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Half Cooked For The Half Minded

, , , , | Right | September 12, 2011

Customer: “Excuse me, I’d like half a chicken please.”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, we seem to be out. The next load should be ready in about fifteen to twenty minutes.”

Customer: “But I just want a half, not a whole one!”

Me: “I’m sorry about the wait. As soon as they finish cooking, I will cut you one straight away.”

Customer: “But I just want a half! Can’t you just get one out of the oven now and cut it for me?”

Me: “Um, no. If I took one out early and cut it, it wouldn’t be cooked in the middle.”

Customer: “But I only want a half chicken! It should take less time to cook than a whole one!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I have to wait for them to finish. I promise I will cut you one straight away.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult for me to buy half a chicken!” *storms off*

Time To Pega-sulk

, , , , | Right | July 13, 2012

(A little girl approaches me holding up a book with a unicorn on the cover.)

Little Girl: “I think unicorns are beautiful!”

Me: “They sure are! That looks like a great book for you!”

Little Girl: “I think you’re a unicorn!”

Me: “Aww! Does that mean you think I’m beautiful?”

Little Girl: “No! It means you’re a horse with a big horn on your head!”

Me: “Umm… thank you?”


This story is part of our Unicorn roundup!

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From A Private Booth To A Private Cell

, , , , | Legal | August 17, 2018

(I am the hostess and cashier at a Mexican restaurant. My station at the front is a completely separate room; I cannot see the dining area from the register. Every single staff member, from the owner down to the servers and cooks, is Hispanic. I’m the only Caucasian employee, but since I still have dark hair, dark eyes, and a fairly dark skin tone, people frequently mistake me for Hispanic, as well. A husband and wife walk in during a very busy Friday evening.)

Me: “Good evening! Welcome to [Restaurant]!”

Wife: “We want a booth, please.”

Me: “If a booth is available, that will be no problem.”

Wife: “Fine.”

(I seat the couple. Every booth is taken, so I put them at a table. I go back to the register, and within a few minutes have a long line of people cashing out. Eventually, the couple comes up to the register to pay.)

Me: “Hello! How was everything tonight?”

Wife: “AWFUL!”

Me: “I’m so sorry. What was the problem?”

Husband: “We asked for a booth and you put us at a table!”

Me: “Sir, there were no booths available when I sat y’all; it’s been very busy tonight and a lot of other people also wanted booths. It was just bad timing.”

Husband: “We saw people at booths get up and leave! You should have reseated us! You knew we wanted a booth, and now you’ve ruined our night out!”

Me: “I do apologize but, sir, I cannot see the dining area from here, nor what tables people get up from. If you want a booth that badly, you’d have a better chance at getting one if you came during a less busy time.”

Wife: *shouting at this point* “You b****! We should have expected this of some lazy f****** [Mexican racial slur]!”

(My patience and cheerful manner instantly vanish the moment the slur leaves her mouth. I can deal with swearing, but I have ZERO tolerance for racist crap like this.)

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t care how angry you are. You will not use that kind of language in this establishment!”

Husband: *also shouting* “How dare you speak to my wife like that?! We are God-fearing white folks! We’ll say anything we d*** well please about all you filthy [racial slur]s!” *gestures to me and to the couple of servers who came in to investigate the shouting* “You will give us our food for free right now, b****!”

(By this point I am shaking with rage but still trying to control myself.)

Me: “Sir, first of all, I am not Hispanic; I’m just as Caucasian as you are. But that still gives you no right to use racially abusive language towards anybody! If you think swearing and using racial slurs will get you free food, you are sadly mistaken!”

Husband: “No, you’re not! Don’t you f****** lie to me, you little s***! No respectable white girl hangs around these Mexican monkeys! You’re a f****** lying [racial slur] w****!”

Me: “Sir, after this behavior you are definitely not getting your meal for free. Please pay for your food and leave right now!”

