If your barista passes out, please don't do this
"I used to work as a barista at a Starbucks that was located inside a Barnes & Noble. This Barnes & Noble was in a very busy neighborhood in a fairly large city, so we had our share of weirdos come in. For example, there was a man who would come and order a coffee and sit there with a pile of books, but he wouldn't actually read, he would just hide behind the book and spy on people. I know this because he sat there holding a book upside down for an hour once.
"Among our weird customers was a man who would come in every single morning and order an apple pocket. I think that's what they were called; it was basically an apple dumpling. And I'm talking every. Single. Day. He would pay with exact change, we would microwave the apple pocket for him, and he would sit down and eat it.
"One day, I'm the only person behind the counter, and I really don't feel well. Apple Pocket Man comes in, I put his apple pocket in the microwave for him, and I get that fuzzy, everything's-going-black feeling that you get before you pass out. I weakly slide down the wall and sit on the floor, and way off in the distance, through the roaring in my ears, I hear Apple Pocket Man asking me a question. I was right on the edge of passing out, and I thought that he asked if he should go get help, so I said yes. Dude walks behind the counter, STEPS OVER MY BODY, gets his apple pocket out of the microwave, STEPS BACK OVER MY BODY, and sits down at a table to eat." -- Rebecca DiPonto
The most committed customer complaint ever
"I work at a bar/restaurant in Australia and was serving a woman in the restaurant area. She asked me what the petite filet mignons were, so I explained they're basically mini-steaks wrapped in bacon, and that three of them came in one serving. She ordered it.
"After a food runner ran the lady's filets, he came back and found me to tell me she was complaining there were only two steaks. Before going to the table, I asked the chef why there were only two, and he said the only reason we had been putting three on a plate lately was because the sous chef had measured and cut the last batch incorrectly, so they were much smaller than intended. They had been putting three on a plate to make up for it.
"When I went to the table, I passed on what the chef had told me and explained that she was still getting the same amount of meat she would have had with three filets, since these were larger cuts. She made some awkward comment along the lines of, 'OK, just making sure, because I wouldn't want to have to get you fired or anything.' OK, that's an awkward thing to say, but whatever. She finished her meal, even ordered dessert, and had no more complaints.
"Fast-forward to two months later. She and her husband arrived exactly at opening time and requested to speak with a manager. The manager came down to speak with them and even took them up to his office. Later, he came down and took some cash from the cash register.
"Once they left, my manager looked at me and said, 'What fucking psychos.' I asked him what had happened and he told me they came in because of her experience two months earlier. She had mailed us a HANDWRITTEN COMPLAINT and had a photocopied version with her on her return. She said she had given us two weeks to respond before contacting the Fair Trade Bureau about receiving two petite filet mignons and not three, even after I explained it was the same amount of meat. Also, she had seemed to accept the reason I gave her (even though she made that awkward comment about getting me fired). Had she thrown some big fit, I would have asked the kitchen to cook her another one, but she didn't seem angry.
"Anyway, Fair Trade basically blew her off (for obvious reasons), so she decided to just come complain in person. My manager also told me her husband said he had been 'researching contract law' and that legally I would be an agent of the restaurant and blah blah blah all this fake law jargon to try and scare my manager into firing me or something. My manager refunded them the $16 for the petite filets, but basically blew everything else off.
"Later that same day, we received a phone call from this woman. She asked what our address was, and I told her. 'Hmmm, interesting. That's the address that my receipt from today says and that's the address I mailed my letter to, but I can't find that address posted anywhere in the phonebook.'
"Me: 'Um, well, I'm not sure why it wouldn't be in the phonebook but that is our address. It's posted on our website as well.'
"Lunatic: 'Well, that's the address I mailed my letter to, so I don't understand why your manager didn't receive it.'
"Me: 'There are actually several businesses in the same building. Perhaps it accidentally got put in someone else's mailbox?'
"Lunatic (almost screaming now): 'Well I addressed it to the manager of (restaurant).'
"Me: 'I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't really have an answer as to why your letter wasn't received.'
"Lunatic: 'I find it interesting that the receipt I received when I first came in has your address written on it but not your phone number, yet the receipt I received today has your address and phone number written on it. I find it interesting I've been given two different receipts.'
"Me: 'Uh, well… I'm sorry about that?'
"Lunatic: 'You will never be receiving business from me ever again!'
"Me: 'OK, I'm sorry about your experience. Have a good afternoon.' *hangs up*
"I have absolutely no idea what point she was trying to get at with the receipts (especially since she already received her refund and there was literally nothing else to be done about the situation). Maybe she should ask her husband with his internet law degree." -- Nora Carter
The worst customer in Canadian restaurant history
"I work at a somewhat-local pizza chain that has expanded across the province of Ontario in recent years to about 30 locations, seven of which are in my small city. I make the pizzas, and am also a closer, but most of the time I'm on the cash register for pickup orders. I've had a lot of shit customers but this older lady really took the pie.
"This older lady comes in on a super-busy Friday with her husband and orders two specialty pizzas, 40 hot wings, and breadsticks. OK, good, I say, that'll be about 40 minutes because we are very busy. She pretends to act dumbfounded and declares that she's not going anywhere until she gets her food. I say she's welcome to stay until her order is ready, in approximately 40 minutes. She huffs and stands there, crossing her arms, glaring at me for the next. Half. Hour. She was actually obstructing other customers from getting their pizza or paying for their orders and I had to open my second till down the counter because she just wouldn't freaking move no matter how much I or the other customers asked her. Her husband stood there like a bump on a log.