Me: “[Restaurant], how can I help you?”

Caller: “We need to make an order.”

Me: “Sure thing! Is this gonna be for delivery or pickup?”

Caller: “Delivery.”

I get their name and phone number into the system.

Me: “All right, what’s the street address?”

Caller: “We’re at the [International Hotel Chain].”

Me: “Okay, what is the address? There are a few around here.”

Caller: “Well, we’re not familiar with the area. It’s in [City we’re currently in.]”

Me: “Okay, there are three or four in [City]. Is there a main drag that you’re off of? A large street or highway?”

Caller: “Off of [Major Interstate that crosses a couple of states].”

Me: “Okay, what exit? I can try to look it up.”

Caller: “There’s a [Mexican Restaurant] next door!”

Being somewhat familiar with the area, I take a guess that they may be the next exit up from us.

Me: “Is there an office supply store across the street?”

Caller’s Husband: *In the background* “I don’t know! I’m looking out the window and all I see is a [Mexican Restaurant]!”

Me: *Googling* “Well, it looks like you may be on the next exit, which is just out of our delivery area. But fortunately, we can—”

Caller: *Click*

If she’d have listened, I’d have been able to suggest our new partnership with an app-based delivery service that would’ve been able to send someone to pick up and deliver her food. But how do you expect us to deliver if you can’t tell us where to go? Are we supposed to just know all of the hotels up and down the interstate and which one you’re magically in?

We’re all dealing with the global health crisis. In my area, the restrictions are thirty people inside, forty outside. The last people can come in at 21:00 and we close at 22:00.

I am the host, which means standing at the entrance, counting people. We have hit max capacity and are full, so a line is forming. I have about fifteen people waiting when a lady on crutches jumps the queue… very slowly. I think she’ll ask to use the bathroom, which would be fine.

Me: “Hello, ma’am, what can I d—”

Customer #1: “I have a broken ankle so I can’t stand. I can skip the line, right?”

I hate it when people think they can decide what they can or cannot do, so I’m not willing to let her in. Besides, I am full.

Me: “Well, ma’am, I may only let seventy people in, total. We’re at seventy now, so we have to wait. That’s why these people are all waiting, too.”

Customer #1: “I JUST WANT COFFEE AND I CAN’T STAND.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you in. Besides, if I had a spot open up, there are fifteen people before you. However, if you ask them nicely, they might let you go first, but you’d still need to wait for someone to leave. I can get you a chair so you can sit while you wait?”

Customer #1: “I DON’T NEED A CHAIR!”

Then, she turns to the people around her and sarcastically asks if she could skip the line.

Customer #2: “You’re not asking nicely enough; you can’t go before me.”

Some people snicker. The lady then turns to me and yells.

Customer #1: “Your service sucks and this place sucks!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but these are the rules now.”

Customer #1: “F*** you!”

She starts to hop away.

Customer #2: “No, f*** you, lady! Who do you think you are? We’re all dealing with this; he’s just doing what he’s told by the government. You should really chill!”

And off she went. I gave [Customer #2] a beer on the house when he went inside.

A table orders an omelette which has chorizo in it; this is listed with the other ingredients in the menu description. I confirm the order. The customers do not inform me of any dietary needs or restrictions. Later, when I bring the food out, this happens.

Customer: “Excuse me, but does this omelette have meat in it?”

Me: “Yes, it has chorizo.”

Customer: “We can’t have meat! We’re vegetarians!”

I then had to bring them a new omelette without meat, wasting food in the process, simply because they didn’t bother to ask what chorizo was. The customers never apologised for their mistake and they were annoyed that they had to wait for a new omelette. Also, I myself am a vegetarian. When I go out to eat, I always make sure to confirm that items are vegetarian, and if I don’t know what an ingredient is, I ask.

Related:
Chorizo-No-No

I’m taking a complaint about an issue with food within the store.

Caller: “I’m complaining about a fish cake meal which I bought for my child. After he ate it, he coughed up a fishbone!”

This is not the most unusual of circumstances; however, unfortunate as it is, we always have a disclaimer for any fish product which “may contain bones.”

Me: “We do apologise for any inconvenience caused. We will internally feed this back to the store to ensure they are aware of this.”

It turns out that the restaurant manager is already aware, as just a few days ago, a full refund was given for all four meals and drinks in store. However, the response from the customer to the email says:

Caller: “No, this isn’t good enough! I demand to know exactly how a bone got into my child’s fishcake!”

Having to physically restrain myself from the sarcasm of stating that fish can contain bones was more difficult than I anticipated, but I think I managed to just get past it!

Related:
He Has A Bone To Pick With You

While I have sometimes lifted heavy boxes at work, I’ve also hurt myself trying to do so. Generally, I only do it when there’s no one else to, because my coworker who’s around sixty-five will do it if I don’t. Today, I am working with an arrogant nineteen-year-old mansplainer who knows how to do everything. I’m somewhat of a private person, especially with people I don’t know or like.

Coworker: “Hey, we need big meat.”

That’s a forty-pound box that he is more than capable of lifting.

Me: “Okay.”

Coworker: “Well, go get it.”

Me: “Uh, no. I’m busy; you’re not.”

Coworker: “Just go get it.”

Me: “No. I’m not going to hurt myself trying to lift it.”

Coworker: “It’s just a box!”

Me: “Yeah, and I can’t lift forty-pounds very easily!”

Coworker: “Forty pounds is nothing.”

Me: “Not to me. It’s different for different people. I have hurt myself trying to pick those up and I’m not willing to do that today.”

Coworker: “How much do you weigh?”

Me: “That’s none of your business.”

Coworker: “Make a guess.”

I ignore him.

Coworker: “Tell me! How much do you weigh?”

Me: “No.”

Coworker: “Tell me! Now!”

Me: “No! That’s my personal business and you have no reason to ask me that question!”

Coworker: “Ugh! Fine!”

He stormed out. He did get the box, but he left the frozen food sitting on the counter so I still ended up having to put it away. No, this isn’t the first time he has attempted to ask me personal questions, like where I live, etc. I can’t stand working with him for many reasons, including how he treats me, especially since he doesn’t treat any of the guys the way he treats us girls.