Worked at a fried chicken place. Lady calls and says that her daughter is going to order. The phone is then handed off to what sounds like a 5 year old, and orders 500 pieces of chicken.
I say "Ok," laughing.
The mom gets on and asks how long.
I tell her that her daughter just ordered $1000 dollars in food. Does she really want that?
The lady goes nuts screaming at me asking if I think her daughter is dumb.
Me: "So you want 500 pieces of chicken?"
Her: "My girl wants what she wants, make it and stop making fun of her!"
Me: "It is going to be at least an hour and 1000 dollars."
Her: [mutters something about not making fun of her and her daughter and why do I think I am better then them?] "Place the order!"
She shows up 10 minutes later looking for her chicken.
By then, I had already explained to the manager about the call and the manager said, "Don't even start the order. If she wants it, she's going to pay for it first."
She freaked out when the cashier told her it was over $1,000. The lady was refusing to tell us how much chicken she really wanted. And of course, in counterpoint to the mother screaming about how outrageous it was to charge $1,000 for "a little chicken," the little girl stood there screaming she wanted 500 pieces of chicken.
I'm kind of fascinated. Is mom so wrapped up in her own tirade that she hears nothing from the child who, by the way, has probably shattered every pane of glass within ten miles of ground zero? Or is she just incapable of processing the fact that she's wrong?
The manager finally stops trying to explain. Instead he leans forward a bit, puts an elbow on the counter and props his chin on his hand, watching them both. Not moving, barely blinking, not speaking or responding in any way as the two shrill their tirade.
Eventually silence descends as the mother runs out of steam and she realizes she's getting a completely blank stare.
In this silence, after letting it extend for an awkward amount of time, the manager said, in a quiet voice, "500 pieces of chicken cost $1,000. You can pay, wait an hour and get your order, or you can tell me how much chicken you ACTUALLY want to pay for and we'll put that order in. One or the other."
The woman starts to shriek again and the manager just puts up his hand in a "stop" gesture and the woman freezes, shaking with either shock or fury that a retail slave has dared to signal for her to stop. "I gave you your choices. One. Or. The. Other."
"I'm calling corporate! Never have I been treated so disrespectfully!" She flounces out.
If she did, we never heard about it. On bad days, I cheer myself up by imagining that corporate laughed hysterically and hung up on her. Whether that ever actually happened, it's still cathartic to imagine.