If you act like this in public don’t be surprised by the consequences!
Don’t Mess With This Missus
“Right out of high school I was working for a big-box retailer. I had only been working there a couple of weeks when I saw this happen.
I was working as a cashier and this little old lady (around 80 y/o) came up with her items – and she had quite a few of them. She was walking with a walker and moved pretty slowly.
We had just opened the doors for the day, so it was around 7 am and there were only two of us, so pretty barebones staff. The rest of the staff would be in about an hour later – and this lady had been waiting at the door when we got there.
Just as she finished putting her items on the counter, this guy in a business suit comes up to the counter and asks me if I could ring him up really quickly – he was in a real rush.
I told him that was up to the lady who had just finished unloading her cart.
She said no – she was late for an appointment herself and he would have to wait.
He cut her off and INSTRUCTED me to ring him up right then. I said no. He then told me to get another cashier upfront, right this dang minute. I told him the only other person working the store at the moment was the receiving guy and he was unloading the truck – and couldn’t use the registers anyways as he didn’t have the codes to the registers. I was the only cashier and would be until 8 am.
He got really irate – I’m going to call the manager, etc. He kept raising his voice until he was almost screaming. Other customers started to gather to watch.
When he finally got to the question of ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ The little old lady yelled back at him – ‘Yeah, you’re a little prissy prick so shut the F up before I ram this walker where the sun doesn’t shine.’ She also said some other very choice words to him, but it’s inappropriate to post here.
He was just shocked by this little lady. He was so embarrassed, that he left his stuff in the basket, dropped it on the floor and left.
Turns out, this little old lady was in the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve during World War II. As the women’s division equivalent of a drill sergeant. She had been married to a USMC drill sergeant and her two kids became USMC drill sergeants.
She didn’t take trash from anybody.”
Why Didn’t Her Date Say Something?!
“Most shameful? Treating the wait staff like servants. Can’t stand it. But there’s no good story behind that, it just sort of happens here and there. Here’s the runner-up.
I was at a Cheesecake Factory location on a crowded night. The wait for a table was so long that there was a waiting list for a waitlist pager. Some people were handling the downtime better than others. One woman was constantly at the desk, accusing them of making her wait longer because of weight/orientation/whatever else occurred to her. Heaven forbid she wait her turn! It was pretty obnoxious.
Anyway, after a very long time, we were called. And that’s when she did something I never would have expected.
The man I was with, never one to look back to see if I was following, took off after the waiter. The lady saw her chance. She was a big woman and fell right into step behind him, hip-checking me out of the way in one swift motion. I went staggering off to the side, unable to believe what had just happened. She continued at a fast clip behind my date, acting as if she were the one there with him the whole time.
Confused and irritated, I scrambled along just in time to see the waiter show my date to the table. He immediately sat down and picked up the menu…again, not the gentlemanly type. With almost palpable self-satisfaction, the lady sat down across from him and immediately took a sip of water. I was stunned by the nerve of that move. Being a pain to the wait staff was one thing, but to pretend to be a stranger’s date just to sit at a table!
My date stared at her as she smiled and unrolled her silverware. A few feet away, I was reeling.
Finally, I got the waiter’s attention and said, ‘She wasn’t with us.’
My date didn’t supply any backup for that. I don’t think he knew what to do. So, of course, it was on me to prove that I wasn’t the interloper.
To be perfectly honest with you, I seriously considered walking out and leaving them to it. But one must get along, right?
Finally, she was ousted, and she flounced away. They were going to leave her water and utensils for me, and I spoke up again, which was an unprecedented amount of speaking up for me.
It was a very awkward dinner.”
Rude Waitress Part 1
“I underwent upper jaw surgery. It was an unpleasant recovery, to say the least, and I was unable to eat properly for months afterward due to the pain and nausea. I also had elastic bands on my braces keeping my teeth together to aid alignment during healing.
Around eight weeks after surgery, I had another round of routine x-rays to check for any movement, with the hospital being a decent drive away. My mother did a wonderful job caring for me and drove me to the appointment. When we went into the city we went to lunch as well, my treat. That time, we decided to get lunch at a French-style café.
The place was quite posh, with the waiters and waitresses in smart white and black uniforms and a large selection of cakes along with cakes displayed that you could order for special occasions in the storefront. It was safe to say that my heavily bruised cheeks and neck with a little blood sneaking out of my nose and mouth shocked the waitress when she greeted us.
The café was nearly empty, and once seated, we ordered because we knew exactly what we wanted. My mother ordered her usual salad and I ordered a ham and cheese omelette. I could speak reasonably well, but pointed to the menu as well as speaking. Our waitress came back with our drinks straight away, but then there was an influx of customers, and it seemed as if only one waitress aside from ours was working.
