Like a lot of people, I collected unemployment during the COVID19 shutdowns. During the time I was getting payments, I carefully followed all the instructions and rules to a T. I was very aware that I was lucky to be able to have this opportunity and wanted to do it right.

So, I was surprised when, five years after I’d been re-hired to my old job (school bus drivers can’t work remotely very easily), I got a letter from my state’s unemployment department that I had been overpaid, and owed money. I continued reading the letter and saw my total owed.

$0.00

I checked my online account, and it had the same information. I needed to repay my zero dollars of overpayment as soon as possible, call to set up a payment plan, or dispute the charges. I called the number, and a very helpful woman told me that it was an error. I owed no money, and I could ignore the letter.

The next month, I got another one.

And another one the next month.

And again.

After the sixth letter, I called again. I was concerned that the department was trying to collect an actual amount and wanted to pay it if I really did owe something. Another helpful worker confirmed that I owed nothing, and the letters should stop soon.

I got three more.

Finally, on the tenth letter, I wrote a check for zero dollars and zero cents and mailed it in the provided envelope.

The next month, I got another letter from the department–this time thanking me for bringing the matter to their attention and assuring me that I owed nothing and would stop receiving letters. I’m happy to say that now, three months later, I haven’t gotten anything from them!

Caller: “Where the f*** is my couch!?”

I recognize the voice as an uppity customer I’d spoken to two days earlier.

Me: “Sir, are you the customer who ordered the jade-colored corner couch two days ago in the store?”

Caller: “That’s right! Now where the h*** is it?!”

Me: “Sir, as was explained to you when you ordered it, that couch is being manufactured in Italy and then will be shipped over. All custom orders like that take time.”

Caller: “Well, any delays are unacceptable! What else are we supposed to sit on in the meantime?”

Me: “Your old couch?”

Caller: “I got rid of the old couch, obviously! Right after I placed the order for the new one. We’re sitting on the floor to watch TV, so delays are unacceptable.”

Me: “Uh, sir, there are no delays. You were told your couch would be eight to ten weeks. Any time during or before that is standard. It would need to be longer than ten weeks for it to count as a delay. When the sofa is with us, we call you to schedule delivery, so you have plenty of time to get the old furniture out of the way without sitting on the floor for months.”

Caller: “Well, what the f*** are we supposed to sit on?!”

Me: “Sir, if it was so obvious for you to get rid of your old couch as soon as you placed an order for a new one, I would also say it’s obvious that you try to get it back.”

Caller: “God d*** it! We took it out the back yesterday and shot the s*** out of it for target practice!” *Click.*

I still find it laughable that this guy thought what he did was “obviously” the logical thing to do.

A customer calls over my coworker, who is waiting on her.

Customer: “There’s a hair in my meal.”

Coworker: “May I see it?”

The customer holds up a single hair while continuing to complain.

Customer: “I want a new meal.”

It should be noted that she’s more than halfway through her meal.

Customer: “And I don’t expect to pay for either.”

Coworker: “Ma’am, since it’s obvious that I’m not going to get a tip from you, here’s one from me. If you’re gonna complain about hair in your food, first, make sure it’s a straight black hair of one of the Central American men working in the kitchen, and not from your three-foot, curly weave extension.”

The customer gasped and demanded a manager, who promptly told her to pay for her meal and get the f*** out.

I work at a restaurant that’s owned by a single dude; no chain, no corporate, no f***s to give. I believe this lack of corporate interference and the owner opening the restaurant as a labor of love is what contributes to the great quality of the food, which does not go unnoticed by the local town.

The restaurant currently has an hour’s wait (we don’t do bookings), and a lady marches up to the host stand, where the owner is currently working.

Customer: “Table for six.”

Owner: “Can I get your name? The waitlist is about an hour.”

She takes a second, and this look of sheer anger appears on her face.

Customer: “How? This place isn’t even that good.”

Owner: “THEN WHY THE F*** ARE YOU HERE?!”

Shockingly, she quietly gave a name and came back an hour later. Her table was perfectly behaved and tipped well. I guess some people just need that quick jolt of a reminder to be decent humans…

Manager: “So… I’m reviewing the latest batch of bad reviews. The usual BS they think we need to give a s*** about, but then I came across this one.”

My manager slides his tablet over to me, and I read the one-star review:

Customer Complaint: “Your bathroom is in your stockroom and difficult for a customer to access!”

Me: “So… a customer came through our stockroom to use the employee bathroom?”

Manager: “Funnily enough, the day of the complaint is the same day as the great blockage incident of last month. Here I was worried that one of our people had some serious bowel issues, but it turns out it was likely this guy.”

Me: “Are you going to respond to him?”

Manager: “I’ll remind him where the actual customer bathrooms are… and maybe recommend he go see a doctor.”