Missed four physiotherapy appointments in a row, no notice, each slot held open just in case, before finally ringing in high dudgeon to complain the clinic "never has any availability" when he tried to book urgently. The availability was there. It was, specifically, the four slots he'd already burned.
Asked, gently, to wear a mask while visibly unwell in a shared waiting room — a request that somehow transformed into a shouted accusation of "discrimination," aimed at reception staff who had precisely zero say in public health guidance and were simply trying to keep other patients from catching whatever he had.
Claimed an injury from elsewhere had actually happened during a treatment session, and pursued both a complaint and a refund with real conviction. Unfortunately for the narrative, the session notes and timeline showed the injury predated the appointment by several days — the paperwork, annoyingly, remembers everything.
Sat through a full course of private treatment, said at the very last session how pleased he was with the results, shook hands on the way out — then disputed the entire lot with the bank two months later. Satisfaction, it turns out, has a shelf life.
A kitchen delay during a heaving Saturday service earned a young server a stream of abuse loud enough that neighbouring tables asked to move. We comped the meal to try and calm things down. The shouting continued anyway, on principle apparently, since the grievance had by then outlived its own cause.
A table of six ate, drank, and had by all accounts a lovely evening, then quietly dispersed through separate exits at closing without troubling themselves with the bill. A logistically impressive disappearing act, discovered only when the till didn't add up.
Cleared the plate every single time — not a scrap left, genuine enthusiasm at the table — then requested a discount or a freebie on the way out, citing a fresh, minor, entirely new complaint on each visit. We've started wondering if the complaint is the dessert course.
Arrived with his own raw meat and asked the kitchen to cook it "his way," and would not accept that this isn't how food safety, allergen tracking, or basic hygiene law works, no matter how many times or how many ways it was explained. Became confrontational when the kitchen declined to become an accessory to his home butchery project.
Booked a 90-minute table slot on a fully booked night, then settled in for two and a half hours regardless, ignoring several increasingly pointed reminders, and held up three bookings behind him in the process — before complaining about the "poor service" on the way out, seemingly unaware he was the poor service.
Booked multiple free consultations, took meticulous notes throughout each one, thanked us warmly every time — then went off and did the entire job herself using our advice as the instruction manual. Consultation fee: nothing. Irony: priceless.
Commissioned a bespoke piece, approved the final design in writing with genuine enthusiasm, took delivery, admired it presumably, and then simply never paid the agreed balance — through weeks of polite, increasingly hopeful follow-up.
Claimed the custom item arrived faulty and demanded a full refund while quietly holding onto it, and submitted "evidence" photos that were, on close inspection, of an entirely different product. Bold strategy. Didn't work.
Left a hostile public review after being told, politely, that a particular custom request simply wasn't realistic. When the review was answered calmly and professionally, the response was a string of increasingly aggressive messages — proving, if nothing else, that "the customer is always right" has its limits.
Signed off the scope document, commissioned the work, received it, used it — and months later disputed the invoice on the grounds it "wasn't what was agreed." What was agreed was, conveniently for us, in writing, dated, and signed by the same person now disagreeing with it.
Submitted paperwork with several key sections missing, expected same-day turnaround regardless, and left a negative review when the (entirely predictable) delay materialised — blaming the business for the gap he'd personally left in his own submission.
A weekend's worth of increasingly furious voicemails demanding an urgent response to a distinctly non-urgent query, despite office hours being stated clearly on every page of the website. Followed up on Monday with a complaint that the query had been "ignored" — over the weekend, when the office was, as advertised, closed.
A steady drip of "just one more quick fix" requests, each one a bit further outside the agreed scope than the last, followed by genuine indignation whenever it was gently pointed out that further changes would, in fact, cost money — as changes to finished work generally do.
Handed back the keys after a tenancy leaving burns on the worktops, holes in the walls, and a door that no longer, strictly speaking, functioned as a door — then disputed every single deposit deduction with a straight face, despite a check-in and check-out inventory that documented the "before" in loving, undamaged detail.
Three months of rent arrears, several declined attempts at a reasonable payment plan, and a steady stream of financial hardship claims — running in parallel, oddly, with a very active social media presence full of things that weren't rent.
Turned up at the office, unannounced, more than once, to raise his voice at reception over a maintenance scheduling issue that had already been resolved by email — the previous day, in writing, which he had presumably read, since he referenced it while shouting about it.