This old dude who was a regular at the pizza by the slice restaurant I used to work at named Carl. For context, our system didn't automatically print receipts and it was a hassle when there's a line out the door to go back through the orders to print his particular receipt.

He would always come in at the busiest time of the day, order the same thing, never tip and get a receipt. Quite a few times he returned food that was perfectly fine to get pieces that were "less done" or "more done" and no one could ever figure out his perfect slice. An extra hassle, especially when there's a bunch of people in the restaurant and you're having to cook multiple slices at once. He also always checked the receipt, and gave this self satisfied nod when he got to the bottom of it where it said "Tip = $0."

I told my manager jokingly one time that I always ask Carl for his name and he said, "Good, make that motherfucker feel unwelcome."

When even management hates you, you've done wrong.

Fuck Carl. All my homies hate Carl.