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    The Stairway To Heaven Is To The Left

    | Springfield, MO, USA | Musical Mayhem

    (This occurs when I have just gotten off of work. I have my hair down, and I am waiting on my fiancé to come pick me up. I’m an almost 29-year-old female with a passionate love for music. I listen to a bit of everything. Today, I happen to be singing to Kashmir by Led Zeppelin.)

    Older Customer: “STOP SINGING THAT!”

    Me: “Sir?”

    Older Customer: “You are singing Led Zeppelin. You are too young to listen to that. It makes me SICK!”

    Me: “Watch me.”

    (I put in my ear buds, crank the volume up and continue singing along.)

    Older Customer: “Young people trying to live in OUR ERA!” *stomps off*

    To Bacon, Or Not To Bacon, That Is The Digestion

    | Los Angeles, CA, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink, Top

    (I am taking a table’s order.)

    Me: “Okay, sir. What can I get for you to eat?”

    Customer: “I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger, but if they add bacon to it, I don’t want bacon.”

    Me: “So, do you want a regular cheeseburger?”

    Customer: “No. I want my burger to have bacon on it. But if it comes with bacon, then I don’t want bacon.”

    (I have absolutely no idea what he is asking for, and all his friends seem to be as confused as I am.)

    Me: “Okay, just to make sure I am understanding you correctly, I am going to repeat what you are asking for.”

    Customer: “Okay.”

    Me: “You want a bacon cheeseburger, and if there is bacon on it, you don’t want the bacon.”

    Customer: “Right.”

    Me: “But you definitely want the bacon on the burger.”

    Customer: “Right.”

    (Now all his friends are laughing, and I have no idea what to say. Suddenly, the customer realizes what he’s been saying.)

    Customer: “PICKLES! Oh my God, I don’t want PICKLES on the burger!”

    Me: “Oh, thank God! I was starting to think I went crazy!”

    A Few Slices Short Of A Pie

    | Mississippi, USA | Food & Drink, Math & Science

    (I am taking an order over the phone. The caller has never ordered here before and isn’t familiar with the menu.)

    Caller: “How many slices are on your 12 inch?”

    Me: “8.”

    Caller: “What about your 18 inch?”

    Me: “8.”

    Caller: “I thought the 12 inch had 8 slices.”

    Me: “It does. They both have 8 slices.”

    Caller: “How is that possible? If they both have 8 slices, shouldn’t they be the same size?”

    Me: “No, miss. The slices are just different sizes. The number of slices doesn’t make the size of the pizza. They both have 8 slices, but the 18 inch has much bigger slices.”

    Caller: “Oh. Right. Can you cut it twice, to make the slices smaller?”

    Me: “Of course. We can double cut it for you.”

    Caller: “So, how many slices would that be? What, 12?”

    Me: “16.”

    Caller: “No. If you normally have 8 slices, and you cut them twice, it should be 12 pieces, not 16.”

    Me: “It’s 16, Miss. 8 times 2 is 16.”

    Caller: “Whatever…I don’t think so. You have wings?”

    Me: “Yes.”

    Caller: “What sizes?”

    Me: “8, 12, 18, 24, and 50.”

    Caller: “Oh, alright. I’ll take a 10 piece.”

    Me: “We have an 8 piece and a 12 piece.”

    Caller: “No, I said a 10 piece.”

    Me: “I know…we don’t have a 10 piece, but we do have an 8 piece or a 12 piece.”

    Caller: “I’m pretty sure you have a 10 piece. My sister said she always gets a ten piece. Are you new? Maybe you should check the menu!”

    Me: “I’ve worked here for 3 years. We’ve never had a 10 piece and I’m looking at the menu on the computer right now. 8 or 12?”

    Caller: “Fine. 12!”

    Oh, The Inhumanity

    | Boston, MA, USA |

    Customer: *looks at my name tag* “Hmm…’Karen’. I didn’t realize you guys had names.”

    (I assume the customer means he didn’t realize we have name tags.)

    Me: “Oh, yeah…we always have name tags in case you ever need to ask for us.”

    Customer: “No, I didn’t know all you people who worked here had names. It’s neat!”

    Be Discrete On The Receipt

    , | Kansas, USA | Bizarre

    (I am ringing up a customer. Note that the receipts automatically print on credit transactions.)

    Me: “Would you like your receipt?”

    Customer: “No! How dare you! You better not give me receipt! I will be so pissed!”

    Me: “Oh, um, okay then!”

    (I finish ringing her up and the receipt prints automatically.)

    Customer: “Why did you print that?! I told you I didn’t want it! Do I need to slap you?!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. They print automatically when you use a credit card. You don’t have to take it or anything.”

    Customer: “I hate you young kids who think you know everything! You print receipts like it’s nothing!”

    Me: *not knowing what to say* “Well, have a great evening.”

    Customer: “How could I?! You printed the receipt!”

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