People will do almost anything for free stuff. Some get creative, some get bold, and some cross straight into criminal mastermind territory. From cash-counting scams to oyster-shell shenanigans, these Redditors have witnessed every trick in the book. Be honest—have you ever tried one of these sneaky moves yourself?
1. The Callback
So at work today, I get a call from a customer asking if we have a certain product in stock. I check, confirm that we do, and give him the price. Then he asks, “Do you guys price match?” I tell him yes, but we’d have to verify the competitor’s price—either by phone or an online stock check. He seems fine with that and even asks what time I’m working until because, in his words, he “likes dealing with the same person.” I tell him, thinking nothing of it.
Fast forward two hours after my shift ends, and my manager texts me asking to call her about a “price match issue.” I call, and what she tells me makes my blood boil. Apparently, this guy came in after I left and flat-out lied through his teeth. He told her I’d said there was no need to verify anything, that I’d already checked it, and that I’d agreed to give him a lower price than the one I quoted.
Basically, he tried to scam the store using my name as cover—over ten dollars. If my manager hadn’t double-checked, I could’ve been written up or worse. Some people really will risk their entire moral compass for the price of a sandwich.
2. Between A Rock And A Hard Place
Back in high school, I worked the service desk at a supermarket, which meant I saw every scam and half-baked scheme you could imagine. Store policy said that whenever someone returned a small appliance, we had to cut open the box to make sure everything was actually inside.
One afternoon, this guy came in to return what he claimed was a brand-new air conditioner. The box looked a little beat up, but nothing too suspicious—until I cut it open. Instead of an air conditioner, there was a giant rock sitting inside.
The second our eyes met, he knew the jig was up. He didn’t even try to argue—just bolted out of the store like his shoes were on fire. I guess that rock wasn’t the only thing he was trying to drop off that day.
3. Money Talks
A few years ago, I was working at a grocery store when this older woman came through my line with a single item—a pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups. She paid with a $100 bill, which already seemed a little odd. Before I could count her change back, she snatched the cash right out of my hand and walked off without a word.
Five minutes later, she marched back in claiming I’d shorted her eighty dollars. She made a big scene, insisting I’d messed up, clearly hoping I’d panic and hand over more money. Most of the evening cashiers were teenagers, myself included, so I guess she figured we’d be easy targets.
Not me. I called over my manager and asked him to count my drawer. Suddenly, she got “restless” and asked to step outside for a smoke while we did it—and, surprise, she never came back.
A few months later, she tried the same trick again, same candy, same $100 bill. But this time when she grabbed for the change, I held it out of reach and counted it back slowly, one bill at a time. She didn’t argue, didn’t make a scene, just turned around and walked out. Funny how fast scammers lose interest when you stop making it easy for them.
4. Gaming The System
Years ago, when I worked at GameStop, this sweet-looking grandma came in with her grandkids and said, “Pick out whatever you want from the used PS2 wall!” Back then, that wall took up nearly a third of the store. The kids went wild, piling up games like they’d hit the jackpot—at least twenty of them—plus a used console and a few extra controllers.
She paid for everything without blinking, smiling like she’d just won “Best Grandma of the Year.” As she was leaving, we followed store policy and reminded her that used items could be returned within seven days for any reason. She grinned and said, “Oh, I know. My grandkids are only staying with me for five days. I’m bringing it all back on day six—it’s cheaper than renting!”
And that was it. No shame, no hesitation—just a grandmother who’d figured out the ultimate loophole. We all just stood there, stunned, realizing we’d just witnessed the most wholesome gaming scam ever pulled.
Freepik, asier_relampagoest
5. The Nibbler
There was this woman who came into my restaurant like clockwork, always ordering the same massive breakfast—pancakes, eggs, bacon, the works. And every single time, about a third of the way through, she’d suddenly decide something was wrong with it. “It’s inedible,” she’d say, pushing the plate away and refusing to pay. We comped her meal every time.
After watching this routine play out a few times, I started wondering: how is it possible that she gets a bad breakfast every single visit, yet keeps coming back for more? Either our kitchen had it out for her, or something else was going on.
Eventually, I found out the truth from a regular customer who actually knew her. Turns out she’d had gastric bypass surgery and couldn’t eat much anymore. So she’d come in, eat until she was full—maybe a few bites—and then claim the food was bad so she wouldn’t have to pay. Because she barely touched her plate, we always believed her.
The next time she showed up, I refused to serve her. She completely lost it, yelling and making a scene. I asked her, “If our food’s so terrible, why do you keep coming back?” She glared at me and said, “Because I’m waiting to get a good meal.”
Right. A “good meal” that costs nothing and comes with free drama on the side.
6. I’m Not Lovin’ It
When I was seventeen, I worked at McDonald’s, running the second window on the drive-thru. One night, this woman ordered a couple of value meals and a Happy Meal. We finished the Happy Meal first, so I handed it out. She looked inside, smiled sweetly, and said, “I’m so sorry, but they put fries in here, and I wanted apple dippers.”
No problem, I thought. I apologized, took the bag back, and swapped the fries for apple dippers. My manager, who was standing nearby, gave me a weird look and said, “But the order says fries.” I told her, “I know, but she told me she wanted apple dippers.” That was the end of it—or so I thought.
About an hour later, the phone rings. My manager takes the call, hangs up, and walks over to me with this look on her face. “Remember that Happy Meal order you changed?” she said. “That woman just called to complain that she got apple dippers instead of fries. She’s demanding a couple of free value meals to make up for our ‘screw-up.’”
I was floored. “She looked me right in the eye and told me to switch them,” I said. My manager believed me, thank God, but I was furious. That woman had been all smiles and fake politeness to my face, then turned around and tried to get me in trouble for ten bucks’ worth of food.
That was the night I learned a hard truth about customer service: some people will look you dead in the eye, lie through their teeth, and do it with a smile.
7. Networking
I used to work at a university IT help desk, which meant dealing daily with students who thought the rules didn’t apply to them. One afternoon, this guy storms up to my desk, furious that I wouldn’t reconnect his account after he’d been banned for a month for blatant piracy. We’d gotten multiple DMCA complaints, so it wasn’t exactly a mystery why he’d been kicked off.
He demanded to speak to my boss, so I pointed him toward her office and went back to work. Five minutes later, he comes strutting out with this smug grin plastered on his face, like he’d just scored a major victory. My boss followed behind him, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face.
