Category: Food & Drink

Stupid Customers, like the rest of us have to eat and drink. Sadly like the rest of us, they sometimes eat with the rest of us. For every waiter, server, drive-thru operator, coffee shop barista, and restaurant manager who has had to deal with fake allergies, vegetarians who don’t know the meaning of the word and idiots who have yet to understand the concept of clearly listed ingredients, we salute you!

And To Topping It All Off

| ON, Canada | Bizarre, Food & Drink

(It’s a busy Friday night so four of us are stationed by the phones solely taking phone orders for takeout and deliveries.)

Me: *picks up the phone* “Hi, [Pizzeria]. how can I help you?”

Customer: “I want a 12 slice pizza. One half with meat, one half veggies.”

Me: “Sure, what kind of meat and veggies, sir?”

Customer: “Meat. And. Veggies.”

(We have too many options to list on the phone for both. There’s four lines in use at this moment and probably customers waiting with a busy signal.)

Me: “Yes… but it’s easier to tell us what kind you want, sir.”

Customer: “I. Want. Meat. And. Veggies.”

Me: *notices my coworker on line three has finished with her customer, so I quickly put him on hold* “[Coworker], I’m having trouble figuring out what this guy wants on line two.”

Coworker: *picks up the phone* “Hello?”

(Goes through the ordering process, like I did. I’ve taken five other phone calls about 15 minutes later, and she’s still on the phone with the same customer.)

Coworker: *increasingly annoyed* “Is… that… all, sir? Have a good day.” *hangs up, and then glares at me* “Twice. I went through every topping we have on the menu… I even went through weird requests like pickles and lettuce. Twice. He said the ordering process was too difficult. He just wanted ‘meat and veggies.’ If he calls back… he is YOUR problem!”

(Luckily, he never called back.)

Makes You Want To Scream Cheese

| NC, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Food & Drink

(I’m a cashier in the bakery section of a restaurant, and it’s a part of my job to get the bagels and pastries for people. It’s a pretty normal sort of day when a woman and what appears to be her boyfriend walk in.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get you today?”

Woman: *in a very thick accent* “I can get sess-me bagel?”

Me: “You want a sesame bagel, ma’am?”

Woman: “Yes, two.”

Me: “Two sesame bagels?”

Woman: “Yes. This. And cheese.”

Me: “You would like some cream cheese, ma’am? Just the one plain?”

Woman: “Yes. Cheese and tomato and spinach.”

(Tomato and spinach is a request I haven’t had before, but I know such things on bagels are pretty big in Europe, and I can do it for her, but I feel the need to clarify.)

Me: “You want spinach and tomato on your bagel, ma’am?”

Woman: “Yes! I come here many time. I do this many time!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’ll—”

Woman: “I do this many time!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I understand. I’ll get that right up for you.”

(I head to the kitchen and have a line worker put some spinach and tomato in a to-go bowl and come back up front. I place the cup on the counter and turn to the boyfriend.)

Me: “Did you want anything, sir?”

Man: *in a fairly nice and polite voice* “Yeah, two of the cinnamon raisin bagels and one plain. Sliced and toasted… but only sliced on the plain.”

Me: “Yes, sir. Two cinnamon raisin sliced and toasted, and a plain just sliced. Did you want any cream cheese?”

Man: “Yeah, the cheesecake kind.”

Me: “Got it.”

(At this point, I have to ask the woman if her bagels are sliced and toasted, but she’s kind of scaring me, so I address the question to her boyfriend, who’s about to answer when the woman cuts in.)

Woman: “Yes, toast! I do this many times!”

Me: “Of course, ma’am.” *I make the last few punches on the register* “Anything else?”

Woman: “No! Make this.”

Me: “Of course, ma’am. Right away.”

(I bring up the total and the boyfriend pays as the woman walks away looking rather angry. I get that done and begin work on the bagels. Halfway through toasting them, the woman comes back.)

Woman: “He orders bagel?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, he did.”

Woman: “Put in separate bag from mine.”

Me: “Of course.”

(The woman walks away again and I set back to toasting the bagels. I tuck the man’s in with his cream cheese, the napkins, and a single knife. I take special care with the woman’s, her cream cheese, and the little bowl of tomato and spinach, because I don’t want her to have any reason to complain. When I’m done, the boyfriend is there, and I hand him the bags with a smile. He nods and walks out. I go about my day in relief. Two minutes later, the woman comes back, looking angry, shaking her bag of bagels, and my heart sinks.)

Me: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Woman: “I have no way to spread cream cheese!”

(Now, I know I gave her a knife. I took special care to include everything.)

Me: “There’s a knife in the bag, ma’am.”

Woman: “No… no… How to spread cream cheese while driving?!”

Me: “You… you want me to spread your cream cheese for you?”

(At this point, I’m feeling pretty weak. The woman is all but screaming and I see a few of my fellow employees glancing at me with concern. It’s against policy to spread the cream cheese for a customer, but I’m afraid of what will happen if I refuse.)

Woman: “Yes! I come here many time! I come here many time and never see you! You know nothing!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am.”

(I take the bag and take out all the food to assemble it, veggies, cream cheese, and all.)

Woman: “You know nothing! I tell you to put in separate bag and you don’t do this! I come here many time and I never see you!”

