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    A Couple Of Annoying Squirts

    | USA | Bad Behavior, Family & Kids, Top

    (Our shop is pretty quiet at the moment. The only customer in it is a twenty-something woman, eating her meal and reading a book. Two boys, about fifteen and thirteen, come in carrying what appears to be badly painted water pistols.)

    Older Boy: Yo, b****! This is a stick up!

    Younger Boy: “Yeah, give us all your money! Empty the register.”

    (At this point, the woman looks up. She gets a very angry look on her face.)

    Me: “Those aren’t real guns.”

    Older Boy: “F***, yeah, they are! Hurry up!”

    (The woman walks over to them and taps the older boy on the shoulder.)

    Older Boy: *turns around* “What the?”

    (He freezes and stutters for words. The woman smacks the other boy’s head with her book.)

    Woman: “What the h*** do you two think you’re doing? Are those squirt guns?”

    (Both boys look shocked. The older one is beet red and the younger one is actually crying.)

    Woman: “Go to the corner, right this instant! I’m calling your mother.”

    (Both boys go to sit in the corner of the restaurant.)

    Woman: “Ah! Apologize to this nice lady first!”

    Both Boys: “S…s…sorry!”

    Woman: “Now go stand in that corner and face the wall!”

    (Both boys obey and stand against the wall. The woman then turns back to me.)

    Woman: “I’m sorry, I really am.”

    (The woman proceeds to call their mother, who shows up five minutes later and hauls both boys out. Apparently, the woman is their aunt. She left us two twenty dollar bills in our tip jar!)

    The Absence Of The Lambs

    | Dunedin, New Zealand | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

    Customer: “Do you have any mutton pies?”

    Me: “No, sorry we don’t.”

    Customer: “I’ll have one of your mutton pies, thanks.”

    Me: “Sorry, we don’t have any mutton pies.”

    Customer: “Are your mutton pies done in the Scotch style?”

    Me: “No… because we don’t have any.”

    Customer: “Can I grab two of the mutton pies, then?”

    Me: “No, because we haven’t got any. I don’t even think we have any lamb pies either, for that matter.”

    Customer: “Well, can I get a lamb pie, then?”

    Me: “I’ll check if we have any, but I don’t think we do. Hey Shaun! We got any lamb?”

    Shaun: “No! Don’t have any!”

    Me: “Steve, we got any—”

    Steve: “NO!”

    Me: “Seems we don’t have any lamb, sorry.”

    Customer: “Are you sure?”

    Shaun and Steve: *at the same time* “YES!”

    Customer: “Oh, well… can I grab a couple of mutton pies, then?”

    Me: “No. Because we don’t have any. And we don’t have any lamb either. No lamb or mutton pies.”

    Customer: “What do you have then?”

    Me: “Well we have mince.”

    Customer: “I’ll take a venison pie, thanks.”

    Me: “Here’s your pie. Have a nice day.”

    (After the customer leaves, the next customer, who has been there through the entire conversation, steps up.)

    Next Customer: “What an idiot, aye?”

    Me: “Well, it takes all sorts. So, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “Can I grab a lamb pie, thanks?”

    Polly Want A Manner

    | Israel | Awesome Customers, Pets & Animals

    (A man walks in with a parrot sitting on his shoulder.)

    Customer: “Hello!”

    Me: “Hi!”

    Customer: “I would like one bun with sunflower seeds!”

    Me: “Here you go.”

    (The customer pays and takes the bun. He then takes off the sunflower seeds and feeds them to his parrot.)

    Me: *laughing* “Bon appetite!”

    Customer: “Thank you!” *to the parrot* “Say thank you!”

    Parrot: “Thank you.”

    Me: “You’re very welcome!”

    ((The customer leaves, still feeding the seeds to his parrot. A few minutes later he comes back with the bun, which is now completely seed free.)

    Customer: “Do you have a trash can? I don’t need it any more.”

    Me: “Ah… sure, give it here.”

    Customer: “Very good! Goodbye!” *to the parrot* “Say goodbye to the girl!”

    Parrot: “Bye bye!”

    (They both leave, having seriously made my day.)