She walks up to me and says, “So, he tells me you ignored him to play a computer game, and then were rude and insulting.” He’s standing there looking all proud of himself, clearly expecting me to get chewed out or fired.
Without missing a beat, my boss turns to me and says, “Now, I know you’re one of our best employees, so I’m guessing he’s either lying, or he earned whatever he got. Which one is it?”
The color just drained from his face. I explained that he was angry because I refused to break policy and reconnect him to the network. She nodded, turned to him, and said, “Got it. I’ll make sure your account stays locked for the full month so you don’t bother anyone else.”
He left red-faced and sputtering, while my boss gave me a wink. That’s the day I learned that karma sometimes wears a staff badge and works two doors down.
8. Pet Games
Oh jeez. I work at a pet grooming salon, and one of our rules is simple: never hand over a dog until the customer has paid. It sounds harsh, but when some of these grooms cost over $100, it’s not a risk the store—or my commission—can afford.
So one afternoon, this woman comes back to pick up her freshly groomed dog. She says she’s already paid and flashes me a receipt. It’s a little wrinkled, but nothing suspicious. I glance at it, nod, and hand over the dog. Easy.
The next day, my manager calls me into the office looking… not thrilled. Turns out, the woman had shown me an old receipt from her previous grooming appointment. I hadn’t even noticed the date. She walked right out with her clean, fluffy dog—and a free grooming.
I felt like the world’s biggest idiot explaining how I’d been outsmarted by a crumpled piece of paper. Lesson learned: always check the date before releasing the dog—or next time, I might be the one getting clipped.
9. Billing Department
I work at a movie theater that’s attached to a mall, which means I see every kind of customer you can imagine. One night, this guy hands me a $100 bill to pay for tickets. I grab one of those counterfeit detector pens, mark the bill, and it passes. The ink turns the right color—maybe a little darker than usual, but I figure the pen’s just old and dried out.
Since my drawer doesn’t have enough change, I call my manager, the big GM who usually oversees other locations, to swap it out. He takes the bill, starts walking toward the back, then suddenly stops dead in his tracks. He holds the bill up to the light, squints, and says, “We can’t accept this—it’s a five-dollar bill.”
I just stand there, blank-faced, while my brain starts screaming internally. The customer looks genuinely confused and says he got it from a check-cashing place in the mall. My manager keeps calm and says, “Alright, we’ll need to call the authorities to get this sorted. You can wait here if you’d like.”
The guy immediately walks out the door and never comes back. A little while later, some official-looking guy in a suit shows up, checks the bill against a reference book, and confirms that someone had actually washed a five-dollar bill and reprinted it as a hundred. It tricked the pen because the paper itself was real money.
Thankfully, the theater didn’t lose any cash, and I didn’t get written up, but the experience burned a new rule into my brain: never trust the pen alone. Always check for the security strip and watermark. That night, I learned the hard way that fake hundreds can hide in plain sight—and that even crooks can get creative on a budget.
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10. Marked
When I was studying abroad in Germany, I worked at a Burger King in Hamburg. It was one of those chaotic lunch rushes where the line was out the door, orders were piling up, and the fryer never stopped hissing. In the middle of all that, this guy comes through my line, orders lunch, and pays with what I clearly remember was a 20-mark note.
About twenty minutes later, he storms back in and claims he gave me a 50-mark note instead, demanding his “missing” 30 marks in change. I tried to explain that he hadn’t, but I had no proof—no cameras, no marked bills, nothing. My manager didn’t even hesitate. “Give him the 30 marks,” he said.
So I did. The guy left smiling, and I knew I’d just been scammed. When we counted tills at the end of the shift, surprise, I was exactly 30 marks short. And because I was the one who handed it over, my manager docked it from my pay. Six hours of work—gone.
11. Jean Jeanie
I was working at Old Navy when we first got in the “Rockstar Skinnies”—those super-tight jeans that came in every blinding color you could imagine. One afternoon, a woman strutted up to my register holding a pair of bright electric-blue skinnies, the exact ones plastered all over the front displays.
I rang her up and said, “That’ll be $34.94,” and without missing a beat, she goes, “No, they’re on sale.” I flipped over the tag and nearly laughed out loud. Someone had slapped on a crooked clearance sticker that said $2.95.
I told her it must’ve been a mistake, since these were brand-new arrivals and not even close to being on clearance. If they were actually on sale, it would’ve shown up in the system. She didn’t want to hear it. She demanded a manager, who came over, took one look, and called her bluff right there.
The woman huffed, grabbed her bag, and stormed off, muttering about how “Old Navy is lame.” Honestly, we might’ve honored the sticker if it looked even remotely legit—but $3 jeans? Nice try. If you’re going to run a scam, at least pick a number that doesn’t sound like you raided the dollar bin.
Freepik, peoplecreations
12. Dinner To Go
I work at a fine dining restaurant that hosts an annual truffle dinner—a massive event that’s as decadent as it sounds. Thirteen courses, each featuring a different kind of truffle, complete with wine pairings and truffle-infused cocktails. It’s the kind of meal people brag about for years, and the tickets aren’t cheap. We’re talking over $200 per person, sometimes more, depending on the truffle market.
Most of the guests are loyal regulars or friends of the owners, so we usually let everyone pay at the end of the night. It’s a tradition built on trust—and for years, that system worked perfectly. Until this year.
Halfway through the evening, a couple got up for what they said was a smoke break. They were dressed the part—polished, confident, blending right in with the crowd of regulars. But after ten minutes passed, then twenty, then thirty, it hit us: they weren’t coming back.
We checked the reservation book, called the numbers they’d given, and both were fake. They’d eaten $400 worth of truffle-laden courses, drank the good wine, and ghosted into the night without paying a cent.
It was a dine-and-dash, but on a whole new level. Not a couple of teenagers skipping out on a burger joint—these two had planned it, dressed for it, and executed it like a heist. We were stunned, not because we couldn’t afford to cover it, but because we’d learned a harsh truth that night: even in fine dining, someone’s always trying to pull a fast one.
13. Phony Phone
Years ago, I sold a guy a brand-new phone while working for a wireless carrier. I spent a solid hour transferring all his contacts, setting up his apps, syncing his accounts—the whole deal. He left the store smiling, brand-new phone in hand, screen gleaming like glass should.
The next day, he storms back in, holding the same phone—but now the screen looks like it lost a fight with a hammer. He slams it on the counter and says, “This is how it looked when I left yesterday.”
