Realized He’s Nuts Before You Did

| NY, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(I am the customer in this case and can only blame it on the fact that I hadn’t had any coffee yet!)

Waiter: “And what would you like, ma’am?”

Me: “Um, the granola; does it come with yogurt?” *points at meal description that has ‘YOGURT’ at the top of the list*

Waiter: “Yes.”

Me: “Oh, okay. And the toasted coconut… would I be able to get this without the coconut?”

(I see the incredulous look on the waiter’s face. I’m basically asking him to go through mixed granola and pick out coconut shreds by hand, and try to save face…)

Me: “…or would that be a tall order?”

Waiter: “Yes, ma’am.  That would be a VERY tall order.”

Children Don’t Count And Adults Can’t Count

| Anaheim, CA, USA | Food & Drink, Wild & Unruly

(I work as a lead host in a well known restaurant, in a well known, famous, and popular vacation resort area. People come here with their families a lot.)

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [Restaurant]. How many are in your party today?

Guest: Oh, I need six and three-high chairs.”

(I’m extremely used to guests giving us their party total like this that I automatically total their party size for them.)

Me: “So nine total?”

Guest: “No, six and three high chairs.”

Me: “Yes… so… nine bodies total.”

Guest: “Well, sorta. I mean there’s six of us and maybe like three halves…”

Me: “Uh… okay, nine total people.”

Guest: “Well, the three are children.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I understand. However, because they require their own seat and take up seating space, I need to count them as well. So it’ll be a total of nine.”

(Normally, most guests understand this and agree with and move on so we can get them seated but for some odd reason, this guest did not seem to understand what I was trying to explain to her. She stared at me while I type down her information into our system.)

Guest: “No, hold on. I told you, I need six seats… and three high chairs.”

Me: “Right… and those high chairs take up space, so it’ll technically be nine seats total, but three of those nine are going to be high chairs and not regular chairs.”

Guest: “No! I need six seats and three high chairs! What part of that do you not understand.”

Me: “No, I understand, ma’am.”

Guest: “SO JUST GET ME A TABLE!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Guest: “Gosh, how can you be so stupid!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Guest: “They should fire you for not being able to do basic math.”

(My manager overhears this exchange between the guest and I and immediately steps into the conversation. She asks what was the problem and begin to take down her information into our system, personally. My manager then asked her how many people were in her party.)

Guest: “I need six and three high chairs.”

Manager: “Great! So nine total.”

Guest: “No. Six. And Three. High. Chairs.”

Manager: “Right. Nine total.”

Guest: “OH, MY GOD! I JUST NEED A TABLE THAT WILL FIT SIX PEOPLE AND THREE KIDS! AND THOSE THREE KIDS NEED HIGH CHAIRS! HOW HARD IS THAT TO UNDERSTAND?!”

Manager: “Ma’am, we count your children as people as well and since they require their own seats, though the seats might be in the form of a high chair, they are included in the party size as well. Do not worry; I will get you the proper table size.”

Guest: “How do they count as people? They are like… halves of a person!”

(My manager at this point is obviously fed up with the guests who cannot understand what we both tried to explain to her. So she takes off her glasses, look at the guest straight in the eyes with the most serious face on.)

Manager: “So which half did you bring of your children? The upper part of the torso? Or the lower part? How do you even decide?”

Guest: “YOU KNOW WHAT?! FORGET IT! I cannot believe they hire a group of people who cannot do math! No wonder why you are all stuck working here! GO BACK TO SCHOOL BECAUSE YOU ALL OBVIOUSLY NEED IT!”

(The guest gathers her family and storms out of the restaurant. As they leave, the little girl in the party comes walking up to me and my manager, who are simply just staring at the woman who was forcing her family to leave.)

Little Girl: “Sorry… my mom is crazy.”

Flogging A Dead Animal

| Springfield, MO, USA | Bizarre, Food & Drink, Pets & Animals, Theme Of The Month

(As one of the eight fast-food restaurants that is within walking distance to the three college campuses in our town, our joint gets it’s fair share of college kids. And idiots. We are extremely busy on Thanksgiving when this happens.)

