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    The Estrogen Empire Strikes Back

    , | Calgary, Alberta, Canada | Bigotry, Top

    (A customer had a complaint about his food. He refused to let the girl working the register help him.)

    Man: “I want to talk to a manager.”

    Female employee: “Yes, sir.”

    (The employee gets a Shift Manager to help her.)

    Shift Manager: “Can I help you, sir?”

    Man: “No, I want a manager!”

    Shift Manager: “I am a Shift Manager, sir.”

    Man: “I want to see the Store Manager!”

    Shift Manager: “Uhm, okay sir, I’ll be right back.”

    (I was in the office working on the crew schedules for the next week. Sara comes in and asks me to deal with the customer. She didn’t need to explain. I’d heard it all… he was very loud. I went to help deal with the situation.)

    Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

    Man: “I want to see a f**king God-da** Manager! Where’s the @#$%ing Store Manager?”

    Me: “I am the store Manager, Sir.”

    Man: “I want to speak to a male manager!”

    Me: “Sir, all of my Shift Managers are female. As, clearly, am I.”

    (Actually, every person working that day was female.)

    Man: “I demand to speak to your @#%^ @#$%$ #@$% boss!”

    Me: “I can get you a number so you can call my District Manager, sir. Will that be okay?”

    Man: “Finally! DO IT NOW!”

    Me: “Yes, sir. Just a second.”

    (I go into my office and grab one of the District Manager’s cards.)

    Me: “Here you are, sir. If you give HER a call, I’m sure SHE will be happy to help you.”

    (I thought he was going to have a heart attack after that. Purple was definitely not his color.)

    Meatheaded

    , | Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada |

    Me: “Hi, welcome to [local and independent burger joint]. What can I get for you today?”

    Customer: “Hi…what’s on your combination burger?”

    Me: “A beef patty, sauce, onions, pickles, cheese and a chopped bacon patty.”

    Customer: “… And what’s on your mushroom burger?”

    Me: “A beef patty, mushrooms and mushroom sauce.”

    Customer: “…so what’s the difference?”

    SpecifiCity, USA

    , | Connecticut, USA |

    (I work at a sandwich shop. I have conversations like this every day. Mind you, he has a line of twelve other customers behind him. Also note that Hearty Italian only describes the type of bread.)

    Customer: “I’d like a six inch hearty italian.”

    Me: *gets bread* “What would you like on that?”

    Customer: “Six inch hearty italian.”

    Me: “What would you like ON it?”

    Customer: “Hearty italian.”

    Me: “What kind of sandwich is it?”

    Customer: “Six inch.”

    Me: *heavy sigh* “Oooookay then…”

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    DE TING, DE TING!!!

    Fun With Language Barriers

    , | Seattle, WA, USA | Top

    (I worked at this little burger joint in Seattle. I’m white, but I’m bilingual. Our grill workers all spoke primarily Spanish, so I would talk to customers in English and call back orders in Spanish.)

    Old Man Customer: “Now, what is a pretty young thing like you doing speaking the Dirty Man’s Language?”

    Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

    Old Man Customer: “You should be speaking English! Its only natural, here in America!”

    Me: “It’s just fastest, sir. The language communicates more efficiently in an environment like this.”

    (I was not about to tell him that the grill workers were mostly South American immigrants, after hearing his first reaction.)

    Old Man Customer: “Have some pride in your country! SPEAK ENGLISH when you call back my order, do you understand?”

    Me, knowing full well that his order wouldn’t actually come through if I did that: “I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid it’s procedure.”

    Old Man Customer: “I want to speak with your manager! This restaurant is just UNAMERICAN!”

    Manager, who had been working the register next to me: “Si, señor?”

    Old Man Customer: *storms out*

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    Welcome To People’s Pizza, Comrade

    The Fine Art Of Self Grossed-Outification

    , | Pasadena, CA, USA |

    (Note: we are VERY generous in offering frozen yogurt samples in those tiny paper cups that could fit on your thumb.)

    Me: “Here you go, our six choices!” *offers samples*

    (Customer takes samples and shoves the whole thing in her mouth and sucks contents out. When done, she puts the cups back on the counter with yogurt and a LITTLE bit of saliva dripping off the sides. She scoots them in my direction.)

    Me: *stares back, thinking, are you serious?*

    Customer: *stares back at me for what seems like forever*

    Me: “There is a trashcan right below you that you could put those in.”

    Customer: “Ew, I’m not touching those! That’s your job.”

    (The customer walks away, leaving me staring at the messy glob of cups on our front counter.)

    Me: O___o

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