The best part? He clearly didn’t remember I was the same rep who had spent an hour setting it up for him the day before. I just stared at him for a moment, probably longer than I should have, and said, “That’s interesting, because I distinctly remember you leaving with a phone that wasn’t shattered.”
He tried to bluff it out, but the look on his face said it all. Needless to say, that phone wasn’t replaced.
14. Playing Telephone
I work in customer service for a major cell phone company, and one of the oldest tricks in the book is the “I never got my phone” scam. It happens constantly. Most of the time, I can already guess how it’s going to play out before they even finish the sentence.
So this guy calls in one day insisting he never received the phone he ordered. I put on my best apologetic voice and say, “Oh gosh, Mr. Dawson, I’m so sorry to hear that. According to the tracking number, it was delivered to your address three days ago. Have you checked with a neighbor who might’ve picked it up for you?”
Without missing a beat, he says, “Nope, no one has it. It must’ve been stolen. I’m going to need a replacement.”
That’s when I can’t help smiling—because this is where it gets fun. I tell him, “That’s concerning, Mr. Dawson. Especially since the phone we shipped you is showing as active… on the same line you’re calling me from right now.”
There’s a pause—long enough to picture him staring at his phone in panic—before click. Call ended.
Every time one of these scammers hangs up, I can’t help but grin. If you’re going to lie, maybe don’t do it while literally using the stolen phone.
15. Fruit Folly
I used to be a shift leader at a little chocolate shop that served fondue—bananas, strawberries, marshmallows, the whole sugary lineup. One week, we got a bad shipment of bananas. They went from green to garbage in what felt like hours, so we had to toss them all. Every customer who ordered fondue got the same spiel: “You’ll get extra of everything else, but unfortunately, no bananas today.” Most people were totally fine with it.
Then she walked in.
This woman orders a fondue, nods politely through the “no banana” speech, and acts like she’s perfectly fine with it. Great. We bring the fondue out, and the moment it hits the table, she absolutely loses it. “Where are the bananas?” she shrieks, like I’d just served her a bowl of mud. Her poor son pipes up, “Mom, they said before that they didn’t have any,” and she shushes him like he’s about to ruin her big courtroom moment.
Something in me just snapped. Before I could stop myself, I said, “Ma’am, I did tell you we didn’t have any. But if you really want bananas that bad, there’s a whole batch of spoiled ones in the dumpster out back—you’re welcome to help yourself.”
My coworkers nearly collapsed laughing. She, however, did not see the humor. She stormed out and called our soft-as-butter manager, who gave her a free fondue—not because of what I said, but because, apparently, she was owed one for not getting bananas.
To this day, whenever someone gets fussy over fruit, I still think, “Lady, the dumpster’s that way.”
16. Ticket Taker Trouble
Years ago, I worked at a small, run-down movie theater in my hometown. It was my first job—nothing fancy, but easy enough and usually calm. Every now and then, you’d get an angry customer, but there was one guy who made it his full-time job to test my patience.
He was in his mid-fifties, showed up every single weekday for the first show, and without fail, would walk out about thirty to sixty minutes in to complain that “his movie was awful.” Every. Single. Time. I’d have to call my manager, Corey, who would come up, listen to the same ridiculous speech, and go through the refund process. It got to the point where I could practically recite his lines from memory.
Then, one glorious morning, he didn’t show. I thought maybe—just maybe—he’d finally moved on with his life. Around 1 p.m., the theater started getting busy, and I was juggling a long line at the box office when, like a bad sequel, he returned. Only this time, he wasn’t even holding one of our tickets. Nope—this man slides me a stub from an entirely different theater in town and says, “I want a refund.”
I just stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process what I was hearing. Finally, I said, “Sir, I can’t refund a ticket from another theater.” He immediately cut me off, raised his voice, and launched into a rant about being “a loyal customer for years.” The line behind him was growing, people were sighing, and this guy was acting like I’d personally directed the terrible movie he saw.
I called Corey, who walked in with that look that said, “Here we go again.” I went back to helping other customers while Corey dealt with the guy. Twenty minutes later, when the crowd thinned out, I looked over and saw they were still going at it. The man was demanding free admission “at least,” since he’d already “wasted money” at another theater.
Finally, Corey told him, as politely as possible, that he wasn’t getting a refund or free tickets and that we’d be perfectly fine if he never came back. The guy threw the other theater’s ticket at him, told him to screw off, and stormed out.
And that was the happiest walkout I’d ever witnessed in my movie theater career.
17. Getting Carded
When I was a teenager, I worked at a tiny mom-and-pop deli in our small town—the kind of place where the owners knew every regular by name and kept a running tab for folks who were short on cash until payday. I practically grew up behind that counter, so I recognized just about everyone who came through the door.
One Saturday afternoon, though, things got hectic. The lunch rush hit hard, and there was an actual line forming. Our setup wasn’t like a big supermarket with neat checkout lanes; it was more of a bodega vibe, register by the door, customers jostling to pay.
I was juggling six or seven people at once when a teenage girl I’d never seen before walked in. She was pretty, all smiles, and she moved like she’d done this a hundred times. Without saying much, she grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the rack, dropped it on the counter, and waited—cool as anything—while I rang everyone else up.
I started calling out totals to keep things moving: “Bill, $4.75. Chris, five bucks. And you—” I pointed at the cigarette girl—“I need to see some ID.”
She flashed a bright grin. “Oh, I don’t have it on me. But it’s just this one pack. Is it okay if I don’t show my ID this time?”
I didn’t even blink. “No, it’s not okay.” I scooped the pack off the counter like I was confiscating contraband. “Come back when you’ve got your ID.” She looked annoyed, but she left without arguing.
Three days later, the owner pulled me aside and said, “Thank you.” I had no idea what for. Then she told me: the girl had been part of a state sting. The licensing board sent a letter commending the store because I’d refused to sell to a minor. If I’d let her slide, the fine would’ve been thousands of dollars, and we might’ve lost our license to sell tobacco entirely.
The boss gave me a raise on the spot. Turns out, following the rules wasn’t just the right thing to do—it was the most profitable decision I ever made in that little deli.
18. Take A Seat
I was managing afternoon tea at one of the nicest hotels in town—the kind of place where the pastries look too perfect to eat and people whisper instead of talk. That afternoon, a table of three came in: two women, one of whom worked downstairs as a manicurist in the spa, and a little girl, maybe five, playing quietly on a Nintendo DS while they nibbled on petit fours and drank Earl Grey.
