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    A Labor-Intensive Industry

    | IN, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink, Health & Body

    (I am very obviously nine-months pregnant and begin having contractions in my car as I show up for an afternoon shift as a delivery driver. I calmly waddle inside to let my manager know what’s going on and wait for my ride to the hospital. When my manager sees me coming towards the building clutching my stomach and grimacing, he figures it out and runs back into the office. As I get inside and approach the service counter, another contraction hits and I double over leaning on the counter huffing and puffing, trying not to cry out in pain. A customer has walked in directly behind me.)

    Customer: “What terrible service! You didn’t even bother to hold the door for me!”

    Me: Uh… sorry?”

    Customer: “D*** right, you are! Now quit being lazy and get back there and take my order!”

    Me: “I’m sorry. I can’t do that. I’m not even clocked in. And besides—”

    Customer:Maybe if you weren’t OBESE AND LAZY you could have made it in here sooner and clocked in already. Now I DEMAND service!”

    Me: “I’m sorry for the delay, ma’am. But I do have to ask you to quit speaking to me like that. I’m not obese or lazy—”

    Customer: “Of course you are! Look at you! You’re huge. And you got winded just walking in from your car.”

    (My manager comes out of the office and walks up to the counter, having heard this whole exchange.)

    Manager: “I’m so sorry about the wait. I am the manager. I was busy calling someone to cover her shift because she’s IN LABOR and must go to the hospital. [My Name], go sit in the office and call your doctor and your ride.”

    (As I walk around the counter, my water breaks leaving a small wet spot on the floor.)

    Customer: *shrieks* “That’s unsanitary! Aren’t you going to make her clean it up?! That’s disgusting. I REFUSE to pay for any food prepared in your contaminated kitchen!”

    Manager: “Okay. Good-bye. Have a nice day!” *smiles*

    Customer: “WHERE’S MY FOOD?!”

    Manager: “You just said you didn’t want food from our ‘contaminated’ kitchen…”

    Customer: “But… I… FINE! You better believe I’m calling your corporate office and filing a formal complaint!” *storms out, knocking over large promotional signs on her way*

    (I made it to the hospital with plenty of time to spare. Just under 12 hours later, my son was born. After 6 weeks of maternity leave, I went back to delivering. Many of my regulars remembered me and wanted updates and pictures of the baby. As far as we know, the customer never actually did call corporate.)