They’re A Few Chocolate Chips Short Of A Cookie

, , , | Right | September 25, 2020

I’m working in a cookie shop.

Customer: “Hello. I’d like two cookies, please.”

Me: “Sure thing. What kind?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “Chocolate chip, double chocolate chip, plain, macadamia.”

Customer: “Oh, no, just two cookies.”

Me: “Yes, but what kind?”

Customer: “Warmed.”

I hold up two chocolate chip cookies.

Me: “Is this okay?”

The customer just stared blankly, so I put them in the toaster. The customer seemed happy with it; she didn’t complain as far as I could see. It wasn’t like she was a foreigner who didn’t know English or something, either; she had a thick Boston accent.

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11 Incredibly Ironic Encounters With Customers

| Right | September 25, 2020

Dear readers,

Despite Alanis Morissette’s attempts to do otherwise, most of us recognize moments of irony. We appreciate them for their sometimes-comedic and often-memorable nature, even if the outcome isn’t truly desirable.

However, the customers in the next eleven stories serve up their huge helpings of irony with an equally large portion of ignorance, totally oblivious to the unexpected twists they caused! We hope you enjoy them as much as we did!

 

When Coffee Tastes Are Too Well Grounded, Part 2 – Indonesia would like to know when it became a state?

Likely To Cause IRE (Ironic Resourceful Ethics) – We really hope this happened before the student started a single class!

Dim Witted And Off The Deep End, Part 3 – Lifeguards learning how to guard lives is inconvenient to non-drowning swimmers.

(more…)

No Patience For Bigots

, , , | Working | September 25, 2020

My friend and I — both women — decide to have a day out shopping while her husband takes their daughter for the day. It’s our first venture out without her daughter, so we decide to go to a locally-owned restaurant. It’s a small area, and I work in a very busy convenience store. At least half the town knows me, including the owner of the restaurant, which is why we decide to try it out.

We’re sat by the hostess and given menus. It’s not a busy section, but it’s not empty, either. The waiter comes out to take our drink orders, and he looks upset by something. I don’t think anything of it and go back to looking at the menu.

Neither of us notices at first because we’re chatting and trying to decide what to get, but after a while, I begin to realize he hasn’t come back to take our orders. He’s not even come back to give us our drinks. We look around and see people who we know were seated after us already eating. We really don’t understand, and I’m pretty confused by it.

I go to find our waiter or a hostess, but instead, I see the owner coming in. He recognizes me at once.

Owner: “Oh, hey there! You’re the [Convenience Store] girl! How are you enjoying it? I told you it’s good, didn’t I?”

Me: “Uh… I wouldn’t know. Did something happen to our waiter? Did he get sick or something?”

Owner: “What do you mean?”

Me: “We haven’t even gotten our drinks yet. We’ve sat for like… ten minutes? Fifteen? He took our orders, looked mad at something, and then hasn’t been back. There are people around us already eating who were sat after us.”

Owner: “What? I’ll go see what’s wrong.”

I go back to the table, where our drinks still haven’t appeared. She’s getting angry and I’m still wondering what’s going on. Shortly after, the owner shows up to take our orders, bring us our drinks, and bring the bill. He’s also the one to take the payment.

Me: “So, what happened? Did he get sick or something?”

Owner: “Don’t worry about it; we’ve got it taken care of. You both have a nice night, and I hope this didn’t ruin your date!”

That’s when we realized that the waiter was refusing to wait on us because he thought my friend and I were lesbians on a date. At least I got a good laugh out of it after. I still haven’t gone back, though.

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She’s Allergic To Calming The F*** Down

, , , | Right | September 25, 2020

My boss owns several popular sandwich franchise stores. He recently decided to buy a store from an owner being kicked out of the franchise. As a result of the forced sale, the former owner gave up on customer service, fired all his staff, and left the restaurant an absolute mess for us to deal with.

On our first day there, I get in early to clean and organize. We have been open for thirty minutes when a car screeches up to our storefront and an angry lady comes stomping inside, brandishing one of our sandwiches. 

Angry Lady: “I’d like to speak to your manager!”