(At this point, I’m trying hard not to cry or begin arguing back, and focus on my task. I peel open the cream cheese when…)

Woman: “Only one cream cheese?”

Me: “Cream cheese costs money and you only ordered one, ma’am.”

Woman: “One cream cheese for two bagel? No! You know nothing!”

Me: “Ma’am—”

Manager: “Is there a problem, ma’am?”

Me: *silently to Manager* “Thank you.”

Woman: “Yes! She know nothing–”

Manager: “Ma’am, we’re not allowed to spread cream cheese for you.”

Woman: “Excuse? I come here many time—”

Manager: “Ma’am, I’d like to ask you to please lower your voice, and we can work this out–”

Woman: “No! No! I come here many time but never again! I never come here again!”

(She begins reaching over the counter, scrambling for her bagels, getting very close to all the pastries.)

Me: “Ma’am–”

Manager: “Ma’am, you can’t reach behind the counter!”

Woman: “I never come here again!”

(And finally, with much screaming, the woman storms out, at which point I thank the manager and go back to work.)

Me: “What can I get you?”

Customer: “Just two cinnamon rolls. Are you all right, sweetheart? I mean, really, some people….”

(And that seemed to be the end of it. I left an hour before closing and had a crazy story to tell people. The next day I came back to work and heard an interesting story from my coworker.)

Coworker: “So, a bit past closing this night, this crazy lady came by. She sounded Russian or something, and she was screaming that she came here all the time and demanded to be let in.”

Me: “What did you do?”

Coworker: “Well, first I told her we were closed, then I told her that I wasn’t allowed to let her in, and after about five minutes I turned on the vacuum and just let her yell…”

Childlike Behavior

, | Perth, WA, Australia | At The Checkout, Family & Kids, Food & Drink

(I work at a fast food restaurant in a large, second floor food court. A child, who can’t be older than five or six, comes up to my counter to order.)

Child: “Hi, can I please have [Menu item]?”

Me: “Sure, anything else today?”

(The child just shakes his head and shyly smiles.)

Me: “Okay, that comes to [price].”

(The child looks at his hand which only has a few silver and gold coins. Putting the money on the counter I realise he doesn’t have enough.)

Me: “Sorry, you’re going to need about [amount] more.”

(The child walks away and I continue to serve as it is busy at lunch time. The child returns with a few more gold and silver coins, and once he reaches the till, I retake his order and he once again places his money on the counter.)

Me: “Yep, that’s enough. It will be ready in a minute.”

(The child once again walks away with his food about a minute later. The line quiets down as I and my coworkers have taken pretty much everyone’s orders, and they are all waiting for their food. A woman in a stained tiger shirt approaches the counter, red faced, the child in tow, and slams her hands on the counter.)

Woman: “Do you not know how to take orders?! My son has walked from our table about 15 times—” *it was twice* “—to make up for your stupidity! He gave you the right change the first time! You just made a mistake and charged us extra! On top of that you didn’t even give us what we ordered!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I double checked the order with your son, and he said it was corr—”

Woman: “I want a receipt and a refund for this terrible service! Where is your manager?!”

(My manager retook the woman’s order, apparently correctly, but as they were walking back to the table the son was complaining “but that’s not what I wanted!” How about we don’t send children to order?)

Doesn’t Even Have A Pint Of Common Sense

| Collegetown, NY, USA | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

(While working in the dairy department in a grocery store in a town that has two major universities, I have this discussion with a student, after getting out of a class myself in which the professor had just raved for an hour about how our university has some of the best and brightest minds in the country. The student is proudly wearing a sweatshirt displaying the university logo and os absolutely beaming with pride.)

Me: “Hi, how are you doing today?”

Customer: *looking rather confused while staring at the dairy case* “I need help. I’m trying to find something”

Me: “Okay, what can I help you find?”

Customer: “Well, I don’t think you carry them, but I’m looking for smaller gallons of milk.”

Me: “You’re right. We don’t carry smaller gallons of milk. Anything smaller than a gallon is no longer a gallon.”

Customer: *utterly bewildered and confused at my comment* “What? I don’t get it…”

Me: “A gallon is a unit of measurement. If you don’t have a full gallon it isn’t a gallon. It’s a half gallon, or a quart, or a pint.”

Customer: “Look, do you have smaller gallons of milk or not?”

Me: “No, we definitely don’t sell smaller gallons of milk.”

Customer: *walks away irritated mumbling something under his breath*

(The store did, of course, carry half gallons, quarts, and pints of milk.)

Everything Is Cool When You’re Part Of A Team

| Canada | Awesome Customers, Awesome Workers, Food & Drink, Movies & TV

(I’m working the counter at a sandwich shop when a customer comes in looking VERY tired.)

Customer: “How big are your five-dollar foot-longs?”

(He looks like a good-natured sort, so I decide to risk joking with him a little to help him wake up.)

Me: “Eleven inches. I’m taking a bite for that question.”

Customer: *laughs* “I suppose I asked for that. How much?”

(Having just the previous night babysat a boy who likes The Lego Movie, my response is almost automatic.)

Me: “That’ll be forty-seven dollars.”

(The customer wears an expression of abject horror for a split-second… and then breaks into a broad grin.)

Customer: “Awesome!”

(With “Everything is Awesome” stuck in my head for the rest of the day, I got the customer his unbitten, normally-priced foot-long.)

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