(At this, the wife begins screaming unintelligibly, and the husband suddenly lunges at me, grabs my wrist and a handful of my hair, and attempts to physically haul me over the counter from behind the register, screaming profanities and slurs at me and the entire staff. The owner, who has walked in at this point, steps in with my the rest of the staff to pull the man off me. His wife is still screaming like a banshee and attempting to strike the employees pulling her husband off me. The owner eventually pries him loose and proceeds to inform him that once he and his wife have paid for their meal, they are banned from the restaurant. The couple is adamant that they won’t leave unless they get a free meal, which the owner refuses to do.)

Husband: “And what the f*** is some dirty [racial slur] going to do about it?!”

Voice: *from behind him* “Good evening.”

(The husband screamed and whirled around, fists flying, and VERY narrowly missed hitting the two cops who had just walked in the door and dodged him at the last second. One of the servers, it turned out, had called the police during the altercation. They ended up arresting the couple for assault and battery, and assaulting a police officer after the wife attacked the officers when she saw them putting her husband in handcuffs. All this because they got a table when they wanted a booth.)


This story is part of the Mexican Restaurant roundup!

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Read the Mexican Restaurant roundup!

Prescribing Perspective

| Right | April 16, 2013

Me: “How may I help you, ma’am?”

Customer #1: “I’m picking up a script for [name].”

(I proceed to look it up. However, the system alerts me that we do not have anything ready.)

Me: “I don’t see that we have anything ready for you, ma’am.”

Customer #1: “What do you mean, you don’t have anything! They called two days ago!”

Me: “I apologize, ma’am. If a prescription sits on our shelf for too long, we have to put it back on our stock shelf.”

Customer #1: “It’s only been a week! That’s just stupid! Give me back my script! I’ll go to [rival store]! Only one week! Absurd!”

(I escort her to my co-worker, so that I may help the other customers in line.)

Customer #2: “Oh, honey, I think I may have done the same thing and waited too long; can you check?”

Me: “Certainly, sir.”

(I check, and indeed his was placed back to stock as well.)

Me: “Yes, sir, I’m afraid so.”

(Customer #2 speaks loud enough for everyone to hear.)

Customer #2: “Oh, shoot. IT’S PURELY MY FAULT FOR FORGETTING, EVEN AFTER Y’ALL WERE SO NICE TO CALL ME TWICE. Thank you, sugar; I’ll go talk to [co-worker].”

Blowing A Lid Over A Cichlid

| Right | June 5, 2014

(A customer comes up to me with a 20 gallon tank in her cart.)

Customer: “You got any of those ‘chicklid’ fish?”

Me: “You mean cichlids? Yes, ma’am, we do. Were you looking for a particular species?”

Customer: “D***, I don’t know… How about that one?”

(She points to our tank of juvenile tiger-oscars, a fish that can easily grow to a foot in length. Because of this, we do not allow them to be sold unless the person has or is buying a tank of at least 50 gallons.)

Me: “No problem, ma’am. If you’d like a tiger-oscar, you will have to buy a bigger tank, though, along with a heater and filter. These fish get very large.”

(I quickly explain the final size and tank requirements for the species.)

Customer: “S***! I’m not buying no 50 gallon for a stupid fish!”

Me: *ignoring her comment* “I’d be happy to show you other species that are perfect for the tank you’ve picked out.”

Customer: “No! I need something for my kids to look at TONIGHT! They won’t be able to see no pathetic little guppy! I want that ‘chicklid!'”

(She continues yelling at me to get her the fish while refusing to buy a filter, heater, or even gravel for the tank.)

Me: “Ma’am, I cannot sell you a fish that you’ll be putting into a bare tank of stagnant water.”

Customer: “You can’t deny me a sale! I am a customer and I deserve that fish!”

Me: “My job is to care for these animals first. You are wanting to buy a live animal and that comes with requirements and responsibilities. As I said before, I am more than happy to show you other species that are better suited to your tank size but I will not sell you a tiger-oscar.”

Customer: “I want to see your manager. You’re being mean to me!”

(I got my manager, who promptly agreed with my decision to not sell to her. She then asked to speak to the regional manager who also agreed with us. Furious, she stormed out of our store and vowed to never come back… not that we would have let her.)