(Keep in mind, this is a kosher deli.)
Customer: “Can I get a ham sandwich, please?”
Me: “Well, sir, we don’t serve ham.”
Customer: “No ham? What do you have then?”
Me: “Well, we have turkey, roast beef, corned beef, and pastrami…”
Customer: “But no ham?”
Me: “No, sir, no ham.”
Customer: “What? Do you have a thing against ham or something?”
Me: “Actually…yes, we do.”
Me: “Good morning, how can I help you?”
Woman: “Yeah, a small coffee with 2 splendas and extra milk.”
Me: “Okay, that will be $1.49.”
(She pays and I give her the change. I proceed to make the drink. I pressed the “Medium” button for milk and then gave an extra shot. When I gave it to her, she took a sip and made a face as if she had just taken a sip of liquefied dog s**t.)
Me: “What seems to be the problem?”
Woman: “I asked for extra milk! This is too strong.”
Me: “Well, I’ll put some more in for you. No problem.”
Woman, muttering under her breath: “Idiot kid…”
(I put another “Medium” shot in. This is two mediums and one extra shot for a total of seven milks.)
(She takes another sip, with the same face.)
Woman: “What part of extra milk do you not understand?”
Me: “I understand what extra milk means. I put in about four times the regular amount of milk.”
Woman: “Well, put more!”
(I put in more. I put a “Large” shot of milk (four more). This brings our total to 11 milks, therefore being classified as milk with a little coffee.)
Me: “Here.”
(She takes another sip, and yes. Again, she makes that freaking face.)
Woman: “Look. Extra milk means you put in the regular amount, and then you put in MORE.”
Me: “I know that! That is a SMALL coffee with 11 MILKS!”
Woman: “PUT IN MORE!”
(I put in more another “Medium” shot (three more)).
Me: “Here. The coffee is almost white now.”
(She drinks it again and SPITS IT ALL OVER THE COUNTER.)
Me: “Lady, what’s your problem?”
Woman: “This coffee is cold! I ordered a hot coffee, not a cold coffee! Can you comprehend that?”
Me: “F**k this. Who’s next?”
(My shift leader was laughing in the corner the whole time. She remade this lady’s drink with one large shot of milk and gave it to her. She sipped it…”Ah, now that’s better!”)
(Everyone in line had a pretty good laugh about it.)
(Some customers at our restaurant try to get a free meal by placing some hair in their food and then blaming the chef and refusing to pay for the meal.)
Customer: “Waiter!”
Me: “How can I help you, sir?”
Customer: “There’s a hair in my food.”
Me: “That isn’t possible, unless it was your hair.”
Customer: “It isn’t!”
Me: “Who else’s hair could it be?”
Customer: “Your chef’s.”
(I walk into the kitchen and return to the table with our chef.)
Me: “Take off your chef’s hat.”
(Chef takes off his hat, he is revealed to be bald.)
Chef, to the customer: “You were saying something about my hair being in your food?”
(December 24th, last day for Christmas shopping.)
Customer: “Do you have a Nintendo Wii?”
Me: “No sir, unfortunately we are all sold out.”
Customer: “Why?”
Me: “It’s just pretty much the top holiday item, sir, and we have been selling out of the Wiis non-stop since last November.”
Customer: “When do you get them in?”
Me: “I don’t know. Not until after February, probably.”
Customer: “D**n it! I have kids you know! Show some sympathy!”
Me: “So do probably 70 of the 100 people in line behind you, sir. Now is there anything else I can help you with?”
Customer: “What if I slip you a $20?”
Me: “What about, no.”
Customer thinking I’m stupid: “Well, sell me the box you have right there up on the corner of your shelf, you liar!”
Me: “I can’t sell it to you, but I guess I could give it to you for free if it makes you feel better. There’s nothing in there by the way…”
(Customer apparently completely ignores that last line.)
Customer: “HELL YEAH I GOT MYSELF A WII! HAHAHAHAHA MERRY CHRISTMAS SUCKERS!”
(Crowd stands with death glares fixated on me and the guy.)
Me: *hands him the box* “Merry Christmas…next person, please.”
Customer: “WHAT THE F***! GOD D**N S**T! There’s nothing in this d**n box!”
Customer behind him: “That’s because he said that was just a display box. He gave it to you just so you could be happy and you accepted it, moron!”
(Crowd of customers returns to holiday mode.)
Me: “We’re going to take you to the hospital.”
Patient: “NO! I don’t wanna go there, they’ll arrest me!”
State Trooper: “Did you do anything wrong?”
Patient: “NO! I don’t wanna go to the hospital!”
Me: “Well you’re pretty banged up. We have to take you for your own good.”
Patient: “NO! The Chinese Lady is gonna stick an AIDS needle in my a**!”
Me: “There are no Chinese ladies at this hospital.”
Patient: “I’m scared! Last time I went to the hospital the Chinese lady stuck an AIDS needle in my a** and I bled out of my a**!”
