They could, but for my (at the time) $3.25 an hour wage, I’d just as soon they leave the store instead of having them around for half an hour waiting for the cops. (The exception was the baby thing, but my boss wouldn’t let me call anyone. It was in fact his niece who tossed the tot.)
Naw, it wasn’t you, Robot Arm. It was the cashier trying to help the pissy customer who was the doughnut-target.
Yeah, I imagine they could be, if you were actually hurt by it. In my case, I was only about 18 or 19 and I just wanted the crazy ho to take her stupid OJ out of there and get away from me. I didn’t think of how violent it was to throw something that was frozen hard as a rock at someone…if she’d hit me, it could have really hurt.
AIUI, actually getting hurt is battery. Assault is the threat to hurt, I think. Chucking a can of concentrate at someone certainly constitutes a threat or intent to hurt.
IANAL, but it depends on where you live. In Colorado, someone who did either one would be charged with assault.
Carnival tarts. You’ll know them when you see them.
Could you please share the rest of this story? It’s too outrageous, I must know the rest!
I had someone threaten to stab me when I worked behind a bar because he thought I was gay and coming on to me (correct on the first bit, not on the second). Pretty stupid attitude for someone in a gay club…
Well, the stapler-thrower was banned from the library, but I could have pressed assault charges even though I wasn’t hit. (Shitty aim - who can’t hit somebody with a stapler at a five foot range? And it was not aimed to miss.)
Eh, it’s not much of a story; the headline’s the best part. Entitled biotch (aka, Niece of the Boss) came in to our arcade/children’s birthday haven and, for some odd reason, thought I would, in addition to the rest of my job, mind her sprog. I explained that I couldn’t do that, I was on the clock, I had job duties, etc., and she snarled, “Well, my *uncle *is your boss, and you have to do what I say!” and literally threw (underhand) her 3 monthsish baby towards me from about three feet away. The kid was airborne, I kid you not.
Caught the baby, called the boss, and told him to call the cops. He refused, and I buckled in the interest of $3.25 an hour. (He did take the baby, and his irate niece, out of my area.) What can I say, I was 15, and my maternal instincts hadn’t quite kicked in yet.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly a *customer *- she didn’t pay for anything she took around there. But IIRC, she was there because someone else in the family was having a party there (which I’m sure they didn’t pay for, either) and at that point, I didn’t know her from any other customer there.
Clearly hers hadn’t either.
She probably would have responded, “It’s an adjective when used to describe anything.”
If it were an adverb, it would be… er… yellowly, I suppose.
So you both need a good sound slapping. 
I’ve not been the victim of it, but I’ve seen it. It shocked the hell out of me.
I was in a donut store, and a guy came in - normal looking fellow, but there was something just a bit “off” about him. Like he was too excited or something.
He orders grape juice (the stuff that comes from a machine, pours into a plastic cup) from the pretty young clerk. Pays for it.
Then, without any build up or warning, he opens the cup and throws the contents in her face. For no reason at all (or at least none evident).
The guy runs out the door while everyone in the place sat shocked. By the time we (the other patrons) ran to the door, he was gone. The clerk just gave a sort of gasp, and started trembling - it was just so nonsensical. She was covered with grape juice, and all I could think was it was lucky the lunatic hadn’t used hot coffee.
Heh, a coworker couldn’t get an application to launch on her Linux box. I looked at some error files and poked around a bit and couldn’t fine any traditional problems but there were a couple of processes acting… strangely.
I’ve got her fixed now, after renaming the file she had in her home directory from “grep” to “badfile.grep.”
Bwhaaa, seriously, who the hell names a file “grep”?
Heh, hard to tell what she was thinking. Probably stood for something. GRoup Enrichment Program?
I had food and drinks thrown at me a couple of times by customers when I worked at McDonald’s. Both customers were in the vicinity of their cars, so they just drove away afterward, and I was far too shocked to do anything like get a license number.
Looong time ago I was working in a retail electronics store. Some guy apparently wasn’t having any success getting the customer service gal to replace his dead walkman. He winds up like a pitcher and fastball throws the thing into the cement block wall behind the gal exploding it into a hundred pieces and storms out. I just remember the wide eyed stunned look of that poor girl.
I’m betting she redirected the stdout of an application to grep, instead of piping:
/home/moron: this_produces_some_output > grep “foo”
instead of:
/home/moron: this_produces_some_output | grep “foo”
When I worked at Arby’s a customer threw a Beef n Cheddar at the manager. I was taking orders and the manager was making them. A guy ordered a Beef n Cheddar with extra cheddar. I rang it up, charging fifty cents for the extra cheddar. I watched the manager put three squirts of cheddar (instead of the regular one squirt) on the sandwich.
After taking a bite the guy comes back and says to me “I could shit more cheddar than this.”
I turn to the manager and say “Tom, this guy says he can shit more cheddar than what you put on his sandwich.” The manager says “Then why did he pay an extra fifty cents for me to put on the extra cheddar?” The customer then hurled the sandwich at him; the manager ducked out of the way and the sandwich hit the refrigerator with a huge explosion of cheddar.
We regularly get calls for a similarly-named cable company, but because of our phone tree, most people are dissuaded before reaching me. Only the real gems make it through. To make up a fictitious example, let’s say they want Comcast, but they actually are calling Comblank. This happened this week:
Me: “Good morning, this is Comblank.”
Him: “Comcast?”
Me: "You have the wrong number. This is Comblank. "
Him: “Comcast?”
Me: “You have the wrong number. We’re a software company.”
Him: “I didn’t get my cable bill…”
Me: ???
Last weekend, we got a nice voice mail from a very befuddled old lady (this is her real name, too): “This is Ms. Smith! I live in [nearby city]! None of my channels work. Please fix it. Bye!”