We ended up waiting forty minutes before our food came, and I wasn’t sure if my nausea was due to hunger or the usual upset I had been feeling. My mother went to the counter at one point to try and buy a packet of biscuits, but the waitresses paid her no mind, even walking past her.
I told her to just bring them to the table and we could add them to the bill, but she felt that would be rude.
So finally our food reached us, and the waitress apologizes for the wait, placed our plates down, and turned heel.
I had been given a toasted cheese and ham panini but I managed to catch her attention.”
Continued Below
Rude Waitress Part 2
I said, ‘Excuse me, I actually ordered a ham and cheese omelette.’
The waitress responded, ‘You ordered the panini.’
I said, ‘I actually said omelette. It’s fine, mistakes happen, but I do need an omelette instead.’
She retorted, ‘No, you ordered the ham and cheese panini. It says so on your order receipt, if you want me to get it and show you?’
At that point, my face was throbbing due to speaking, and I was feeling exhausted and hungry.
I asked, ‘Please can I just have a ham and cheese omelette? I can’t eat this panini.’
The waitress wrote on her notebook and snarkily said that it would be a long wait as it was busy. She left the panini on the table.
My mom had to dig into her salad as she needed to eat, and I sat there avoiding looking at the food. It had been twenty minutes since I asked for an omelette. Luckily for me, a manager came downstairs and made his rounds asking customers how their meals were. When he came to our table and noticed my mother finished and my food untouched, he asked if everything was alright with our meal.
I explained everything and mentioned that I could not eat anything hard, and even showed him my tiny spoon that I brought to fit between my elastic bands.
He was shocked, apologized, and went to the kitchen to check on my order. When he returned, he offered us free drinks while we waited.
So a few minutes later, our waitress walked to our table, I’m sure that she would be stomping were it not for the high heels, with a sour expression, and plonked my omelette down on the table.
So I finally ate and we asked for the bill. Of course, the panini was included along with our second drinks.
I mention that and she demanded that I pay because I ordered it and could not just change my mind.
I asked for the manager, and she refused. Again, luckily for me, he passed by and I called him over. I showed him the bill, reiterated what the waitress had just said, and he asked the waitress to follow him.
He came back, apologized, and said that our meal was on the house. I offered to pay for the salad and omelette, but he refused.
We did go back to that location for lunch again, and that waitress avoided us, which suited me just fine.”
How Else Could You Respond To This?
Last week I was traveling for work. It had been a long two days of meetings, and I was exhausted. I had just arrived at the airport for my evening cross country flight home, when I got the dreaded text from the airline saying my flight was delayed two hours due to mechanical problems. I decided to pass the time by getting something to eat. I found an airport restaurant and sat down to order. I ordered my food and pulled my phone out of my bag to catch up on e-mails and browse the web while waiting for my food to arrive. While I was waiting, a family with a mom, a dad, a little girl about 5 years old, and a middle school aged looking boy sat at a table near me. I didn’t pay them much attention, but then I hear the little girl exclaim in a rather loud voice, ‘Look Mom, that lady is on her phone at the table!’ I then hear the mother reply, ‘Yes, she shouldn’t be doing that. It is rude to have a phone at the table.’ I glance over and the mother says to me, ‘We have a rule that no phones are allowed at the table.’ My first reaction was to say something snarky, as exhaustion was definitely getting the better of me, but then I thought better of it and decided to be polite. I looked at the little girl and said, ‘We have the same rule in my family, but since I’m here alone, I’m not being rude to anyone by looking at my phone now.’ At this point the son looks like he wants to crawl under the table from embarrassment and the dad is trying to hand the mom a menu while saying, ‘It’s okay, let’s just order.’ I think that will be the end of it, but no.
The mom says, ‘Obviously you have a family, so you know how important it is to follow rules. I would appreciate it if you would put away your phone,’ in a tone that a parent would use on a petulant teen. The little girl chimes in and says, ‘Yeah, you have to put your phone away. My brother can’t have his phone at the table, so you can’t either.’ I look at the little girl and say in as sweet a tone as I can muster, ‘Well, the great thing about being a grown up is that I can do whatever I want, so now I’m going to keep looking at my phone,’ and I turn back to my e-mail. The mother sighs loudly, the teen looks even more embarrassed, and the dad again tries to get the mom to just order and leave me alone. The mom calls the waiter over and asks to be reseated. He begrudgingly moves them to a different table. My food arrives, and I eat in peace while still using my phone.”
