Unfiltered Story #56694

Unfiltered | January 8, 2016

[To celebrate my early graduation, my mother and aunt (middle-aged women) took me out to a certain diner-esque restaurant. An item on the menu was crossed out, and my aunt asked what it was.]

Cashier: “Pickles. D*ckles. Shl*ngs. [several other euphemisms for male “equipment”].”

[When my aunt asked him not to use language like that…]

Cashier: “F*** you, I can say whatever I want.”

My mother: “That’s obscene! Let me speak to your manager!”

Cashier: “B****, I am the manager.”

[Annoyed, we left. There was a second iteration of the franchise in the town, and we went there instead. After a normal order, we asked the cashier at the second location about the guy at the first. He said he didn’t know the guy, but that the regional manager was present. Long story short, we got the ‘manager’ fired for being obscenely rude to customers.]

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