Me: *answering the phone as I take a guest’s money* “Happy Thanksgiving! How can I help you?”

Caller: “I want to file a complaint.”

Me: “Oh. Well, sir, our manager is really busy right now making food; can I help you, instead?”

Caller: “I came into your restaurant earlier today, and I got a [Burger] sandwich. I took it home, and tried to eat it, but my dog took it from me, and now he’s dead.”

Me: “Uh…”

Caller: “Well?! I want something done!”

(At this point, I hear sniggering in the background, and realize that this is another prank-call. I fake a laugh, and hang up the phone, getting back to work with our huge queue. Minutes later, the phone rings again.)

Me: “Happy Thanksgiving! How can I help you?”

Same Caller: “Yeah, I have to file a complaint. I came into your store earlier, and I ordered a [Burger] for my cat. When I got home and fed it to her, she died! How are you going to fix this?”

Me: “I’ll get a manager, sir.”

(I hang up the phone instead, and tend to people who are actually PAYING for my attentions. When the phone rings again, and I recognize the number, I ask my manager if I can take the call at the counter instead, just so I can stop running around.)

Caller: “I’m calling to report—”

Me: “Sir, are you calling to report that one of our [Burger]s killed a beloved family animal?”

Same Caller: “Yes. That is exactly why I am calling!”

Me: “Sir, I am so, SO sorry about that. We’ve gotten a lot of calls today about our deadly sandwich, and obviously, that can’t continue.”

Same Caller: “I know. It SUCKS!”

Me: “Sir, please accept our fullest apologies for the agony we have put you through in this mourning. We are prepared to make amends. Do you still have the receipt for the purchase?”

Same Caller: *obviously a little confused by the change in conversation* “Uh… no.”

Me: *cheerily* “Oh, well, that’s okay! You don’t need to have proof of purchase. Tell me, do you still have the bag from your sandwich?”

Same Caller: “Yeah…”

Me: “Good. Now, sir, is the body of the animal nearby?”

Same Caller: “Yes, it’s over there.”

Me: *grinning* “Then sir, I have excellent news! We will be able to help you today! If you can just take the carcass of your deceased pet, pick it up, and place it in the bag, we will be able to accept it as currency at this time.”

(My manager is giving me the death glare, but several of my guests on counter are laughing, so I continue.)

Same Caller: “WHAT?”

Me: “Well, sir, you don’t have a receipt, and we can’t in all good conscience allow you to be miserable over this. So, just this once, if you will bring in the body of your deceased, we will accept it in the form of a receipt, and give you a free [Burger] with our condolences. We hope to see you soon!”

(The guest hung up. My manager, though laughing, told me never to do it again. Needless to say, the jerk didn’t show up.)

Stupidity That Defies Explanation

, | London, England, UK | At The Checkout, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Money

(I work in a fast food restaurant as a cashier. A grumpy old man approaches my counter with a voucher.)

Me: “Good morning. How can I help?”

Customer: “I’ll have a bacon and egg muffin with a coffee, and I have a voucher.”

(I take the voucher and ring it up at the discounted price.)

Me: “That’ll be £1.99, please.”

Customer: “What?” *complete with a puzzled/angry expression*

Me: “That’ll cost you one pound and 99 pence, sir.”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “…I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I want to use this voucher, for a free coffee.”

Me: “Yes, with the voucher that costs £1.99.”

Customer: “No, no.”

Me: “Yes, it does, sir. The voucher is for a ‘free coffee with the purchase of a muffin.’ The bacon egg muffin is £1.99, and that’s all you’re paying so the coffee is free.”

Customer: “NO, I want a BACON AND EGG MUFFIN, and I want to use this voucher for a free coffee.”

Me: *at a loss for words* “Well… yeah, that’s fine, but it will cost you £1.99.”

Customer: “No, I’m not following you. You’ve lost me.”

