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    So-da Pressing

    , | WI, USA | Bizarre, Food & Drink

    (A customer asks for the manager, and seems clearly upset.)

    Manager: “Is there something I can help you with?”

    Customer: “Yes! Why are you using [soda brand] products? You know they have fetuses in them! How dare you use their product?”

    Manager: “Ma’am, I can assure you there are no—”

    Customer: “YES THERE ARE! I want to know why you’re using their product when they have fetuses in them!”

    Manager: “Let me get the head manager.”

    (She comes back with the head manager.)

    Head manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t decide what kind of soda products we use. That is up to corporate to decide. It’s not our personal decision to choose a specific type of soda.”

    Customer: “But they have fetuses in them!”

    Head manager: “Well, if you would like to complain, I would go ahead and contact corporate about the soda. I’m sorry, but I can’t do more for you.”

    Customer: “Well, I can’t believe you would use [soda brand]! They have fetuses in them!”

    (I’ve dealt with some unique people at that place, but she takes the cake!)

    Taking A Holiday From Reason

    , | Fast Food, Restaurant | MT, USA | Bizarre, Holidays

    (I am working the day before Christmas Eve. Our management has been pressing us to say ‘Happy Holidays’ so that people don’t get offended. However, sometimes I would slip up and say ‘Merry Christmas’ because of habit. I am also Wiccan, and therefore do not follow Christian practices.)

    Me: “Here is your order! Have a nice day, and Merry Christmas!”

    Customer: “Excuse me?”

    Me: “Um… here is your order?”

    Customer: “No, what you just said. You just wished me a Merry Christmas.”

    Me: “Yes… yes I did?”

    Customer: “How dare you! What if I didn’t believe in Christ! Do you know how offensive that would have been?! What if I was Jewish or Atheist?! You have really offended me! What do you have to say for yourself?!”

    Me: “Well, ma’am, I do apologize if I offended you. However, I don’t believe in Christ. I’m Wiccan. But I still celebrate Christmas because it’s a beautiful family holiday.”

    (The customer goes quiet for a moment. All of a sudden she starts yelling.)

    Customer: “How can you not believe in Christ?! He died for your sins on the cross! Do you have any idea what Christmas is about! It’s not about family; it is about the birth of Jesus! How dare you! I will never eat here again!”

    Hospitality Is Going South

    | LA, USA | Bigotry, Language & Words, Top

    Me: “Hello, thank you for calling [restaurant]. How can I help you today?”

    Customer: “I have some questions about a party coming in next week.”

    (I pull up our reservation book and review the information with the guest. She is very agitated, and makes a request that we are unable to take care of.)

    Me: “No ma’am. I’m afraid we have no way to do that. If you—”

    Customer: “How dare you! Don’t talk to me that way! I know exactly what you are doing! I hate it when you Southerners use ‘ma’am’! Don’t think I don’t know what you mean!”

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Customer: “I am so f***ing sick of your fake southern bulls***! I moved down here with my husband. He’s from here and I’m not. I’m so sick of you people calling me ‘ma’am’! I know that you aren’t really being polite, you’re being ugly to me and trying to pretend it’s polite so I won’t know what you’re f***ing doing! But I’m not a f***ing idiot. You are the rudest b**** I’ve ever met, you and all you other southern b*****s. F*** you!”

    (She hangs up and I am left thinking how sad her husband’s life must be. 15 minutes later, I get a phone call from the same woman.)

    Customer: *sheepishly* “I’m sorry. My husband heard the whole thing and demanded I apologize. He told me everyone in the South uses ‘ma’am’, and it’s just good manners. I just moved here with him and I can’t make any friends!”

    Good Men Are Rare

    | Cambridge, England, UK | Bigotry, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Top

    (I am a waitress at a high end chain of worldwide hotels. It is an extremely busy dinner shift. I am serving an obviously rich man, with who appears to be with a new girlfriend.)

    Me: “Good evening, sir, madam. Are you ready to order?”

    Male Customer: *showing off* “I want a steak, and I want it how the animals eat it. None of this namby-pamby cookery stuff. Just cave-man style, you know?” *he indicates the woman* “Oh, and just fetch her a salad, or something equally low-calorie. I don’t want her all bloated, if you know what I mean!?” *laughs in a creepy way*

    Me: “Erm, okay, sir. So, one blue steak and a house salad.”

    Male Customer: “That’s what I said wasn’t it? God, do they employ idiots here? And fetch me a bottle of your really good champagne; not the cheap stuff you give to the general public.”

    (I have already realized by this point he is going to be a painful customer, and feel sympathetic to his girlfriend, who is clearly embarrassed. I return with the steak and salad, and after his first mouthful I can hear him shouting across the restaurant).

    Male Customer: “Are you trying to kill me? Give me Mad Cow disease?”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. What appears to be the problem?”

    Male Customer: “My steak is bleeding! And cold in the middle! You’re trying to make me ill, and then charge me a ridiculous amount for it!”

    Me: “That is a blue steak. Simply lightly seared on the outside, whilst mainly raw in the middle ‘like the animals would have it.’ I assure you it’s perfectly fine to eat!”

    Customer: “I am a human being, not a dog! My food needs to be cooked! I will take you to court if I get food poisoning!

    (Luckily at this point my manager steps in to calm him down, as he is talking about suing the hotel. Later in the bar, I serve the girlfriend who is now alone. She thanks me for opening her eyes to what a jerk he is and tips me £20, and buys me a drink!)

    How To Give Customers The Crepes

    | Poughkeepsie, NY, USA | Food & Drink

    (The restaurant phone rings.)

    Me: “Thank you for calling [restaurant]. How may I help you?”

    Customer: “Yes, I’m calling to take a survey for my free short stack of pancakes.”

    (On receipts, there is a number to call for surveys, but she has called the restaurant.)

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you appear to have called the wrong number. You are supposed to call the number on your receipt, not the restaurant number.”

    Customer: “No! I’m taking this survey over the phone right now! Give me your manager!”

    (I proceed to call the manager, who comes up and takes the phone. I notice a woman talking into the phone and hear the exact voice I was talking to.)

    Me: “[Manager], this woman is actually sitting in the restaurant!”

    Manager: *into the phone* “One moment, ma’am.” *hangs up, then turns to me* “Where is she sat?”

    Me: *points over to her table* “Right there.”

    (He proceeds to walk over to the table with me in tow.)

    Manager: “Excuse me, ma’am. You have to exit the restaurant before you can claim your free pancakes.”

    Customer: “HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT WAS ME?! YOU STALKERS! I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” *storms out, red faced and embarrassed*

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