    Christmas Housing Crisis

    | Vancouver Island, BC, Canada | Bigotry, Holidays, Theme Of The Month, Wild & Unruly

    (For Christmas, the bakery I work at makes elaborate gingerbread houses, complete with some reindeer, Santa, and a few trees. Understandably, the whole thing is rather fragile, and pricey, and we wrap them carefully and display them on top of the pastry case with signs requesting that customers seek help before handling them. A customer walks in and wanders up to the display case and starts to examine the gingerbread houses. As Christmas is busy, my coworkers and I are not paying attention, she ends up breaking the reindeer and some trees in one of the gingerbread houses when she handled it.)

    Customer: “Excuse me!”

    (There’s a line of ten people in front of her, so we politely but quickly ask her to step in line. She shakes the very fragile gingerbread house at us.)

    Customer: “Excuse me! I want to buy a gingerbread house! This one is broken!”

    (As the most senior front end employee, I end up walking to the front and helping her.)

    Me: “I’m terribly sorry. We have others.”

    (I start to reach for an intact one, but she shakes the one she’s holding, breaking it further.)

    Customer: “No! Those ones are probably just as stale as this one. That’s why it broke! You shouldn’t be selling your customers such cheap product.”

    Me: “No, ma’am, it broke because you’ve been shaking it. I can assure you that they were all put together yesterday.”

    Customer: “Real gingerbread doesn’t break like that! I want to speak to your manager!”

    Me: “I’m the worker in charge tonight, ma’am, and I can assure you that, when shaken, gingerbread breaks like most other pastries.”

    (She fumes and reached for another one. I quickly intercept and, after a few bitter words, she allows me to take down the gingerbread house she wants. Before letting her touch it, though, I turned it carefully so she could see that it was all intact. I then ring her in, charging double, which she was quick to jump on.)

    Customer: “What? They’re $45 dollars! I will not pay $100 for a gingerbread house!”

    Me: “No, ma’am, the broken ones are $45. Some people prefer them in bite size pieces. The intact ones take much longer to prepare, so we have to charge extra.”

    Customer: “This f***ing store is a godd*** disgrace! Owned by an Arab!” she’s referring to the head pastry chef who is Filipino* “-and a f***ing c****!” *referring to me, as I’m half-Chinese*

    (She throws a $100 bill on the counter and storms off, almost knocking an elderly man to the ground when she opens the door to leave. I ended up using the extra $50 to buy the other customers hot drinks, and passed out the broken gingerbread to accompany the beverages. Needless to say, we got some pretty amazing tips that night. The customer came back to complain later when the owners were around, but the head chef’s husband gave her a proper telling off when he heard her refer to his wife as an Arab.)

    The Cake Is A Lie, Part 3

    | IN, USA | Bizarre, Crazy Requests, Top

    (My aunt and uncle own a small bakery, specializing in artisan breads, muffins, and bagels. They have never sold cakes, cupcakes, or doughnuts. They also bought this shop in 1989, and have owned it ever since. It is a busy week for them, as one of their bakers is out sick. I am filling in and helping them out while their baker is recovering. A customer walks in who I have never seen before. She is carrying an arm load of wedding planning brochures and folders, and is speaking to me between text messages she is sending on her phone.)

    Me: “Hi, welcome to [bakery]! How can I help you today?”

    Customer: “Yes, I need to place an order for a wedding cake. My daughter is getting married next week!” *she beams with pride*

    Me: “Well, congratulations to your daughter! That’s wonderful news, but I’m afraid we don’t sell cakes. We do offer various types of bread, muffins, and bagels, however.”

    Customer: “Good. I want it to be a three-tiered cake. On the top tier, I want carrot cake. The second tier should be dark chocolate. The bottom tier should be lemon. All of that with cream cheese icing. Doesn’t that sounds wonderful?”

    Me: “Yes, ma’am, it does. However, as I just said, we don’t sell cakes here. We only sell bread, muffins, and bagels.”

    Customer: “Oh, and on the top tier, could you make sure the carrot cake has no raisins? My darling hates raisins!”

    Me: “Again, ma’am, we don’t sell nor bake cakes here.”

    Customer: “What kind of special designs can you put in the icing? Her colors are black and pink, and I would like the cake to have a very modern, contemporary look.”

    Me: “Ma’am, we don’t sell cakes. I’m sure that a wedding cake specialist could make you what you want, but we can’t do that here. I do have the name of a great wedding cake designer that we refer customers to quite often, and you are free to make an appointment with her to discuss your daughter’s cake.”

