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    Manners Matter When You’re Madder

    , | New York, NY, USA | Money

    (An older, unkempt-looking man comes up to my counter.)

    Me: “Hello, and welcome to [restaurant]. Can I take your order, sir?”

    Customer: “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

    Me: “What would you like?”

    Customer: *pauses* “What do you want?”

    Me: “Sir, what would you like to eat?”

    Customer: “Stop rushing me, woman! Let me have some coffee!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. What kind of coffee would you like? We have—”

    (The customer throws a twenty dollar bill on the counter and starts shouting profanities at me and the other customers in the line.)

    Customer: “D*** kids these days! Just give me my f***ing coffee, b****!”

    Me: “I apologize, sir, but I can’t serve you if you don’t tell me what kind of coffee you would like. Unfortunately, you are disrupting the other patrons and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

    Customer: “I’LL LEAVE ‘CUZ I WANT TO LEAVE!” *leaves in a huff*

    (In his haste, the customer left his twenty dollar bill on the counter. He never returned, so I ended up paying for the next few customers’ meals with the money that he left behind.)

    A Senior Moment To Go, Please

    | Pennsylvania, USA | Money

    (I am working in a sub shop when two elderly ladies approach. One orders for both of them.)

    Customer: “I want a tuna sub.”

    Me: “Okay, is that a footlong?”

    (I’m assuming they are getting a footlong to split, but I have to ask to be sure.)

    Customer: “No, it’s for here.”

    Me: “Okay, but is that a footlong or a 6 inch?”

    Customer: *looks at me confused* “What?”

    Me: “Is your sub a footlong or a 6 inch?”

    Customer: “No, it’s a footlong.”

    (I go down the line making the rest of her sandwich for her without any other problems. When we get to the register, they get two bags of chips and two coffees. Then, they ask for the senior discount, which I give them.)

    Me: “That will be $9.31 today.”

    Customer: “That’s not right.”

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Customer: “I thought the sub was $5.”

    Me: “Actually, with your senior discount it only costs $4.50, but you also have the chips and the coffees, which brings your total to $9.31.”

    Customer: “But the sub’s supposed to be $5.”

    Me: “Yes, and it is $5. However, you also got the chips, which are $0.89 a piece and the coffees, which are about $1.29 a piece. Then, theres tax.”

    Customer: “But I thought that the sub was $5.”

    (This goes on for about five more minutes, with me explaining everything she’s got and how her total is $9.31. After about five more minutes, she finally gets it.)

    Customer: “Oh, the coffee and the chips cost about $1 each, so it’s $9.31!”

    Social Insecurity, Part 2

    | USA | Bizarre

    (I am working a counter at a carry-out pizza place when this happens. Note: we use phone numbers to identify orders.)

    Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “I want to order a pizza to take.”

    Me: “Okay, can I have your phone number please?”

    Customer: “No!”

    Me: “Sorry for having to ask. It’s just what we use to make sure you get the right order.”

    Customer: “No! Hackers and the government are always trying to track me!”

    Me: “It’s fine, sir. I’ll just use our store’s phone number instead.”

    Customer: *calms down* “Alright.”

    (Satisfied, the customer pays and waits in his car for the order. Being nice, I carry it to him.)

    Me: “Here is your order, sir.”

    Customer: “Thank you. Say, can you throw this away for me?” *hands me papers mixed with trash*

    Me: “No problem…”

    (As he drives away, I notice he’s handed me expired car insurance papers and an old bank statement. So much for protecting his identity!)

    Related:
    Social Insecurity

    How About Some Split Pee Soup

    | San Diego, CA, USA | Food & Drink, Language & Words

    Customer: “I’d like a latrine!”

    Me: “Oh, okay, the bathroom is just—”

    Customer: “No! How much is a latrine?”

    Me: “Well, ma’am, there’s no charge for using the—”

    Customer: “No! Of soup! How much?”

    Me: “OH! A tureen!”

    Customer: “Yes, how much is a latrine of soup?”

    The Engendered Confusion

    , | Miami, FL, USA | Food & Drink, Math & Science

    (I’m in the back taking money and orders when a customer pulls up to my window.)

    Customer: “I heard that your chicken sandwiches aren’t made of chicken. I heard they’re actually made of rooster.”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: “Your chicken sandwiches aren’t made of chickens, but roosters, right?”

    Me: “Roosters are chickens, sir.”

    Customer: “No, they’re not!”

    Me: “Yes, roosters are male chickens and hens are female chickens.”

    Customer: “Oh, it’s like that human thing, too…boy and girl! I see…” *drives off without ordering anything*


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