Bookstore Slave with a "bitchy homeless person" story from when I worked with Hoarders. Now the homeless part I have no problem with. I don't judge. Honestly if not for my parents, I'd be homeless right friggin now.
We used to have chairs in our store, where customers could sit and partake of the wonders of the written word for a while (yay alliteration!). This homeless person would come in and sit in a chair allll day reading books. This too was worth no more than a minor eye roll, since of course she never bought anything but it wasn't worth kicking up a fuss.
Trouble started when she decided to claim it as her territory. If someone else was in "her" chair she would harass and harangue the customer until they moved and gave her "her chair" back. If the customer told her to go sit somewhere else, she would get louder and shriller until the customers got sick of it and moved themselves. "Her" chair was planted in the computer books section of the store, kinda tucked away from traffic. But it was immediately "Get the fuck away from me!" whenever coworkers came to shelve in the section.
Manager: We don't mind you sitting there all day, but if you're going to act rude to customers, employees and managers then you have to leave.
Bitchy Homeles Person (BHP): Rawr, grr, snarl!
Manager: I will NOT put up with that attitude! This is a retail store, which means you can't "claim territory" here. If you don't like it, again, you can leave.
BHP: Grumble, mutter, sulk.
Then finally the store closed one evening after she built this lovely little reputation for herself. A manager sent me to the women's bathroom to hustle anyone hiding in there out, warning me "THAT one" had slunk in there twenty minutes ago and hadn't been seen leaving, despite our closing announcements at the 30, 15, and 5 minute warnings AND the "we're closed" announcements.
"Hustle her out, and stand in the doorway until she leaves, because we've stuck our head in there twice and she hasn't left." I was told. He calls me back and murmurs quietly "If she gives you attitude, give it back. She's been hell on all of us today."
I have been given permission! MWAHAHAHAHAHA! Ooohhh the urge to blaze in there was very strong, but I bit my tongue and started off nice. I was, however, more than ready to unleash my inner Slave Rage at the drop of a hat. So I swing open the door and find Bitchy Homeless standing at the sink. She's doing little grooming things, generally designed to stall for time and make retail slaves give up waiting and walk away, to hopefully forget about her presence.
Me: Ma'am, the store closed five minutes ago.
Bitchy: I HEARD THE ANNOUNCEMENTS! *she starts washing her hands slowly and thoroughly.*
I stand patiently at the door and wait.
Bitchy: I SAID I heard the announcements. You don't need to stand in the doorway waiting. *still washing hands*

Me: You're the last customer in the store. I need to make sure you leave so we can go home.
Bitchy: I SAID you don't need to stand in the door waiting! *still washing hands*
Me: *sick and tired her her already* Yes I do. We're closed.
Bitchy: I'm GOING to leave! *still washing hands*
Me: *I fold my arms and stare her down* Get. The fuck. Out.
Bitch snarls and snaps and whines and moans as she slowly grabs the paper towels, dries her hands off, and shuffles toward the door with me in slow pursuit like the "sheep herding, no future, lowlife bitch" that she says I am and all but biting her ankles to drive her onward before we finally get her out the door.
Manager: Don't bother coming back here, you're banned for verbally abusing my employees.
He then slams it closed behind her, locking it. The cheers from various employees could be heard from one end of the store to the other. May all your customers be nice,
--Bookstore Slave