Everything was fine until the check arrived. Suddenly, the manicurist announced that the DS had been stolen while they stepped away to the restroom. I kept my voice calm, explained that none of my staff had seen it, and promised to double-check. Nothing turned up.
Thirty minutes later, the situation had escalated. The women were demanding that we comp their $30-per-person bill and replace the “stolen” DS. I was trying to keep things polite while they got louder and more dramatic. Meanwhile, the little girl looked increasingly uncomfortable, shifting in her chair, glancing back and forth between the adults like she wanted to disappear.
Then, right in the middle of her mother’s latest tirade, the kid blurts out, “Mom, you’re sitting on it.”
Everything froze. The woman stopped mid-sentence, turned bright red, and slowly stood up. Sure enough, there was the missing DS case, right on her chair. She’d been sitting on it the entire time—and she clearly knew it.
The room went silent for a beat. Then I just smiled and said, “Well, mystery solved.” It was one of the stupidest, most satisfying moments of my hospitality career.
19. Did You Turn It Off And On Again?
I work tech support for a cable company, the kind of job you take to get through school. The pay’s decent, the training’s straightforward, and most of the time it’s just walking people through unplugging and re-plugging their modems. Easy money—until someone calls just to be a pain.
One night around ten o’clock, this guy calls in furious that his internet went out the day before. I tell him customer service closed at eight and ask if his connection’s working now. He says yes, but he still wants to complain. I say that’s understandable, but since his service is up, he’ll need to call back in the morning if he wants to file a complaint.
That’s when he pulls this nonsense: “Oh, well ALL of my stuff is off then. How does that sound?” Then he laughs, like he’s outsmarted me. I stay calm and say, “Sir, you just told me everything’s working fine. Are you saying that just to keep me on the line?” He loses it, starts swearing, so I transfer him to a supervisor and move on with my night.
Later, I find out he told the supervisor I threatened him and refused to escalate the call. A total lie. But here’s the beauty of working in tech support: everything’s recorded. I told my manager to replay the call. They did, and the room burst out laughing at how ridiculous he sounded. I didn’t just get the last laugh; I got the officially verified one.
20. Which Watch
My dad’s a watchmaker—has been since he was eight years old. He learned from my grandfather, who was old-school in every way, and now, decades later, my dad’s probably the best watchmaker in California. He can take apart a Rolex blindfolded and have it ticking again before lunch.
In the old days, when you repaired a watch, you’d make a tiny mark on the inside of the case with your initials and the date. It wasn’t for bragging rights—it was for warranty purposes. If the watch broke down later, you could open it up and see exactly when you’d last serviced it.
One of my dad’s long-time customers was a jeweler—loaded, flashy, and always bragging about his wealth. He’d bring in a watch, pay for the service, then come back a few weeks later saying it wasn’t running right. My dad would open it up, and sure enough, the movement looked like it hadn’t been cleaned or oiled in years. But there inside the case was his own signature, dated just weeks before.
After this happened a few times, my dad started to get suspicious. He began writing down serial numbers for every watch he serviced, and that’s when he caught on: this guy was swapping them. Every time he paid for a service, he’d bring in a different watch from his collection—one that actually needed work—and then pocket the one my dad had just fixed.
The worst part? This guy was a millionaire. My dad was just a hardworking craftsman getting by, and this smug jerk was scamming him out of hours of labor just because he could.
Now I work with my dad, and things have changed. We log everything—serial numbers, dates, details—into a digital database. And when someone tries to pull that same stunt today, we call them out fast. You can tell the second they realize they’re caught. They usually go quiet, stammer something about a “misunderstanding,” and leave real quick.
Some people will cheat anyone they can—but not my dad, not anymore.
21. Spreading Yourself Thin
When my dad was about seventeen, he worked at a restaurant supply store that sold everything from industrial mixers to gallon-sized jars of food. One afternoon, a guy came in and bought a massive jar of mayonnaise. Nothing strange about that—until he came back later saying his boss wanted a different brand. He apologized, claiming he’d already opened it but hoped to exchange it anyway.
My dad figured, “No big deal,” and took the jar to toss before grabbing the right one. But the second he picked it up, he knew something was off. It was way too heavy for mayo. After months of lugging around those jars, he knew their exact weight by feel. So he popped the lid, grabbed a spoon, and dug in.
What he found made his jaw drop: beneath a few inches of mayonnaise was a jar packed full of sand. The guy had tried to scam them, thinking no one would ever notice.
This was 1964, long before “the customer is always right” became gospel. My dad looked the man dead in the eye and said, “Get out and don’t ever come back.” The guy turned to the owner for backup, but the owner just crossed his arms and said the same thing.
That was the last time anyone tried to pull a scam like that in their store.
22. Locked Up
I worked at a small bike shop back in high school. One day a guy came in holding about five U-locks and said he wanted to return them—no receipt. That just happened to be the exact number we usually kept in stock, and when I looked over, the entire rack was empty.
I told him I couldn’t do a return without proof of purchase. He said he’d get the receipt from his car, left the locks on the counter, and walked out. He never came back.
That’s when it hit me: he’d grabbed them right off our own display and tried to “return” them for cash. Honestly, it was such a bad scam that I almost felt embarrassed for him.
23. Dollars For Dumplings
I deliver Chinese food, and a few weeks ago I had this $62 order. I only had about $40 in change, but I figured it would be fine. When I got to the house, the woman handed me a $100 bill and asked if I had change. I said I thought I had just enough. While I was juggling the food bags with another person in the doorway—her brother, husband, whoever—she suddenly reached over and snatched the money right out of my hands, saying, “Oh, I’ll do that for you.”
I barely had time to react before she glanced at the bills and said, “Oh, this will do,” and shut the door. I stood there on the porch, stunned. Not only did she stiff me on the tip, but I actually ended up losing money on that run. It wasn’t worth making a scene over a couple of dollars, but man, it burned the whole drive back.
24. Box It Up
A guy once came in trying to return an old Xbox 360—the classic model—but he had jammed it into a brand-new Slim box. He claimed, with a straight face, that “it came that way.” I pointed out everything wrong with that story: the return window had long expired, the console looked like it had survived a war, and the serial number on the box didn’t even match the receipt. Clearly, it wasn’t the same system he’d bought.
He started yelling loud enough to shake the display stands, demanding a refund. Then one of the higher-ups from another department wandered over to see what the commotion was about. Without even checking the details, he shrugged, said “Just give it to him,” and handed the guy $300 in cash.