Me: “Don’t worry, we won’t let any Chinese ladies near you.”
(We get to the hospital.)
Me, to my partner: “Oh my God, his nurse is Chinese.”
Patient, as we walk away: “STAY AWAY!”
Me: “Thank you for calling [eye doctor's office], how can I help you?”
Lady: “Hello, I want to check on the status of my glasses.”
Me: “Okay, what is your full name?”
Lady: “Lori Johnson, spelled L-O-R-I.”
Me: “Okay, hold please.”
(I check the computer for Lori Johnson and it doesn’t come up. I then check alternative spellings things like Laurie, Lory, Lauri, etc. All to no avail.)
Me: “I’m sorry Miss, would you mind giving me your date of birth?”
Lady: “12-21-1969.”
(I do a search for that date of birth and one name comes up. Lori Smith.)
Me: “Would you by chance be listed under any other name?”
Lady: “NO!”
Me: “Okay, I’ll try searching by address.”
(She gives me her address and sure enough, it matches Lori Smith.)
Me: “I seem to have you listed in our computer as ‘Lori Smith’.”
Lady: “That’s not me.”
Me: “Well the date of birth matches, as does the address. Would you like me to search by social security number?”
Lady: “That’s not my name. I got married and my last name is Johnson now!”
Me: “Oh I’m sorry, your insurance still has you listed as Smith so that’s how we got mixed up. You’ll probably want to call them.”
Lady: “That’s no excuse.”
Me: “I’m sorry. But there was no way for us to know you got married.”
Lady: “It was in the newspaper!”
Me: “Okaaaaaay.”
Customer: “I’ll have a margarita please.”
(I get a margarita and serve it to the woman.)
Customer: “Excuse me, miss? Can I please have another margarita? This one doesn’t have enough quatilia in it.”
Me: “Ma’am, your drink is strong, I can guarantee it.”
Customer: “How do you know there is enough quatilia in this?”
Me: “Because you said “quatilia.”
Customer: “Yeah, and?”
Me: “It’s called ‘tequila.’”
(Customer face turns a nice shade of crimson.)
Me: “Good evening, how may I help you?”
Customer: “Yes, I placed a carry-out order there tonight and it’s all f***ed up!!”
Me: “Ok ma’am, I’m sure we can resolve this.”
Customer: “This always happens here.”
Me: “Have you placed a lot of carry-out orders with us within the past few weeks?”
Customer: “Yes, four in the past two weeks, and they were all wrong.”
Me: “Well were they expensive items? Such as our 20oz porterhouse or our foie gras? Or were they cheaper items such as potato skins?”
Customer: “Both. Mostly porterhouse steaks though. And I want free food to make up for all of this, and I want it delivered.”
Me: “Well ma’am, I’d be happy to do that.”
Customer: “You’d better be!”
Me: “May I have your name, and address so I can have these delivered?”
Customer: “Amy ***. My address is ***.”
Me: “Thank you, ma’am. Just so you know, we have never carried a porterhouse steak, or foie gras. Nor have we had potato skins in the past 5 years. By the way, we have not done carryout for 7 months. And to top it off the police will soon be heading over to that address that you so graciously gave to me; undermining a store keeper is a crime in this city. Have a nice night.”
Related:
How To Scam A Scammer, Part 2
Lesson 1, How To Scam A Scammer
(Customer approaches cash desk with two t-shirts with a price tag of $14.99 each. I scan the t-shirts.)
Me: “Oh, they scan at $7.99 each.”
Customer: “The sign on the table where I found them says that they’re 2 for $20.00.”
Me: “I know, but they scan at $7.99.”
Customer: “…but the sign says 2 for $20.00.”
Me: “I know, but head office must have changed the sale and updated the computer before we had a chance to change the sign. So you can buy the shirts for $7.99 each.”
Customer: “I don’t care what price comes up in the computer. The sign says 2 for $20.00 so you have to sell them to me at that price!”
Me: “Okay.”
(I override the $7.99 price in the computer and change it to $10.00. The customer pays two dollars more per shirt than he has to and smugly goes on his way.)
Me: “The Medic Recordings, how may I help you today?”
Customer: “You know why I’m calling! Can I just come?!”
Me: “Ma’am, whats the problem?”
Customer: “Oh yes I’m sorry, it’s my son. He’s very sick.”
Me: “Ma’am this is a recording studio. Are you sure you dialed the right number?”
Customer: “WHAT?! The phone book says ‘The Medic’!”
Me: “Uh…it says The Medic Recordings, I believe…”
Customer: “This is ridiculous, I don’t care what you are. I’m coming in, my son has a terrible fever!”
Me: “Ma’am I don’t think we could help you–”
Customer: “JUST BE READY!”
*Click*
(Sure enough, she showed up about 15 minutes later and was obviously drunk because she had no son nor did she know why she came.)
Related:
I Got Alky On My Mind
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