Manager: “[My Name], can you help that customer?”

Assistant Manager: “[My Name], can you get those wings? Remember, make three kinds from two bags.”

Me: “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

(The oven begins to buzz.)

Assistant Manager: “[My Name], can you put price tags on these cups of chicken

salad?”

Me: “Hang on; I’m trying to do four things at once here.”

Manager: “[My Name], can you take out the trash?”

Me: “Make that five things.”

Assistant Manager: “Heh heh.”

Me: “Anything else?”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah, I want a pony. No, wait, make that a unicorn!”

Me: “Well, [Local University]’s mascot is the Pegasus. I don’t know about unicorns, but maybe they have one of those there.”

Assistant Manager: “I don’t want a Pegasus; I want a unicorn! No, wait. I want Rainbow Brite’s horse! Ugh… that was one of my favorite cartoons and now I can’t remember its name!”

Me: “Well, s***, don’t ask me what it is.”

Manager: “…Starlite?”

(Our manager is a 39-year-old man.)

Me: “Ooookay, that’s it. I’m outta here. I’m outta here before I inhale some pixie dust or something.”

(I grabbed the trash cart and headed out of the department as both managers began cracking up.)

(One day at work, I get a call from a number I don’t recognize. Here is the following conversation.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hello! My name… is Megan. Are… you… aware that… many people ha…ve been falsely charged… for operations? If yo…ou are between… the… ages of twenty… five and sevent…y, you could… be eligible… for a payback. Are you… between the ages of… twenty-five… and seventy?”

Me: “Sorry, Megan, not only have I never had an operation, but I don’t talk with robot callers.”

Caller: *actually managing to sound indignant* “I… can a…ssure you… I am a real…”

(The call suddenly cut off. Either that was the key to end the call or the scammer got scared.)

(I’m currently at the register because the manager on shift doesn’t like to be up there all day. I normally don’t mind too much, and he’ll put someone else on if I’m just not feeling it. It is getting late and we have several customers in the store when the manager comes up and leans in close, which is always a sign that he’s talking about a customer.)

Manager: *whispering* “There’s a man in a baseball cap with a frozen refill in a mug and he’s going to say it’s ice.”

(After he says that he gets off the register to return to the store and I wait for the man in question. After a couple of minutes a man fitting the description comes up with a fifty two ounce mug and says it is an ice refill.)

Me: “My manager just told me that that is a frozen refill.”

Man: *getting grumpy* “No, it’s ice.”

Me: “If it’s ice, could you open it and show me?”

Man: “Fine, just take it!”

(He shoved the mug at me, luckily not knocking it off the counter, before he stormed out of the store. I double-checked that, yes, the mug was filled with one of our frozen drinks. A few minutes later my manager came back up and told me that the man saw him and threatened ‘to get him.’ All of this over a dollar-something refill that we caught him trying to filch.)

(This is a conversation overheard between my coworker and two customers. Customer #1 is male and at the front of the queue, and has rather a large order of coffees. Customer #2 is behind him, a smaller woman who appears to be waiting impatiently. Our coffee machine on the bar is one of the typical barista-style ones with the nozzle for foaming the milk in a jug.)

Customer #1: *to my coworker* “So, I’ll have two cappuccinos.”

(My coworker makes them.)

Customer #1: “And two more, please.”

(My coworker makes them.)

Customer #1: “And a black coffee.”

(My coworker makes it.)

Customer #1: “And a tea.”

(My coworker makes it.)

Customer #1: “And three more cappuccinos. Sorry, love.”

(My coworker makes them. Thankfully after this, the customer decides that’s more than enough coffee for his group, and pays. Unfortunately, what with it being a very busy show, us being only a small bar, and his having ordered so many coffees, we have already run out of milk. My coworker turns to Customer #2 at this point and greets her.)

Coworker: “Good evening. What can I get you?”

Customer #2: “One cappuccino please.”

(My coworker explains to her that we are currently out of milk because of the large order she just took. The look on the woman’s face turns to pure rage.)

Customer #2: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, YOU DON’T HAVE ANY MILK?!”

(The entire room stops and falls silent.)

Customer #2: *still shouting* “I NEED MY COFFEE. WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?!”

(My coworker is biting back the urge to retort, judging by her face. I decide to step in.)

Me: “I’m sorry, madam, but my coworker just explained to you the situation. We can either make you a tea and get you some milk sachets from the lower bar, or we can send you there to get filter coffee.”

Customer #2: *turns to me* “Oh, FORGET IT! You stupid people, not having any milk! This is ridiculous!”

Me: “Madam, you have shouted at my coworker and me, and insulted us. I am refusing you service in this bar for the entire evening. Please leave.”

(Customer #2 shoots me a dirty look and storms out. As she does so, a few of the patrons applaud. Customer #1 approaches the bar.)

Customer #1: “If I had known she was going to be that nasty without coffee I would willingly have given up one of mine. Glad I didn’t have to, though!”

(He left a £5 tip!)

(The hotel I work in is round and the outside wall of each room follows the curve of the hotel. Upon request the guest has been given an early check-in. Not 10 minutes later she comes back down to the desk.)

Me: “Good morning again. Is there something else I could help you with?”

Guest: “Yes. I want another room.”

Me: “I’m sorry. Is anything in particular wrong with your current room?”

Guest: “I don’t like the way the room curves… You know?”

Me: “…I’m sorry, ma’am, but every room curves in much the same fashion.”

Guest: “You should get that fixed.”