So yeah, the scammer walked out with free money, the store lost a console we didn’t even sell anymore, and I got a front-row seat to corporate stupidity. You win some, you lose some.
25. Macy’s Sale
I was working at Macy's and this lady would come in all the time and buy brand-new merchandise that we had just put out of the floor, but the ticket would be wrong and marked down to almost nothing. We honored the price the first time but she kept doing it over and over, even after we told her no. So one day I followed her—and what I saw was shocking.
She had actually brought a reticketing machine and was switching the tags of the brand-new merchandise with clearance tags. So she was taken out of the store.
26. Drive On
I work as an automotive service advisor, and one day a guy refused to pay after we finished his repairs. He said he needed to “step outside to make a call,” but instead he hopped in his car, started it up, and tried to bolt using a spare key. I ran out front and stood in his way, telling him he couldn’t leave without paying. That’s when he decided to try and run me over.
I sidestepped just in time and, running on pure adrenaline, slammed my fist backward into his windshield—shattering it clean through. I called the authorities, and they arrested him on the spot. When they brought him back, I told him I wouldn’t press charges if he paid up and never came back. He paid, I felt like a boss, and that was that—or so I thought.
Five months later, I got served with a subpoena. The guy was suing me for $4,500 and the shop for $7,000. He lost—spectacularly—and the judge dismissed it with prejudice, calling him out for being completely unhinged. Turns out, though, it’s technically illegal for me to stop a customer from leaving with their car if they haven’t paid. Oh, and for the record, I actually got invited to take it to Judge Mathis—but I passed. Some victories just don’t need syndication.
27. Regifted
About five years ago, I was working guest services at the mall when this guy in his mid-twenties walked in holding a $500 mall gift card. He said he wanted cash for it. I told him, politely but firmly, that there was no way I could do that. That’s when he launched into his story: “My fiancée got me this card for Christmas, and then a week later she dumped me. She won’t talk to me, so I can’t give it back—and having it just reminds me of her.”
Instant red flag. His tone, his timing—none of it felt right. I couldn’t give him cash anyway, so I asked, “Why don’t you just use the card?” He sighed dramatically and said, “If I use it, it’ll just make me think of her and everything I buy will remind me of her.” I followed up with, “So how would buying things with cash make it better?” That’s when he smiled. It wasn’t a sad smile—it was the kind you see on someone who just got caught bluffing.
“You’re lying,” I told him. He laughed nervously and said, “Okay, fine. My dad got it for me for Christmas. I just wanted cash instead.” Then he bolted, no goodbye, just gone.
A few seconds later, I realized he’d left the card sitting on the counter. Curiosity got the best of me, so I swiped it to check the balance. The card was completely empty. Not a dime left. Guess he figured a sob story might be easier than actually loading the card in the first place.
28. Apples To Apples
Back when I worked for Apple as an AppleCare senior advisor, I got this guy who swore his MacBook Pro had been crawling ever since he upgraded the OS. He’d already reinstalled the software, gone through all the usual steps, and even visited an Apple Authorized Service Provider who claimed they “found an issue” but couldn’t fix it. The problem? There were no notes in the system. So I told him to head to the nearest Apple Store for a second opinion. He mentioned he was flying back to India in a few days, so time was tight.
The next day he called back furious, claiming the Apple Store just reinstalled the OS and didn’t fix anything. I called the store myself—turns out they found nothing wrong, but reinstalled it just to be safe. Still, I wanted to help the guy out, especially since his warranty was about to expire, so I personally authorized a full replacement of his main board, hard drive, and RAM. I sent him back to the same store, and he said he’d even pushed his flight back to get it done.
Then, the next day, he called again—angrier than ever. He claimed the store tried to charge him despite my authorization. I spoke directly with the technician, who said they told him the repair was free but would take overnight. The guy stormed out the second he heard that. I explained how the process worked, but he flat-out refused to go back. After thirty exhausting minutes of arguing, I arranged for him to go to a different Apple Store that could supposedly do it the same day.
A few hours later, he called again. Same story: no fix. At that point, I was this close to approving a full computer replacement—but something didn’t add up. I called the second store, ready to chew them out, and they told me he’d never even shown up. His appointment was marked “unattended.” That’s when it clicked: this guy was trying to scam us.
I called both Apple Stores again—same story. I even checked his Facebook page, which was active but made no mention of any trip to India. I contacted the original service provider, and they’d never heard of him either. The guy had been playing the system perfectly, counting on me to lose patience and send him a new laptop.
I couldn’t outright call him a liar, so I sent him a polite email saying that a confirmed fault was required before we could authorize a replacement. Then I filled the case file with every single detail and stopped answering his calls. Two days later, I left Apple for good. From what I heard later, he never got that shiny new MacBook he was chasing.
29. Travel Perks
I used to work as a housekeeper at a mid-range hotel—not fancy, about £110 a night—but you’d think some of the guests were checking into the Ritz from the way they acted. We’d have people switch rooms half a dozen times during a three-night stay, complaining that it was “too hot,” “too cold,” “too small,” or that the “bed wasn’t soft enough.” You name it, someone had whined about it.
One week, we had this man check in with his little dog and stay in the annex building, which had the smallest and oldest rooms. I serviced his room as usual, making sure everything was clean and stocked. The next day, I spotted a small dog running loose in the main building. When I asked the receptionist about it, she told me it belonged to that same guest—and that he’d raised hell at the front desk because there were “no tea bags, no coffee, no spoons, no towels, no toiletries.”
Apparently, he’d pitched such a fit that management blamed me for “forgetting” to stock the room and then rewarded him with the biggest suite in the hotel, free of charge for an entire week.
Later that day, we figured out what had really happened. He hadn’t been deprived of anything—he’d simply stolen every last item from his own room. Tea, towels, toiletries, spoons—stuffed straight into his open suitcase. I was furious. He robbed the place blind, got a free upgrade for his trouble, and his dog still had the run of the hotel.
30. Free Ride
I work at one of those family amusement parks where everything runs on rechargeable cards—you swipe to ride. Guests can pay by the hour or per attraction, and as long as my scanner flashes green, they’re good to go. Sounds simple, right? Except some people think they’ve cracked the system.
Every week, we get at least one group who buys a single one-hour pass and tries to sneak five people onto the ride. They’ll pass the card through the bars, pretending to “hold it for a friend,” then shuffle it back to the next person in line like they’re running a black-market ticket ring. It’s almost impressive—until it’s not.