Me: “Okay. You want a bacon egg muffin, and a coffee, yeah?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “Right, and you have a voucher. It says if you BUY a muffin, the coffee is free, yeah?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “Okay. So you must buy the muffin, which costs £1.99—”

Customer: “—no! I want to use the voucher.”

Me: “I’m sorry but I can’t explain it any more simply than that. The voucher says you need to buy a muffin to get a free coffee.”

Customer: “You’ve lost me; I want to speak to someone else.”

(I find my manager, who comes to my aid.)

Manager: “Hi, what was it you wanted?”

Customer: “I want a bacon and egg muffin and a coffee with this voucher!”

Manager: “Okay that’ll be £1.99 please.”

(The customer hands over £1.99 with no qualms! I can finally serve the idiot.)

Customer: *in a condescending tone* “That wasn’t difficult now, was it?”

Me: *in an even more condescending tone* “Nope, it really wasn’t.”

The Cake Order Is A Lie

| Hamilton, ON, Canada | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(As in many establishments, whenever we answer the phone we always answer with the name of our store, and our location.)

Me: “[Restaurant], Hamilton. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I ordered a cake from you guys and I’m supposed to pick it up tomorrow. I want some information changed with the writing on the cake.”

Me: “Okay, could you please give me your information so I can find your order sheet.”

(Customer proceeds to give me his information. We are an extremely small store and so any cake order is simply posted on a cork-board and easy to find. I cannot find his order and I start feeling anxious.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t seem to be able to locate your order sheet.”

(The customer starts getting very angry, calling us incompetent and that he specifically remembers placing this order, etc. I’m trying hard to keep it together because I am not used to people talking to me in the way this customer is. I try to see what I can do.)

Me: “Sir, if you wouldn’t mind calling me back in ten minutes, I’m going to look through the whole store to see if I can find your cake order.”

Customer: “You do that!”

(He hangs up. We have two freezers: one in the front of the store and one in the back. None of the cake orders match his description. I wait for his call back with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I answer the phone, again with the name of the store and location.)

Me: “[Restaurant], Hamilton. How can I help you?”

Customer: *angrily* “Well? Did you find it?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t.”

Customer: “Well you’d better fix this because this is all your fault and you’re going to ruin my mother’s birthday and I’m coming in tomorrow and it better be done! I can’t believe this. Do you even understand how irresponsible you are? How would you feel if someone f***ed up your order?!”

Me: “I would be upset as well, sir. I understand your anger.”

Customer: *condescendingly* “Well, that’s real diplomatic of you, kid.”

(He gives me his order again, then hangs up the phone. I’m really upset now and shaky, and I should have done this before, but I page my manager. When she calls me back, I tearfully explain the whole situation and she’s thoroughly angry at this guy. She has me call the only two other locations we have to check if they have the cake order, which they didn’t.)

Manager: “Wait a minute. Just humour me and call [Famous Ice Cream Chain] and see if they have his cake order.”

(Dubiously, I call the store. Please note, the names of our stores sound NOTHING ALIKE.)

Other Store: “How can I help you?

Me: “Hi, I’m calling from [Restaurant]. I just got a call from angry customer about his cake order. Do you happen to have [Customer]’s cake order?”

Other Store: “Yup. We sure do!”

Me: “Oh, my god, I’m so mad. I’m going to call you back.”

(I hang up and then call my manager.)

Me: “He totally ordered the cake from the other store!

Manager: “I knew it! And you answered the phone with our store name, right?”

Me: “Of course. Twice!”

Manager: “Okay, this is what you’re going to do. Call the store back, tell them to make the changes, and tell them to add this note. ‘Dear, sir, we have made the necessary changes to the cake as you have requested, DESPITE the fact that you called the wrong store multiple times, and we’re extremely rude to an employee of [Restaurant]. You are never to call [Restaurant] and order a cake from us. Sincerely, [Restaurant].”

(I called the other store, explained the situation, and I dictated the note to them, which they wrote down gleefully. I never found out if they actually gave the note with the cake but we never got a call from him again. Would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when he picked up his cake!)

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