Unfiltered Story #199821

, , , | Unfiltered | July 1, 2020

I work at a pizza restaurant. We’re known for having dozens of topping options, all of which are listed on our website. People still call in and ask what we have, though, and we will read the list to them if they want. Usually we barely get through a dozen of the meat choices (the first section we read; we have veggie, seafood, cheese, and sauce sections too) before the customer will stop us and gives more of a direction for what they want. One night I was working, this situation happened, and the woman decided on what she wanted:

Her: I’lljust have sausage.

Me: What kind of sausage would you like? We have eight types available.

Her: What kinds?

I read her the list, which includes a turkey Italian sausage.

Her: What’s the turkey made from?

Me (thinking I misheard or misunderstood): I’m sorry?

Her: What kind of meat is the turkey made from?

Me: …

Her: …

Me: The turkey Italian sausage is made from turkey meat.

Her: Nah, I don’t want that. I’ll take the pork sausage.

I finished up her order and hung up. I turn to my coworkers, including one of the managers on at the time, and ask, completely straight-faced: What’s the turkey made from?