In 2005, I was in London working as a typesetter for a magazine from a small publisher. My client, who was a foot taller than me, got very upset everytime my phone rang. Not that the phone rang that many times a day, but anyway, one day he asked me (not very politely) not to answer any phone calls.
Obviously my phone rang at that very moment. It was my wife. The client started to yell at me. I thought that it was just too much and so I told him to fuck off – I was leaving.
Before I reached the door the client grabbed me by the t-shirt and tried to punch me in the face. I was lucky that he was really clumsy and managed to avoid the blow. After punching the air a couple of times, I think that he came back to his mind and offered me a couple hundred pounds extra so that the matter would be settled, but I refused. By that time people from neighboring offices had come out to see what was happening.
I left the office and went to a police station two blocks down the road. Unfortunately, I was leaving England in a month and couldn’t press serious charges against him. Moral of the story? Don’t tell your clients to fuck off.