Me: “I’m the manager, ma’am. How can I help you?”

Angry Lady: “My husband came in an hour ago to pick up my lunch. He asked for no mustard! I’m allergic to mustard!”

She slams the sub on the counter and opens it to reveal the bright yellow mustard coating the sub. 

Me: “I’m terribly sorry for the mistake, ma’am. I’m glad you noticed before you bit into it. May I have your receipt so I can refund you? Then I’ll remake your food with no mustard.”

Angry Lady: “I don’t have the receipt. I told you. My husband bought it for me an hour ago.”

Me: “That’s okay, ma’am. We haven’t been open long and have only had a few customers. I can look it up manually.”

I check the transactions from that day. No one has purchased a ham sandwich that day. Because we just bought the store, the computer displays only today’s transactions, as the previous transactions were on the old owner’s account. Any refunds must be made from him, not us.

Me: “Ma’am, is it possible your husband purchased this yesterday? I’m not seeing any sales today that match your order.”

Angry Lady:No! He bought it today! An hour ago!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. We haven’t been open more than a half an hour. Are you sure it was from this location?”

Angry Lady:Yes! It was here! We only come here! I don’t know why we keep coming back. You people always mess up our orders and give us such terrible service!”

She is already yelling very loudly; the customers in the lobby are beginning to stare and my coworker has poked his head out of the kitchen to see what’s going on. I’m a bit hurt that the blame of the old staff and owner is being put on me, but I’m determined not to let it show. 

Me: “I’m sorry you had a bad experience with this location before. We are under new management, as of today; and I will do my best to fix—”

Angry Lady: “You had better give me my money back!”

Me: “I will do my best, ma’am. If your husband bought this yesterday, I cannot refund—”

Angry Lady: *Screaming* “It wasn’t yesterday. It was today! Refund! Right now!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but no one has made a purchase today that matches your order, especially no orders with food allergy requests. The best I can do is put you in touch with the old owner, in case the order was on his account yesterday. I will make you a new sub right now, free of charge, for your trouble.”

I start making a sub identical to the one she returned, minus the mustard. I just want her gone. She starts pacing the counter and angrily muttering. 

Angry Lady: “I can’t believe you won’t refund me! I could have died! If I hadn’t noticed the mustard, I would be on my way to the hospital right now!”

Me: “As I said, ma’am, no one has purchased a ham sandwich today. I can’t refund what we haven’t charged you. And I am replacing your sandwich for free.”

She slams her hand against the glass and screams.

Angry Lady: “THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! You are just the rudest little s***! I want to speak to your store owner! I’m going to get you fired! Every time I come in here, you give me attitude. And now you don’t want to refund me after you almost poisoned me!

Me: “Ma’am, I’ve never met you before! We just—”

Angry Lady: “I make my husband come in for me now, because I don’t want to deal with you! And he’s told me you’re always rude to him, too. You’re not getting away with it this time! I’m gonna get you f****** fired! And I’m going to sue you for trying to kill me by poisoning my sandwich with mustard! I bet you did it on purpose!”

She is literally screaming at the top of her lungs. I was angry before, but now, I lose it. I slam her half-finished sandwich onto the counter. 

Me: “Listen, lady! I have never seen you before. This is my first day here! We just bought the store! I don’t know who you are, or why you are so rude. I am doing my best to try to help you, but you are blaming me for things that I have not done! You need to get out of my store right now!”

Angry Lady:Liar! I know your face! You deal with us all the time! I bet you recognized my husband and intentionally put mustard on my food because you knew I was allergic!”

Me: “Lady, we make the subs right in front of you! How could I put mustard on it without your husband noticing?! Get out of my store!”

She begins a string of profanities about how terrible we are and how we all want her dead by poisoning her. She even accuses the kitchen staff of hiding mustard on the ham before we put it in the sub to trick her husband. 

Me: “Lady, if you’re as rude to your husband as you’ve just been to me, I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked for the mustard on your sandwich himself!

The angry lady stopped, sputtered, and then turned and stomped out the door. When I told my boss about it later, he almost died laughing and told me not to worry about her. We never heard from her or her husband again.