    (The customer is not paying attention; she doesn’t even look up from her latest text message.)

    Customer: “Uh huh? Good.”

    Me: “Ma’am, we don’t sell cake.”

    Customer: *again, not looking up* “Okay, so the wedding is next week, Saturday. The wedding starts at 5:00, the reception at 7:00at [local hotel ballroom]. I’ll need it delivered to the hotel no earlier than 6:00, and no later than 6:30.”

    Me: “Ma’am, like I said, we don’t sell wedding cakes! I have the name of someone you can call, but with just over a week until the wedding I’m not sure she, or anyone, would have time to prepare what it is you are asking.”

    Customer: “Oh, and just put it on my house account with you and send me a bill.”

    Me: “Ma’am, we don’t do billing, and haven’t in the entire time I’ve been in this shop. Plus, we don’t sell wedding cakes!”

    Customer: *suddenly looking up* “What do you mean you don’t do billing?! I’ve been a loyal customer of this bakery for more than 20 years! I have never been told I couldn’t have a bill sent to my house! I am good friends with [the former owner from 1989], I’ll have you know!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sure you and [former owner] are good friends. However, they sold this bakery to the current owners in 1989. She has not owned, nor been affiliated with, this bakery in 23 years.”

    Customer: *goes back to her phone as a new text message comes in* “Yes, I thought you’d see things my way! Now, I have to run. Bill me, my name should be in your system!”

    (As I try to protest and get her attention, she sweeps out the door while answering an incoming phone call. Since I did not know her name, or any way to reach her, I simply wrote off the experience as an oddity and continued about my day. I left a note for my uncle, who was opening the next day, but he apparently didn’t share the note about the customer with my aunt.)

    (The next week, on Friday afternoon, I get a frantic phone call from my aunt. She is upset and asking something about me taking an order for a wedding cake, and begging me to come down to the bakery to help her figure out what is going on. As I enter the bakery, the woman from earlier is back, having come in to check on the status of the cake order, and my heart sinks.)

    Customer: *pointing to me* “Him! He is the one who took my order, guaranteed that it would be ready, and promised to bill me for it! Why would you hire such a worthless piece of trash?!”

    Aunt: “Miss, that is my nephew. Please do not call him names.”

    Customer: “Oh, I’ll call him whatever I want to call him! He screwed up and deserves to be held accountable here!”

    Aunt: “Miss, as I already told you, we have never sold wedding cakes. I don’t know what you are talking about!” *then, to me* “Did you promise her a wedding cake, to be delivered tomorrow to [local hotel ballroom]?”

    Me: “No, I didn’t. In fact, that is opposite of what I told her. I told her, several times, that we do not sell wedding cakes, and never have. I tried to give her [wedding cake designer]‘s name, but she didn’t listen to me.”

    Customer: “Like h*** you did! You promised me a cake for my daughter’s wedding! Her wedding is tomorrow and I demand you make sure her cake is there!”

    Me: “There is nothing we can do. I told you, several times, that all we sell are breads, muffins, and bagels. We don’t sell cakes. We don’t deliver. And we don’t bill people. I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that earlier. I’d be happy to offer you a couple loaves of bread if it would help smooth things over here. But, I’m sorry; there is nothing I can do about a wedding cake.”

    Customer: “I don’t want your disgusting breads! I want the cake you promised me!”

    (She starts swearing up a storm and threatening me bodily harm.)

    Aunt: “That’s it! Ma’am, my nephew explained to you when you first came in that we don’t sell cake. He offered to put you in contact with a wedding cake designer. You didn’t listen to him, so this mistake is all yours. Now, you are threatening him. Please, leave, before I call the police.”

    Customer: “You haven’t heard the last of this! You will all be sorry for what you have done here!”

    (Sure enough, she stayed true to her promise. Over the next six months we heard from her, four different attorneys she hired, her daughter, and her new son-in-law. Each time we explained to a family member what had happened, they apologized profusely for her behavior once they realized what kind of bakery we were. Each attorney we sat down with who represented her apologized for wasting our time, and then dropped her case. Two of those attorneys are now regular customers of the bakery and love the breads!)

    Related:
    The Cake Is A Lie, Part 2


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