Me: “Thank you for calling [Fast Food Restaurant]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yea, I’m calling about the nuts you put in my son’s ice cream.”

Me: “Um, sir, we don’t sell ice cream here.”

Caller: “Yeah, you did. I came in last night.”

Me: “Sir, this is [Fast Food Restaurant]. We don’t serve ice cream here.”

Caller: “Yeah, you do. For 49 cents. And you put nuts in my son’s ice cream! I’d like to speak to your manager!”

Me: “You’re speaking to her.”

Caller: “Oh, and you said you don’t serve ice cream here?”

Me: “No, sir, we don’t. I think you needed the number for [Other Restaurant] across the street.”

Caller: You own both the restaurants?

Me: “No, sir, we don’t. We’re just us.”

Caller: *long pause* “So what kind of desserts do you sell there?”

Me: “Cinnamon Twists.”

Caller: “I hate those things. What else you got?”

Me: “Cinnamon Twists. That’s it.”

Caller: “I heard you say that! What else do you have?”

Me: “That’s it.”

Caller: *longer pause* “Well, can you concoct something for me if I came in?”

Me: “No, sir, we can’t do that.”

Caller: “Oh…”

Me: “Was there anything else you needed help with?”

Caller: “No. Just to clarify, you don’t sell ice cream?”

Me: “That’s right.”

Caller: *long pause* “You should probably hang up now.”

This story is part of the Lying-Customers-Getting-Caught roundup!

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(I work in a coffee shop, and it is against the rules to bring pets into the store. A young woman comes inside, yelling into a phone. A two-year-old child is with her. A few minutes later she brings her dog inside, too.)

Customer: *yelling into phone* “I don’t f****** care! Get me a f****** ride!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, you need to take your dog outside.”

Customer: “F*** off, I’ll take him outside soon.”

(The customer then proceeds to continue yelling into the phone.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, you need to take your dog outside right now.”

Customer: “I said f*** off; I’ll take him outside in a second!”

(The customer proceeds to scream into the phone, looking back at my coworker every couple of seconds to scream at her, too.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, if you refuse to speak to me politely and don’t take your dog outside, we will call the pol—”

Customer: “CALL THE F****** POLICE, THEN!”

(We call the police, who find her camped out in our drive-thru, still screaming into her phone. The last we see of her, she’s being taken away by the cops, with her child in a separate cruiser.)

Me: “Do you want to know the scariest part of all that?”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “During the entirety of that whole exchange, that kid didn’t bat an eye. Didn’t cry or anything.”

Coworker: “That is terrifying.”

(You can tell that child was used to her mother’s tantrums.)

(I am helping a new associate fill out some new hire paperwork. I double check their paperwork.)

Me: “So, I see here on your taxes that someone claims you as a dependent.”

New Associate: “No, no one claims me as an dependent.”

Me: “Okay, then you will have to change ‘Dependent’ to ‘Single, Head of Household’ so the IRS knows you will be filing your own taxes.”

New Associate: “Do I have to? Every time I claim myself on my taxes, I end up owing money.”

Me: “…Yes. Otherwise, that would be tax fraud…”

(I work at an amusement park. They are very strict about the money, and I am the head cashier. It’s about 100 degrees out, and there’s a long line of about 100 people waiting to place an order. A customer rudely cuts everyone in line, and starts talking to me.)

Rude Customer: “Hey, bud, can you give me four quarters for a dollar?”

Customer #2: “Hey, I was in line!”

Rude Customer: “Relax, I’ll only be a second.”

(The customer ignores the rest of the customers complaints.)

Me: “No, sir. I’m sorry; we’re not allowed to open the register.”

Rude Customer: “Aw, come on, man! I just need four quarters.”

Me: “Well, if you want change, you can go to the customer service desk at the front of the park.”

Rude Customer: “Are you f****** serious!? It’s 100 f****** degrees outside; I am not going to the other side of the d*** park, you a**-wipe!”

Customer #2: “Dude, no need to be a jack-a**. Plus, you cut in line, anyway.”

Rude Customer: “Mind your own business, you old lady. Dude, seriously, give me my f****** change for a dollar!”

(My manager overhears.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem here?”

Rude Customer: “I need change for this f****** dollar, and your stupid-a** cashier won’t do it.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir. We’re not allowed to make change for a dollar. You need to go to the front of the park and go to customer service. They’ll do i—”

Rude Customer: “I was already f****** told that! And I already said, I am not walking all the f****** way over there!”

Customer #3: “Dude, shut the f*** up already! We’re waiting in line for food, and clearly you’re not getting your change!”

Rude Customer: “Mind your own d*** business! I need it ’cause my girlfriend is on her f****** period!”

Customer #4: “Here’s a stupid quarter, you a**-wipe!”

([Customer #4] proceeds to throw quarters at [Rude Customer], who proceeds to pick up the quarters. My manager bends over the counter and looks down at the man.)

Manager: “You have 10 minutes to get your girlfriend her tampon, and out of my park, before I call security!”

(The customers in line started clapping as he ran away, with no girlfriend in sight!)

(I work in a coffee place that has “special” names for their sizes. Since no one can ever get them right, I just started saying small, medium, and large to make it easier.)

Customer: “I’ll have a vanilla latte, please.”

Me: “Sure. Would you like the large?”

Customer: “Yeah. That’s the small, right?”