Featured Story:
  • Always Time For A Rhyme
    (2,245 thumbs up)
  • 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!

    Maybe He Was Looking For A Raspberry Pi

    | ME, USA | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Technology, Theme Of The Month

    (I own my own little computer repair shop, and lease it in a building next door to a restaurant. Though it is rare, I do sometimes get people who come into my shop by mistake looking for the restaurant because it offers to order out its food, and often this problem is resolved by me giving them directions to next door. My shop is very much so obviously a computer repair shop with only a desk to drop of your computer and a few displays with replacement parts. I am behind the drop off desk checking which order to work on next, when a customer comes in.)

    Me: “Oh, hi there. Here to pick up an order?”

    Customer: “Yup, I had a order for Ted.”

    Me: *I look up my database and find no orders for Ted.* “Umm, is it perhaps under any other name, or last name?”

    Customer: “No, I definitely put it under Ted.”

    Me: “Hmm, well what did you get done on your system? Maybe I can find it that way?”

    Customer: “Oh I ordered a large pepperoni, well done, with some hot wings.”

    Me: “You mean, like the food?”

    Customer: “…duh! You work in a restaurant. What do you think is here?”

    Me: “No, as you can see…” *I point around my shop* “I run a small computer repair shop.”

    Customer: “Don’t give me that bull-s***! I’m the husband of the owner and if you don’t get me my order I’ll have you fired!”

    (I am amused by this, because since we’ve been neighbors for a few years I know for sure the owner of the restaurant is indeed a woman, but is also a same sex couple with her partner.)

    Me: “Really now? I heard she and her husband broke up.”

    Customer: “No, we didn’t. We’re a loving man and wife. Now get me my d*** food, now!”

    Me: “Sorry. I just can’t do that. It goes against my policies.”

    Customer: “I want to speak to your manager, now!”

    (I call the restaurant and ask if the owner could come over real quick. She does.)

    Owner: “What seems to be—” *comes in and stops almost immediately. at the sight of the customer.*

    Customer: “You’re not the manager of [Restaurant]. You’re just the stupid c*** that thinks you’re clever. I wanna speak to the owner, now!

    Owner: “For the last time, you stupid dolt, this is not [Other Restaurant]. Stop coming to my store and yelling at my employees and customers!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you’ll have to leave now.”

    Customer: “Screw this s***! You’re all stupid f***s! You can all go to h***! I’ll never eat at [Other Restaurant] again! I’ll have your jobs, too!”

    (Both Owner and I were left dumbfounded by the stupidity of this customer. Lucky for me, though, I got a free sandwich for having to deal with the stupid dolt!)

    Can’t Read The Minds Of The Mindless

    | Rockwall, TX, USA | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

    (I work at a steakhouse where we think and act guest first. There are never customers only guests.)

    Guest: *talking on phone*

    Guest’s Wife: “He’ll take a sweet tea.” *rattles off the rest of the drink order*

    Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

    Guest: “Why didn’t you ask me what I wanted to drink?”

    Me: “I didn’t want to interrupt your phone call, sir. Can I go ahead and get your order for you?”

    Guest: *looks at me strangely for a few moments*

    Guest’s Wife: “Did you get all that, sweetheart?”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, you didn’t actually say anything. What can I get you?”

    Guest: “Well, you should know. I was thinking it very loudly.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, could you please repeat what you would like to eat?”

    (The guest tells me and as I walk away loudly says to his wife:)

    Guest: “This is the worst customer service I’ve ever had! What kind of waitress can’t just tell what I’m thinking?!”

    Date Updated

    | Reading, England, UK | Awesome Workers, Food & Drink, Health & Body

    (I get home from work to find my wife (who gets home before me) has unpacked the shopping which has been delivered.)

    Me: “What do you want for tea?”

    Wife: “We were going to have macaroni but we’ll have to have the chicken biryani instead because it goes out of date today. There were six things which go out today, which is outrageous.”

