(It is the late 90s. It is the time of the Beanie Baby rush, and the latest kids’ meal toys are mini Beanie Babies. They are in such huge demand people will buy the meals and leave the meals behind, taking only the toy. It’s the night shift, ten minutes to close, and there are no Beanie Babies left except for two that got torn open and can’t be sold. A tired-looking customer steps up to order.)

Customer: “I guess it’s bad to ask if there are any kids’ meals left, huh?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Customer: “Been a rough day, hasn’t it?”

Me: “Oooohh yeah.”

Customer: “I’d like a kids’ meal, but the meal, not the toy. My daughter’s been sick with scarlet fever and is only just now well enough to eat food, and she wants your kids’ meal.”

Me: “Did she want the toy too?”

Customer: “Kind of, but she wants the food too.”

(I reach under the counter to where we are keeping the two already opened Beanie Babies.)

Me: “We actually have two left, but they’re opened so we can’t sell them. Does your daughter want a bear or a lion?”

Customer: “Oh, wow, thank you so much! This will mean so much to her!”

Me: “I have a daughter too and was planning on bringing the ones we couldn’t legally sell to her, but your daughter should get one too.”

(The customer takes the lion, and my daughter still has the bear nearly fifteen years later!)

Related:
Making A Meal Out Of It, Part 2
Making A Meal Out Of It

(I’m working front counter, when a group of people walk in. They look at the breakfast menu for a while, and then one of them walks up to me.)

Customer: “Yeah, do you have anything else apart from the breakfast?”

Me: “Yes, we have both menus open at the moment.”

Customer: “Oh, great. Your menu’s just a bit MUFFIN MUFFIN MUFFIN MUFFIN for me.”

Me: “Well, if you look on the side there, you’ll see our main menu is all BURGER BURGER BURGER BURGER.”

Customer: “Oh, thanks.”

(The customer looks, and orders perfectly normally. I turn to see my coworker looking at me strangely.)

Coworker: “You just did that as if it made perfect sense.”

(My dad and I are out to dinner at a pub, where we have one waitress for ordering while other people bring the food. We order two burgers. Almost 40 minutes go by.)

Dad: “Look, we should get our waitress.”

Me: “Yeah, this is taking way too long.”

(Our main waitress comes by, and we don’t even have to say anything; she stares at our table in shock.)

Waitress: “They haven’t brought you your food yet? That’s ridiculous. I’ll go talk to the cooks.”

(She leaves and comes back with a long-suffering look on her face.)

Waitress: “So, you’re not going to believe this. Apparently they messed up the order of another table, and since their order was similar to yours, they went ahead and gave that table your food.”

Me: “What? Are you serious?”

Waitress: “Right? I handed them your ticket, and they just laughed. So I told them, ‘This isn’t funny. They’ve been sitting there for a long time waiting for just two burgers.’ So hopefully they will bring out your food soon. I’m going to get you guys a discount.”

(The burgers finally arrive, and are quite delicious. The waitress returns with our check.)

Waitress: “So they finally came!”

Me: “Yeah, they were really good. Thanks.”

Waitress: “Yeah, except the timing. So I got you $10 off. He almost only gave you $5 off, but I said, ‘Dude, no way. Take off more.'”

Me: “Dad, please give her an amazing tip.”

(I work at a high end clothing store that’s having a massive sale. Even with all five checkouts open, the line of customers is still nearly 30 people long. I’m working on restocking some shirts when I see a pair of young girl customers cut to the front of the line directly in front of another customer.)

Customer: “Ladies, I’m sorry, but there is a line.”

Girl #1: “Man, why do you care if we cut? It’s just one purchase; you can stand to wait a few more minutes.”

Customer: “That wouldn’t be fair to the people behind me. Please go to the back of the line.”

Girl #2: “F*** you! You little punk-a**! If my girl wants to cut in front of you, then you can’t stop her.”

(Sighing, the customer calls to one of my coworkers.)

Customer: “Can you please escort these ladies to the back of the line?”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ladies, but you do have to move to the back, and I’m going to have to ask you to tone down your language.”

Girl #1: “Man, f*** this! This b****-a** just don’t want to help me.”

(Both of them turn back to the customer.)

Girl #1: “This is all your fault you gay mother-f*****!”

(At this, both girls swing at the customer, punching him in the face and neck.)

Customer: *wincing* “Well, that would probably count as battery, and maybe even assault. Are there any more crimes you want to commit before you get kicked out?”

Girl #2: “Oh, big f****** man, hiding behind some b****-a** cops because you’re scared to fight.”

(Girl #2 punches the customer in the face again, only to be sent flying about five feet from a single palm thrust to the stomach from the man. The two girls end up calling the police to report the customer for attacking them. Unfortunately for them, our store cameras are quite good, and pick up the entire preceding conversation and their initial assault. The police officer even offers to arrest the girls for attacking the customer. Luckily for them, he decides it is too much trouble dealing with them.)

(My boyfriend and I are picking up some groceries for his apartment. We see one of his friends and he decides to stop and chat. We stand there talking for about fifteen minutes and by this time I am hungry. To signal him that I want to leave, I put my hand in his back pocket.)

Customer: “You should be ashamed.”

(My boyfriend and I turn to see an older woman scowling at us.)

Boyfriend: “All she did was put her hand in my pocket so I would shut up so that we can leave.”

Customer: “She’s your sister, and you should be ashamed!”

Me: “He’s not my brother; he’s my boyfriend.”

Customer: “Don’t lie! I can see the resemblance! You shouldn’t grab your brother that way! It’s disgusting!”

Boyfriend: “Look, lady, we are not related. Go bother someone else with your crazy.”

Customer: “I am not crazy!”

(The customer approaches my boyfriend’s friend.)

Customer: “They’re siblings, aren’t they!?”

Boyfriend’s Friend: “If that’s true, it’s news to me and I’ve known [boyfriend] for quite a long time. As far as I know, he only has one sister and she is much younger.”

Customer: “LIES! YOU’RE ALL LIARS!” *runs off*