What they don’t realize is that our scanner is smarter than they are. It flashes bright red if a timed card is scanned twice within five minutes, which stops the scam cold. Then comes the fun part: explaining to fully grown adults that they can’t share one card among five people. Cue the sighs, shouting, and the occasional “I’m calling corporate!” meltdown.
I just stand there, smiling and holding the scanner, thinking, “All this over a three-minute go-kart ride.”
31. Price Match
One summer, this guy pulls into our car park and strolls up to the till with two patio kits, each clearly labeled £50. I ring him up and tell him the total is £100. He stares at me like I’ve just told him the Earth is flat and says, “No, I bought one yesterday at another branch for £50.” I reply, “Right, but today you’re buying two. So, £100.”
He starts arguing—loudly—accusing me of overcharging him. This goes on for ten excruciating minutes while I calmly repeat the same sentence: “Two kits. Fifty each. That’s one hundred.” He refuses to accept it, acting confused, outraged, insulted—like basic math is some kind of corporate scam.
That’s when it hit me: his big plan was to stall the line long enough that I’d cave and give him one for free just to move things along. What he didn’t realize was that this wasn’t some cramped corner shop—it was a massive DIY store with half a dozen other cashiers. By the time he looked around, the queue had vanished and nobody was even watching his little performance anymore.
The look on his face when he realized his “plan” had flopped was priceless. He finally paid up, grumbling under his breath, and never showed his face again.
32. Stick To Your Ribs
I used to work at Outback Steakhouse, and one night this guy comes in and orders the Prime Rib. Now, we’re required by policy to politely warn people that “Prime Rib” isn’t the same thing as ribs, because, well, not everyone reads menus carefully. Most people just nod and move on. But not this guy. He looks offended—like I’ve just called him illiterate—and snaps, “I know what I ordered. Bring me the best prime ribs you have.” Fine.
So the food runner brings out his perfectly cooked Prime Rib, and for a while everything seems fine. About fifteen minutes later, though, I hear him calling me over. He’s fuming. “This isn’t what I ordered,” he insists. “I wanted ribs!” I glance down at his plate and nearly laugh out loud—he’s already eaten three-quarters of the steak before deciding to stage his little performance.
He starts demanding a full rack of ribs “to make it right,” acting as though he’s been served dog food instead of a $30 cut of beef. I keep my cool, but inside I’m dying at the sheer audacity. The man really thought he could pull a free-meal scam after nearly licking the plate clean.
Let’s just say his “refined palate” didn’t impress anyone that night.
33. Taste Test
A woman came in with her baby strapped to her front and a stuffed toy in her hand. The kid happily stuck it straight in his mouth, and then she tried to hand it back to me like nothing happened. I stopped her: if you hand it to a child and it goes in his mouth, you have to buy it.
First she argued that our plush was just “there for kids to walk around with.” No. Then she said, “He’s just a baby,” as if that makes it okay to hand a saliva-soaked toy back to the sales floor. I told her that’s exactly why adults have to supervise: babies mouth things and those things shouldn’t be resold.
She went on about our “outrageous” policy and complained we had no signs posted. I said we don’t put up signs because, frankly, no signs because it’s common sense—you don’t expect stores to accept items that have been in a stranger’s mouth. She sniffed that she’d “never had this problem before.” I pointed out the obvious: other stores probably hadn’t watched her do it.
Long story short: I wouldn’t let her leave without paying. I wasn’t letting this woman go. Five dollars later she stomped off with the toy, and I inwardly rehearsed following her into the mall to taste-test every shoe she wanted to try on. After all, it’s “just a little saliva,” right?
34. Wired Up
Years ago, I worked at a small hardware store that kept getting hit by thieves stealing rolls of copper wire. One afternoon, a guy and his girlfriend walked up to my counter with one of those rolls, saying they wanted to return it. No receipt, of course. When I scanned it, the system only showed the price per foot, not the full roll, and I couldn’t figure out how to process it.
I called my manager over, and the second he saw them, he smelled the scam. He asked when they bought it, and the guy instantly said, “Two weeks ago.” My manager didn’t even blink. “That’s funny,” he said, “because the last time we sold an entire roll was over three months ago.”
The guy puffed up and snapped, “So you’re saying I took it?” My manager looked him straight in the eye and said, “Yes.” You could feel the air leave the room. The couple bolted for the door but left the roll behind.
As they were heading out, the guy turned and yelled, “I’m coming back with the authorities!” My manager didn’t miss a beat. “Good,” he said. “That way you can explain how you stole it in the first place.”
35. Free Pass
I used to work at a parking structure near Disneyland, the kind attached to a mall that was supposed to attract tourists but mostly drew late-night club hoppers. One evening, this flashy convertible rolls up to my booth with two loud guys up front and two girls in the back. The driver hands me his ticket, and I tell him it’s three dollars. He gives me a twenty. I open the register, hit the button to lift the gate, and start counting out his change.
Just as I’m about to hand him back seventeen dollars, he says he’s got exact change. Great, I think—no need to drain my drawer. I give him back the twenty. He takes it, grins at me, and yells, “Suckerrrrr!” before peeling out of the booth.
For a moment I just stood there, stunned, the gate still open and exhaust fumes filling my little box of misery. Then I sighed, pulled three dollars out of my own wallet, and dropped it into the till so my drawer wouldn’t come up short.
People already treat parking attendants like we’re invisible, but that one hit different. Getting hustled for three bucks shouldn’t ruin your night—but somehow, it did.
36. BOGO Froyo
I used to work at a frozen yogurt place where everything was charged by the ounce. Most people were fine, but every now and then someone would try to get clever. Some would “accidentally” lift the cup off the scale while I was weighing it. The sneakier ones would slide their purses or sleeves close, pretending to fidget while they quietly nudged the cup up to shave off a few ounces.
Thing is, after a while you get a sixth sense for it. A normal cup usually ran about four to six bucks, so when someone handed me a mountain of yogurt buried under peanut butter cups and gummy bears, and it somehow only rang up as two dollars, the scam was obvious.
I’d just stare at the number on the scale, then look them dead in the eye until they realized I knew. Nothing beats watching that awkward moment when they slowly lower the cup back down—like maybe if they move slow enough, I won’t notice gravity suddenly works again.
37. Can’t Compute
When I worked in computer repair, one of the oldest tricks in the book was customers bringing in a fried machine and pretending it broke in our shop. Usually, we caught it—burnt components have a certain smell—but one night, during a crazy evening rush, I slipped up.
