Nothing But Air Between His Bun

, | Hertfordshire, England, UK | Right | December 12, 2013

(I work in a burger restaurant. We’ve just started a new promotion with two new burgers.)

Me: “Hi there. Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, umm… Can I try your new burger?”

Me: “Sure. Is that the cheddar burger or the Mediterranean chicken burger?”

Customer: “Uh… what’s the difference?”

Me: “The cheddar burger is a beef burger with cheddar cheese, while the Mediterranean is a chicken burger with peppers and salsa.”

Customer: “I… I don’t know?”

Me: “This one…” *points to picture* “…is our new beef burger, and this one…” *points to another picture* “…is our new chicken burger.”

Customer: “Oh right! So, can I get the new one?”

Me: “Chicken or beef, sir?”

Customer: “Uh… chicken? I guess?

Me: “So, just to check you want the Mediterranean chicken burger? This burger here?”

Customer: “I think so.”

Me: “Okay. Anything else for you?”

Customer: “So, what have I ordered?”

Me: “This burger here, sir.” *points to picture again* “The Mediterranean chicken burger.”

Customer: “Wait, what’s in it?”

Me: “Crispy chicken, peppers, lettuce, salsa and mayo. Is that okay?”

Customer: “Yeah, sounds good!”

(I hand the customer his meal and he walks off. He’s back about 10 minutes later, with half of the burger.)

Customer: “Erm, this isn’t what I ordered.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I thought you wanted the Mediterranean chicken?”

Customer: “No. I wanted the new burger. That one!” *points at cheddar burger picture*

Me: “Oh, right… Okay. I’ll just get that for you. Have you already eaten half of the chicken burger?”

Customer: “Yeah, sorry! I didn’t realise until now that it wasn’t the beef one.”

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And The Father Of Despair Is On Aisle Three

| MT, USA | Right | December 12, 2013

(I am doing a return for a customer. She is getting money back for it. I have to get a manager to come up to open the register. To do so, I call over our walkie-talkies.)

Me: “Can I get an M.O.D to customer service?”

Customer: “M.O.D?”

Me: “Oh, M.O.D just means ‘manager on duty.'”

Customer: “Oh! I thought it stood for ‘Mother of Destruction!’”

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He Has The Floor Model But His Wife Has The Floor

| Allentown, PA, USA | Right | December 12, 2013

(My fair-trade, non-profit store is rather on the small side. We have no stockroom, meaning that all of our available merchandise is on the sales floor. One night I am working alone when new customers come in. The wife is very pleasant, but the husband decides that he’s going to do everything in his power to mess with me. After about twenty minutes of his questioning my store’s mission, whether we really qualify as a non-profit, and why he should care about the people who make the products we sell, he and his wife decide on a silk lamp. We have only one available.)

Customer: “How much is the lamp?”

Me: “That is [price].”

Customer: “I mean after my discount. You’re going to give me a discount because I’m buying the floor model.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t have a back room. Everything we sell is the ‘floor model.’ It’s going to be [price].”

Customer: “Oh, come on! You gotta give me some kind of discount!”

Customer’s Wife: “Honey, stop talking before I tell her to add on a bonus charge for having to put up with you.”

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Solving A Thorny Issue

| MO, USA | Right | December 12, 2013

(A phone call comes in at work.)

Me: “This is the electronics department. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I need this movie for my nephew! It’s all he wants.”

Me: “Okay, which movie is it?”

Caller:Game of Thorns! Number two!”

Me: “Oh, Game of Thrones, maybe? The second season?”

Caller: “NO! Game of THORNS! NUMBER two!”

Me: “I don’t believe there’s a movie called Game of Thorns. I do have the second season of Game of Thrones, though.”

Caller: *very angry now* “It’s Game of Thorns! Thorns! T-H-R-O—” *mumbles* “Thooorns… thrrrones?” *very quietly* “Game of Thrones…”

Me: “…”

Caller: “Yeah. You got that?”

Me: “Yes. We have several copies of Game of Thrones. Seasons one and two.”

(The caller hangs up.)

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Poorly Perceived

| NY, USA | Right | December 12, 2013

(I work at a restaurant in a very rich town, in which I also live. I am getting my hair done at a ‘posh’ salon when I see one of my regulars from the restaurant sitting in the first chair.)

Me: “Hello Mrs. [Name]. Good to see you.”

Customer: “Oh hel— aren’t you my waitress from the place down the road?”

Me: “Yes, I am. How are you doing today?”

Customer: “I didn’t know people like you were allowed in a place like this.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

(At this point my stylist comes over to bring me to her station.)

Customer: *to stylist* “Honey, did you know this girl is a waitress? Are you sure she has enough money to pay? You may want to check before you start serving her.”

Stylist: “Ma’am, [My Name] has been a client here for two years. She’s very reliable.”

Customer: “Oh my. What a waste of money. Poor girls like you should not be wasting their money on things like this. Don’t you have a child to care for or something of the like?”

(At this point everyone in the salon is quite uncomfortable and is staring at the three of us.)

Me: “I’m so sorry Mrs. [Name]. I actually only work at the restaurant because I don’t like to spend my time being unproductive. You see, I am a college student at [very prestigious college]. I am currently studying to be a biomedical engineer, which I’ll have you know is the second top grossing career currently. And since it seems to matter to you so much, I’m quite financially comfortable! And even if I were a poor waitress, as you so kindly suggested, people are free to do whatever they like with the money they work so hard for! Your husband comes in twice a week to get coffee and sit at our counter and complain about you! So really, Mrs. [Name], I’m very, very sorry for you.”

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