50% Off Means 50% Off
“It was not the cashier but the store manager. My wife and I had stopped by a local chain store that sold discount tools. They were having a sidewalk sale and had many items sitting outside under a big sign saying 50% off. One of the items there was a milling machine with an original price of about $1000. $500 for a milling machine was a very good price.
So I went to chat with the wife who stayed in the car while I was looking around. She agreed it looked like a good deal and had no issue with me purchasing it. I grabbed the price tag off of the milling machine and headed into the store to the cashier. The first thing I did was point out the milling machine, show her the tag, and ask if it was really 50% off. She said yes she believed so and called over the store manager on duty. I asked the same question and he confirmed it was indeed 50% off.
I asked If I bought it then could I come to pick it up the following day. I only had my car and there was no way I could fit the five hundred pound milling machine in it. He said no problem he would have it moved to the back loading dock where I could pick it up the next day. So I pulled out my credit card and paid for the milling machine. I got my receipt and I left a happy camper.
The next day, I called up my buddy who had a pickup truck and he agreed to help me go pick it up and unload it into my garage. So after work, we headed over to the tool store. I went in and let the cashier know we were here to pick up the mill. She said to meet the manager around back where they can load it up for us. So we got around back and the store manager was waiting for us. The mill was sitting there and we backed up the truck.
The manager came up to us and said, ‘I’m sorry but I cannot let you have the milling machine. The price you paid is too low. We need an additional $300 or I can give you a refund.’
I told him I did not want a refund I wanted the machine. I calmly explained to him the milling machine did not belong to him anymore. I had a receipt for its purchase. The manager refused to let us load up the machine. I told him I would be in touch and we left.
After getting home, I did a little research and found the parts of the commercial code that covers sales and failure to deliver products and confirmed I was on solid legal ground. Next, I found the address of the legal representative for the chain store and the national office headquarters. I drafted a demand letter including a copy of the receipt. Sections of the commercial code and a description of what happened and my demand they deliver my machine to me by the next Friday or I would file suit in small claims court where I could claim treble damages. I sent the copies off via certified mail.
On Thursday of the next week, I got a phone call from the store manager. He apologized and said I could come by to pick up the milling machine. I told him no. I had already tried to do so and I would not go to the expense and trouble to do so. I told him he needed to deliver the machine to me at my home and gave him the address. He said there was no way he could do that. I let him know he had until Friday to deliver the machine and hung up on him.
A couple of hours later he called back and very sheepishly asked, ‘When do you want it delivered?’
I really like that milling machine.”
Furniture Stores Are Always A Disaster
“I bought a bed from a high-end English furniture company, now out of business in the U.S. It was expensive, and I had only put a small deposit on it rather than paying in full. It did not arrive at the store in the prescribed amount of time (90 days or something) and was scheduled to arrive on the exact day I was moving far away from the area. This was a problem because of the additional hassle and extra trip, and as I only had a small car I’d also have to find a borrowed or rented vehicle to go back and get it.
I explained my situation to the manager of the store, and that I would need to pick it up early in the morning, before they opened, so I could put it into my moving van and then go to pick up the people who were helping me move. She agreed and I thought everything was good. When I arrived that morning there was no one there. I waited and waited and finally, the staff showed up. I asked about getting the bed but they told me I would have to wait for the manager to show up, which I did. As soon as she arrived and went inside I knocked at the door and asked if I could get the bed. She said no, they were not open yet, and I should go around back and when her stock guys arrived she would have them open up so I could get the bed. What? What happened to her being so helpful earlier? This was before cell phones and I had people waiting for me!
I waited out back and the door never opened, and it eventually rolled around to the time the store itself was open, which put me way behind schedule to meet my friends. I went into the store and she was at the checkout. I reminded her I was waiting and had a time issue. She seemed to have no sense of urgency at all. She pulled out my paperwork and looked it over and told someone to take it back to the loading dock. Okay, I went back around and sure enough, the back door eventually opened ten minutes later and the guys gave me the bed which I had to load into the truck by myself.
I was close to an hour late when I arrived but my helpers were still there, although they did tell me they were about to leave if I didn’t show up soon. It all worked out, it just became a late day and the move wasn’t finished until evening.
Probably a year later, I got a charge on my credit card for the remaining amount of the bed as I’d only paid a small deposit. The manager had never asked me to sign anything, nor did the guys at the loading dock, so I told the credit card the charge was illegitimate. If I hadn’t been treated so badly I’d certainly have paid it, but I was still angry about the whole thing. In the end, I got a really nice piece of expensive furniture for 10% of its cost, and I still have it to this day. It’s really sturdy and nicely done and finished maple, and I’m guessing it would cost about $3,000 to buy today, if not more.”