A guy rolls in with his whole family, hands over his desktop, and says he wants a RAM upgrade. I’m juggling three other customers, so I skip the one crucial step: I forget to boot the computer first. Big mistake. I pop in the new memory, hit the power button, and… nothing. Turns out the processor was completely fried before he ever walked in.
When I told my managers what happened, they just sighed. They could have called him out in front of his family, but instead they took the high road, replaced the $100 processor out of goodwill, and didn’t dock my pay. I learned two things that night: always boot the machine first, and that some people will do anything to dodge responsibility.
Honestly, that job made me realize something: customer service will break your spirit faster than a dead motherboard.
38. Book Exchange
Our store carried this line of fancy books that sold for $25 apiece—definitely not cheap, but they moved well. Then, one Christmas, the publisher decided to get “creative.” Without telling us, they made a Costco-exclusive gift set: the same books shrink-wrapped together with a fake $130 “original price” printed on the box and a $30 Costco sticker slapped over it. The kicker? That $130 number wasn’t real. The set had never sold anywhere else, and even the math didn’t add up.
Suddenly, every con artist in town crawled out of the woodwork. They’d split the Costco set apart and try to return the books one by one to us for $25 each—turning a $30 purchase into a quick $100 profit at our expense.
At first it worked on a few unsuspecting clerks, but we eventually caught on. The Costco versions had a barely noticeable difference in the printing—just enough for me to spot. So I’d start asking “innocent” questions, watching their faces while they stumbled through fake stories. Some were pros, others were just unlucky folks with “helpful” mothers-in-law who’d accidentally gifted them a scam set.
By the end of the season, I could sniff out a Costco returner before they even opened their mouth.
39. The Italian Job
I used to work at a huge supermarket chain, the kind with stores everywhere, but my location sat right in the middle of a busy tourist district. For whatever reason, the area was crawling with older Italian locals—mostly sweet, but a few of them were absolute professionals at the refund scam.
There was one woman in particular who made it her personal mission to drive me insane. She came in every single day, always grinning like we were old friends, and every time it was the same routine. She’d buy something—bread, cereal, cigarettes, even fish—then come back the next day claiming it was “bad.” She’d eaten half of it, of course. When we refused the refund because, you know, half a chicken carcass doesn’t qualify for returns, she’d get furious, storm out, and then show up the next morning to start all over again.
And it wasn’t just her. Soon her friends joined in. One old man used to bring random items to the counter, ask the price, then bark “Too much, too much! Make it lower!” before cursing and walking off when I told him I couldn’t. Every day, a new argument.
Finally, I snapped. The original woman came in to buy cigarettes, handed me a $100 bill, and I gave her the proper change. Five minutes later, she marched back up claiming I still owed her fifty-five dollars. That was it. I kicked her out and banned her on the spot.
Of course, she complained to the manager, and I got written up for it. I lasted another month before I quit. To this day, I still think about her smug little smile—and I wish I’d banned her sooner.
40. Language Lesson
I work at a restaurant that serves chicken, turkey, and meatloaf—simple setup: you pick your meat, two sides, and cornbread. Easy enough. One day, a woman comes in with this super specific, fussy order. No problem. I turn around to tell the carver what I need, and since he’s Mexican and not super fluent in English, I speak to him in Spanish. It’s faster, smoother, and honestly, just makes everyone’s job easier.
We get her food ready, she pays, and goes on her way. No drama. But a couple of days later, my manager pulls me aside and says corporate got a complaint. Apparently, the woman said she was offended because I was “speaking another language while handling her food.”
I couldn’t believe it. I asked my manager what corporate did, and she said they comped the woman’s next meal. So this lady complained, got a free lunch out of me speaking Spanish, and probably felt real clever about it.
Here’s the thing: if you’ve got a problem with me using another language, just say it to my face. Don’t run to corporate like it’s a national crisis. Everyone I talked to afterward said the same thing—she was just trying to scam a free meal. And the worst part? It worked.
41. Brown Bananas
There was this old lady who came into the store every single week like clockwork. She’d buy a few pieces of fruit and some vegetables, smile sweetly, and walk out like the perfect customer. Then, a week later, she’d march back in, holding the same produce, ready to raise hell over “bad quality.”
Her usual complaint? “These bananas turned brown!” As if fruit aging normally was some kind of corporate crime. Every time, she’d put on this wounded act, shaking her head like she’d been personally betrayed by the produce aisle.
And the worst part? Our manager in the fruit and veg section actually gave her replacements—every time. Fresh bananas, shiny apples, crisp lettuce. It didn’t matter how ridiculous her excuse was. She knew exactly what she was doing, walking out smug with her free groceries while the rest of us just stared, wondering how long it would take before the store caught on to her little scam.
42. It’s In The Mail
I used to work at Papa John’s, and one afternoon this woman calls the store sounding all serious. She says she’s been “receiving mail with the wrong name on it” and wants us to “correct it immediately.” I tell her, as politely as I can, that we’re just a delivery store—we don’t handle the marketing mailers that go out.
That’s when she hits me with it: she’s “suffered a great amount of distress” because Papa John’s didn’t recognize her as a loyal customer. Apparently, seeing the wrong name on a coupon was just too much to bear, and she demanded a free pizza for her emotional grief.
I was speechless. My manager overheard the whole thing, sighed, and said, “Just give it to her.” So yeah—she got her pizza. I guess it was cheaper than therapy.
43. The Breakup
When I was waiting tables in college, a young couple came in for dinner. They ate, laughed, everything seemed normal—until the guy went outside for a smoke and never came back. Twenty minutes later, the girl was still sitting there, fidgeting and looking like she was about to cry.
I went over and asked if she was alright. She said she’d been trying to call him but he wasn’t answering, and she thought he’d left her there. Then she admitted she didn’t have any money to pay for the meal.
I felt awful. I told my manager I’d cover it myself, but he waved me off and said he’d comp the bill. When I told her, she got teary-eyed and even gave me a hug, thanking me for being so kind.
A few minutes later, as I walked out to seat another group on the patio, I spotted her climbing into the guy’s car—the same guy who’d supposedly ditched her. They both drove off, laughing. I just stood there stunned, realizing she’d scammed a free dinner with a fake sob story. And the best part? Technically, she hadn’t stolen a thing.
44. Reverse Psychology
I work in a bar, and one night a woman sat on a stool that had a loose screw sticking through the seat. It scratched her leg—not bleeding, but red and sore enough to make a scene. She immediately started raising hell, so we apologized all over ourselves, yanked the stool out of service, and sent over a free round of drinks for her and her friends. That seemed to smooth things over—for a while.