    Me: “I thought they were supposed to inform you when they gave you things with today’s use-by date?”

    Wife: “So did I. So I rang them up to complain. Such a nice lady, she apologised and gave us a refund on each of these articles.”

    Me: “Nice of her.” *goes to fridge* “What, this chicken Biryani? Doesn’t go out of date until Saturday.”

    (Today is Thursday.)

    Wife: “What! But it distinctly says: use by the 12th.”

    Me: “Yes, and today’s the 10th.”

    Wife: “Oops.”

    (She rang the supermarket back and was really apologetic about it. The woman at the other end was so happy to receive an apologetic phone call she let us keep the refund.)

    Don’t Hand It To Racism

    | Chicago, IL, USA | Bigotry, Bizarre, Food & Drink

    (I used to work at a cookie shop at the mall. At this point the customer’s cookie is wrapped and put on the counter in front of me so I can handle her money.)

    Customer: “Where is my cookie?”

    Me: *points* “It’s right there.”

    Customer: “Well, why didn’t you hand it to me?”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

    (I pick up the cookie and hand it to her.)

    Customer: “What, do you not touch black people or nothing?!”

    (I have no idea how to react to this as she stomps off.)

    Go Easy On The Brain

    | AZ, USA | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Funny Names

    (I am delivering to a customer who placed their order online. When I get to the door I begin reading off the ticket to make sure everything is correct and accounted for, as is standard procedure, when the customer interrupts me.)

    Customer: “And what kind of cheese did you put on it?”

    Me: “I believe we use mozzarella and parmesan.”

    Customer: “NO! That is NOT what I ordered! You were supposed to make it with Ezon cheese!” *pronouncing ‘ezon’ with a pretentious French accent*

    Me: “Um… Sorry, but I’ve never heard of this cheese, and as far as I know we don’t use it.”

    Customer: *in a condescending tone* “Well, of course you haven’t heard of it. Maybe if you weren’t so ignorant you’d have a real job instead of delivering pizzas. And apparently even that’s too hard for you because you don’t even know what kind of cheese you use. You’ll probably end up making a career out of getting pregnant for welfare checks.”

    Me: “Actually sir, I’m just doing this for extra cash while I’m in University. And since I also do inventory and prep work, I’m certain we don’t carry this type of cheese.”

    Customer: “Well, I clicked the button for it on your website! That’s what I asked for and that’s what I was supposed to get!”

    (Snatching the receipt out of my hands, then shoving it right up in my face.)

    Customer: “GOD, it’s right there on the receipt! SEE?! Eeeeee-zonnn cheeeeeese!”

    Me: *suddenly understanding and laughing* “No.”

    Customer: “No?! What do you mean NO?!”

    Me: “You clicked the button for ‘easy on the cheese.’”

    (The customer goes silent and looks at the receipt again, where it says ‘EZon cheese.’ Then without a word he hurriedly tosses some money at me, rips the pizza bag out of my hands and slams the door in my face. I pick up the money off the ground and quickly count it to find it is short. I ring the doorbell a few times before he throws it open, looking livid.)

    Customer: “NOW what do you want?!”

    Me: *holding up the wadded bills* “I can count properly too, and you still owe $2.37. I’m also going to need the bag back.”

    (The customer makes a very dramatic show of stomping his feet as he goes back to the kitchen, and shoves three more dollar bills at me. As I am turning to leave, he explodes again.)

    Customer: “What the h*** are you doing?!”

    Me: “Leaving.”

    Customer: “What about my change?! You think you’re getting a tip after what you put me through?! You still owe me fifty-seven cents!”

    Me: “No, a dollar minus thirty-seven is sixty-three. And we don’t carry anything smaller than a dollar bill. Have a nice day.”

    Customer: “I am NEVER giving you people my business EVER AGAIN! You can kiss my money goodbye!!!”

    Me: “Don’t worry, sir; you were going to be placed on the no-delivery list anyway.”

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