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The Only Driving She’s Doing Is Her Family Crazy

, , , , , | Related | September 25, 2020

My grandma manages to hurt her back; I’m not sure exactly what she did but the end result is a laminectomy. Before she agrees to surgery, she tries trying to manage things with drugs. Because she is on painkillers, I am living with her to handle most of the big things like driving — for errands and taking her to and from work — etc.

I’ve just lost my job when things happen, which is why it is easier for me to drop things to go live with her, but after being with her for a few weeks, I get hired on at a new place. When I get the notification for the interview, I explain the situation and they are willing to work around things to a point, and my mom says that she’ll be willing to switch off with me since it is the summer and her job is off for the season, so she’ll be there when I’m not.

I end up getting the job and my grandmother decides that it is a good time for her to stop taking her meds. I walk into the office and hear this:

Customer: “Well, [Grandma], how’re you doing with things?”

Grandma: “My back is still a little stiff. But my granddaughter got a job, so I haven’t had a pain killer in almost twelve hours and I feel great!”

It is only like six, maybe seven hours since I know she took a pill. I don’t say anything to her because she has this annoying habit of automatically dismissing anything I say, but I go back outside and call my mom.

Mom: “Hey, how’s it going?”

Me: “Do you know what your mother’s trying to do?”

My mom heaves a heavy sigh because she knows it’s not good.

Mom: “What?”

Me: “She’s apparently decided that because I’ve gotten a job, she needs to no longer take her meds. She can’t turn her neck and she still can’t move all that fast, but apparently, she thinks she’s going to be driving sometime soon. We told her the plan, didn’t we?”

Mom: “We did. All right, don’t say anything; I’ll take care of it.”

We end the call and I wander back inside. The customer leaves and I settle into the chair I’ve been using. I’m reading my book when my grandma’s phone rings and she puts it on speaker.

Grandma: “Hey, [Mom], are you excited that [My Name] got a job?”

Mom: “I’m always excited when new opportunities pop up for her. Are you still taking your medication?”

Grandma: “Well, I stopped. I need to be able to drive myself since [My Name] will be at work.”

Mom: “Did you check with your doctor before you stopped taking your medications?”

Grandma: “I just stopped. It’ll be fine; I’ll try and drive tomorrow.”

Mom: “No, you will not!”

Grandma: “But—”

Mom: “No. You can’t turn your head without turning the upper half of your body and that’s too slow to react in driving situations. You have not been told to stop your meds and you don’t need to. [My Name] and I already discussed this and we talked to you about it; when she starts working, we’ll switch off so I’ll come stay while she’s at work, and then she’ll be there the rest of the time.”

Grandma: “But you guys just moved and you need to set up your house.”

Mom: “Half of our stuff is still in a storage pod that’s not going to be delivered for at least two weeks. And we don’t have to unpack everything immediately.”

Grandma: “Well, but [My Name]

Mom: “[My Name] can make her own decisions and we’ve already discussed this. You do not get to go making your own medical decisions and taking yourself off medications.”

Grandma: “I know what I’m doing. I was a nurse.”

Mom: “Thirty years ago!”

Grandma: “But—”

Mom: “No, Mom. You are not making adult decisions here. You need to take your medication and stop going cold turkey. Your doctor prescribed them for a reason. [My Name] is still able to drive, and she and I have worked things out. I know you want to drive, but that’s not possible right now.”

Grandma: *Heavy sigh* “Fine.”

Mom: “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

Grandma: “Bye.” *Hangs up and turns to me* “Did you say something?”

Me: “Me? Nope”

She only works a half-day normally, so things finish and we get in the car to head to lunch.

Grandma: “You know, my back is bothering me, so I’m going to take a pill. I’m proud of myself for making it more than twelve hours, though.”

I didn’t bother pointing out that it was still only like nine hours, if that. My mom and I managed to juggle the rest of the summer, and just before schools started back up in September, my grandma went through with the surgery. Luckily, she was able to drive just fine afterward… at least until the stroke, but that’s a story for another time.

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