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    Employee Of The Year, Part 2

    , | New Zealand |

    (I’m English and backpacking in New Zealand. I’ve just started work in a fast food place and am on the drive through for the first time.)

    Manager: “Okay. What you have to do is talk to the customers and make them feel really welcome. Get a bit chatty if you can.”

    Me: “Okay, no problem. Watch this…”

    (A customer drives down to my window to pay for his food.)

    Me: “Hey there, how you doing? That will be [price].”

    Customer: “Where are you from?”

    Me: “England.”

    Customer: “Whereabouts in England?”

    Me: “Hull.”

    Customer: “ME TOO! I’m from *** Road!”

    Me: “Sweet, I grew up just round the corner from there! Was it a nightmare having them build the new stadium right on your doorstep?”

    Customer: “No way! Yer, was a right pain! Speaking of which, did you see the Tigers play the other night?”

    Me: “Nah, I missed it. I was working. I heard the result though, get it!”

    Customer: “Let’s see if we come out on top at the end of the season! Anyway, I best go pick up my food. I am sure you have other customers to serve. My name is *** by the way. What’s yours?”

    Me: “I’m ***.”

    (We shake hands through the window.)

    Customer: “Nice to meet you man. I will be sure to see you around.”

    Me: “Yeah, have a good day mate!”

    (The customer drives to the next window. I turn to look at my manager who has a look of total disbelief.)

    Me: “And that’s how you do that.”

    Manager: “Yeah, I will leave you to it. I think you got the hang of it!”

    Related:
    Employee Of The Year

    A Snake Eating Its Own Tail

    , | Essex, VT, USA |

    (It’s late at night and only one manager, another employee, and I are working. I’m manning the drive-thru when a car pulls up.)

    Customer: *over speaker* “I just came through the drive-thru, and I got a fish sandwich.”

    Me: “Okay, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “There was a bite in my sandwich!”

    Me: “I’m sorry? Please drive around and I’ll see what I can do.”

    Customer: *at window* “What you can do, young lady, is get me a new sandwich.”

    Me: “Um, sir, nobody here would have taken a bite of your sandwich. Are you sure it didn’t just break off?”

    Customer: “NO! Give me a new sandwich! I just tasted this sandwich and it tasted terrible.”

    Me: “Wait – you bit the sandwich after you found a bite?”

    Customer: “No, you idiot! I bit the sandwich, and I need another one!”

    Me: “…”

    They Always Hunt In Packs

    , | Minnesota, USA |

    (I’m working at the fast food drive-thru with a particularly large group of cars in line.)

    Customer: “It sure got busy all at once.”

    Me: “Yeah, it happens like that.”

    Customer: “You know why that is, right?”

    Me: “No, tell me?”

    Customer: “We wait around the corner until we have a group of about ten cars, and then we swarm all at once!”

    (And from that day forward, everything made sense.)

    The Real Meaning Of Finger Food

    , | Bozeman, MT, USA |

    (I work at a restaurant that specializes in roast beef. A customer is standing at the end of the counter, staring at the meat slicer.)

    Customer: “Can I touch the beef?”

    Me: “Sorry?”

    Customer: “The beef. On the slicer. I want to touch it.”

    Me: “Uh, I can’t let you do that.”

    Customer: “But why?”

    Me: “Well, we can’t turn the slicer off during the lunch rush unless we’re putting a new roast on it.”

    Customer: “Oh, you don’t have to turn the slicer off, I just wanna touch the beef!”

    Me: “Well, I don’t want to serve anyone a sliced beef and finger sandwich today, so tough luck.”

    Dysfunctional Doppelgangers

    , | Cooby, Australia |

    (An old, drunken man stumbles in to our fast food restaurant.)

    Me: “Hello, how are you tonight sir?”

    (He stumbles to the front counter, leans over, and stares intently at my name badge.)

    Me: “Umm, can I help you?”

    Drunken customer: *reads my badge* “Tahiiinaaa..”

    Me: “…yes?”

    Drunken customer: “That’s a really pretty name. I want your name. Sell me your name!”

    Me: “Sorry, I can’t sell you my name… do you want some chicken?”

    Drunken customer: “I. WANT. YOUR. NAME!”

    (Suddenly, the drunken guy lunges over the counter and rips my badge off of my shirt and runs out of the store laughing.)

    Me, to my manager: “I think I need a new shirt…”

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