An hour later, they were back at the bar demanding more drinks, claiming the manager had told them they could “drink for free all night.” Total nonsense. Our manager would never comp a group of six people drinking for four or five hours straight. I told them no, and suddenly I’m getting threats of lawsuits over a scratch that didn’t even break skin.
So I got creative. I told them, “Alright, you can drink for half price tonight.” They lit up, thinking they’d won. What they didn’t realize was that their so-called “£30 round for £15” actually cost £15 to begin with. On top of that, I only poured them half measures the rest of the night. They left grinning, thinking they’d hustled me—when really, I’d just flipped their scam right back on them.
45. Paper Money
I used to work at a game store a little over ten years ago. One slow afternoon, a woman walked in dressed sharp—designer jacket, shiny purse, the whole look—and asked for two PlayStation Portables, two Xbox 360s, and a pile of games and accessories. For a quiet store like ours, that was a massive sale. I was already picturing my manager actually smiling for once.
Then she handed me her “credit card.” It wasn’t even plastic—it looked like something she’d printed on her home inkjet, cut out with scissors, and maybe laminated with Scotch tape. I told her it wouldn’t work, but she insisted, “Just scan it anyway.”
So I did. Of course, nothing happened. She frowned, pointed at the register, and said, “Then just type the numbers in.” I told her flat out, “Ma’am, I can’t do that.” She stared at me like I was the crazy one, huffed, and said she’d be back with cash.
I put all the consoles and games back on the shelf. Big surprise—she never came back.
46. Tools Of The Trade
This happened on September 12, 2001—literally the day after the attacks. I was working customer service for a power tool company when a man from Spartanburg, South Carolina called. He sounded completely serious as he said, “Yeah, my weed trimmer was in the Twin Towers yesterday, and it got destroyed when the planes hit.”
I was too stunned to even respond at first. Then he said he wanted us to replace it under warranty.
I asked him to repeat himself, thinking maybe I’d misheard, but no—this man genuinely believed that his weed trimmer, allegedly sitting in an office in New York City, should be replaced for free because of one of the worst tragedies in American history.
I just remember hanging up the phone thinking, “What kind of person even thinks like that?”
47. It’s Not Delivery
We’re a carryout-only pizza shop—no deliveries, no exceptions. One night, this woman calls and immediately starts in on me, furious that I won’t deliver to her house. I explain, as politely as possible, that we don’t deliver, period.
She keeps going, talking over me, and finally says, “You must be new here. I know the owner personally.” She repeats it twice like it’s supposed to unlock free pizza and a chauffeur.
So I just say, calm as ever, “Well, I’m the owner’s daughter, and we don’t deliver.”
There was a long pause, then a sharp click as she hung up. Can’t really top that one.
48. Charity Case
I used to work at Hot Topic, and we had these charity items—technically not “for sale,” since what you were really doing was making a donation and getting a free bracelet or keychain in return. The money went 100% to charity, but California’s laws made us ring them through the register for tax purposes. Bureaucracy at its finest.
One day, a woman walks in wanting to return ninety-six charity bracelets. She’d bought a hundred of them to resell at a music festival, thinking she’d make a killing because they said “music = life.” Turns out, her target audience already shopped at Hot Topic and knew they were charity items—so no one bought them.
I explained that technically she hadn’t bought anything and couldn’t return them. She refused to accept that. I gave her my manager’s number and thought that would be the end of it. It wasn’t. She called him nonstop until he finally shut her down, so she went over his head and started calling corporate. Every single day. For almost a month.
Eventually, it reached the CEO—who was known for not taking nonsense from anyone. She personally called the woman, got her address, and mailed her a check from her own account with a note that read something like, “I refuse to take money from a charity. You can have your refund, but if you cash this check, you are banned for life from every Hot Topic store.”
When I later visited the home office, a copy of that letter was pinned to an HR rep’s cubicle wall like a trophy.
Wikimedia Commons, Scouts Canada
49. Bad Credit
I work at a major electronics retail chain, and one afternoon two construction workers came in looking like they’d just stepped off a job site. One of them slaps his buddy on the arm, points at the most expensive laptop in the store, and says, “Hey you, get me two of these.” His friend immediately starts smacking him, whispering, “No, no, man, stop.” Right then, I knew something was off.
Still, I grabbed the laptops and brought them to the counter. One of the guys hands me a prepaid Visa card, and I could already tell it was sketchy. I ran it anyway—declined. Big surprise. So I called the card company and asked for the balance and account name. Turns out the card had $6.78 on it and belonged to some woman, definitely not the guy in front of me.
At that point, I decided to have some fun. I smiled and said, “Sorry, I just needed authorization. Looks like it’s been approved for $3,000. I just need to confirm that the balance is $4,325.46.” The guy nods confidently and says, “Oh yeah, that’s right.”
Then I add, “I’ll just need your name and phone number since the account info was lost. This is your card, right?” He grins, says, “Sure, yeah,” and hands me his driver’s license.
Meanwhile, my manager’s quietly calling the cops. I’m trying not to laugh as I stall them with fake small talk. When the officers finally show up, both guys immediately start panicking. One of them yells, “He’s lying! I don’t even have a gift card!” Then the other points at his buddy and shouts, “That’s his, not mine!”
We rolled back the security footage—clear as day, him handing me the fake card. The cops cuffed them right there while the guy started crying. Watching him sob as they led him out of the store was, honestly, the highlight of my week.
50. Seafood Surprise
On my first day as a server, I lived up to my clumsy reputation and dropped an entire stack of oyster plates. My table laughed it off, saying the oysters probably preferred their own shells anyway. We were still chuckling when a few tables over, a woman suddenly let out a dramatic shriek.
She was clutching her leg, insisting a “sharp piece” from the crash had flown across the restaurant and cut her. I looked over to see her pinching her shin like she was trying to “drain the blood,” while her husband had her leg propped up on a chair, coaching her through deep breaths like she’d just survived a shark attack.
My manager sprinted over with a peace offering—a bottle of wine—and began fussing over the wound. The woman wasn’t even in my section, but I went to check in anyway, trying to be polite. She looked at me, wide-eyed and trembling, and declared, “I feel like I’ve been shanked!”
We comped her meal, the wine, and about 20 minutes of apologies. Then, as she proudly displayed the “shard of glass” that had supposedly maimed her, my manager noticed something: the plates were ceramic.
Sources: Reddit,
