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    Category: Food & Drink

    Stupid Customers, like the rest of us have to eat and drink. Sadly like the rest of us, they sometimes eat with the rest of us. For every waiter, server, drive-thru operator, coffee shop barista, and restaurant manager who has had to deal with fake allergies, vegetarians who don’t know the meaning of the word and idiots who have yet to understand the concept of clearly listed ingredients, we salute you!

    The Point Of Pointing Fingers

    | New Orleans, LA, USA | Food & Drink

    (I am working the lunch shift when the phone rings.)

    Me: “[Restaurant], this is Lisa speaking. How may I help you?”

    Customer: “Who is this?”

    Me: “This is Lisa, at [restaurant].”

    Customer: “You called me.”

    Me: “Well, ma’am, this is a business, so any number of people could have called you. Do you know anyone who works here?”

    Customer: “No, you called me!”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: *raising her voice* “YOU called ME!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know what to tell you. I did not dial you.”

    Customer: *yelling* “You called me!”

    Me: “Okay, have a nice day!” *click*

    Me, to coworker: “I am never answering the phone again.”

    Sandwich Privileges Now Revoked

    | Berkeley, CA, USA | Food & Drink

    (A customer has just ordered a sandwich and has moved over to stand near the pickup counter.)

    Me: “Medium mocha on the bar!”

    Customer: “Is this my sandwich?”

    Me: “Um, no. Large latte!”

    Customer: “Is this my sandwich?”

    Me: “Still no.”

    Wake Up And Smell The Snooty

    | New York, NY, USA | Food & Drink, Top

    (I wait tables in a very upscale restaurant in Manhattan. Most of our clientele makes more money in one year than I’ll ever see in my lifetime. This sometimes leads to customers forgetting that the world does not revolve around them. This particular Saturday night, I have a rather rude couple whom I cannot seem to please, and to top it off, I am not exactly feeling well. I have epilepsy, and as we are extremely busy, my boss has me on a light work load for the night and wants me to take it easy.)

    Customer: *shouting across the restaurant* “Waiter! Waiter! My wife and I are ready to order and we were sat five minutes ago already!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we’re a little busy tonight. What can I get for you two this evening?”

    Customer: “Just get us each a glass of your house wine. We’re not ready to order our entrees yet.”

    (As the next half-hour progresses, I feel worse and worse until I start to see auras. They’re usually my only warning that I’m about to have a seizure within the next 30 seconds. This happens as I’m carrying out the tray of food for the lovely couple. The last thing I remember is slamming the tray down on the nearest table. The next thing I am aware of is some angry shouting.)

    Customer: “I pay good money for my food and this little s*** drops it all over the place! I demand at least some compensation! He knows I have money. He just did it to garner sympathy for an extra tip!”

    Boss: “Sir, with all due respect, he has epilepsy and the paramedics are on their way. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t fake a seizure, urinate himself, and slice his face open on broken glass on purpose, all for an extra $20. I’m sorry that you’re upset, but we have to take care of the situation at hand first and then we can solve whatever problems remain.”

    Customer: “This is ridiculous! He has ruined my experience and traumatized my wife!”

    (Paramedics arrive, check me over, lift me onto a gurney. Meanwhile, I am absolutely mortified, confused, and crying.)

    Customer, to me: “You! I’ll remember your face! You’re a disgusting little money-grubbing runt, trying to garner sympathy from the poor customers in this restaurant! I’m never coming back here after this stunt you pulled. Unforgivable! ”

    (He then storms out of the restaurant, dragging his wife behind him, whilst shouting out numerous colorful expletives.)

    Wake Up And Smell The Fumes
    Wake Up And Sell The Coffee
    Wake Up And Sell The Coffee, Part 2

    Give Me Whatever Moos, Part 2

    , | Peterborough, ON, Canada | Food & Drink

    (I’m working the drive thru. We only have 2 kinds of chicken sandwiches: grilled and crispy.)

    Me: “How may I help you?”

    Customer: “I’d like an original chicken sandwich, please.”

    Me: “The grilled chicken or the crispy chicken?”

    Customer: “The original chicken sandwich.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, grilled or crispy chicken?”

    (The customer starts listing his toppings.)

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, I need to know if it’s grilled chicken or crispy chicken.”

    Customer: “No, the original chicken. The burger. We are talking about beef, right?”

    Give Me Whatever Moos

    Give Me Whatever Moos

    | TVM, Kerala, India | Food & Drink

    (Note: most of our customers on our home-delivery call number are tourists, foreigners, or upper-class residents who speak in English.)

    Me: “Hello, how can I help you today? Would you like to hear about our specials?”

    Customer: “Um, let me think. No?”

    Me: “That’s quite fine. Can I take your order?”

    Customer: “One stir-fried peas and three butter pattora please.”

    Me: “Okay, one order of stir-fried peas and three butter parrota. Can I have–”

    Customer: Not peas. It’s stir-fried peas.”

    Me: “That is one stir-fried peas, right?”

    Customer: “No! It’s PEAS! PEA-SEF!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m hearing stir-fried peas: P as in potato, E as in eclairs, A as in apple, and S as in suga–”

    Customer: “No! No! Moooo!”

    Me: “What’s that, ma’am? I didn’t hear you.”

    Customer: “MOO! MOOOO!”

    Me: “Oh! You mean beef. Sorry about that, ma’am. So, one order of stir-fried beef and three butter parrota. Are we good?”

    Customer: “Ha! yes! Stir-fried pea-sef! *gives address*

    Me: “Alrighty, we’ll have it delivered in 15-minutes. Have a nice day!”

    Customer: “MOO! I will!” *click*

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