaints and rude words, I made his next order by pouring some of the jalapeño juice and tons of seeds from the jalapeño bin onto the bread.

The following week:

Caller: “Go light on jalapeños.”