This Story Tips Both Good And Bad

, , , , , , , , , | Right | May 28, 2020

My husband and I are Australians on holiday in America. My cousin spent about two years working in America as a waitress and has drilled into us the importance of tipping our servers. Even when the service is shockingly bad, including the time they forget to put our order into the system for forty-five minutes, we tip at LEAST 18% because that is what my cousin recommended, and we’re a little stunned that servers work for pennies an hour and rely on tips to survive.

A large amount of staff who notice our accents seem pleasantly surprised when we tip them the proper amount or more. We stop for lunch in a little diner near our hotel and the waitress is AMAZING. She chats with us, asks about Australia and expresses how much she’d love to visit, tells us where to find a specific store I really wanted to visit but haven’t been able find, and is just all-around wonderful.

She is coming over with our refills:

Waitress: “Here we go, guys, here’s your—”

Mid-sentence, a small child who has been running around unchecked for the last half an hour slams into her legs. She drops both our drinks — one all over the kid and one directly into my lap.

The kid’s mother starts SCREECHING at the top of her lungs and demanding to see a manager. The waitress is trying to clean up the kid, apologise, and get us napkins all at once. I clean myself up as best I can and wave her off — I can easily pop back to our hotel to change — so she leaves to get her manager to deal with the screaming mother and her crying child.

She comes back a few minutes later with new drinks for us and is near tears; while her manager had her back, the other woman had said some awful things and her entire party of ten had left her without a tip. She drops off our drinks and we finish them, and she brings back the bill.

Waitress: *Still nearly crying* “I am so sorry about that, guys. I took your refills off the bill; those are on me.”

Feeling bad, my husband is trying to make her laugh.

Husband: “I think you’ll find they were on my wife and that demon kid.”

The waitress, realising we’re just kidding, does crack a smile as she walks off to handle another table. While we were already going to tip her about 25% on our tiny lunch bill — seriously, food is RIDICULOUSLY cheap in the States — for being so wonderful to us, my husband just rifles through his pockets for whatever he has on him in cash and shoves it into the billfold. It adds up to about $60 on our $19 bill, and we try to escape before she sees it as we don’t want her to thank us for it. 

We’re about five steps out the door when she chases us outside.

Waitress: “Wait! You guys, two of these are twenties! I know we joked that you’re used to your rainbow money but you’ve gotta read the numbers. Here!”

She tries to hand us back some of the money and we refuse to take it.

Me: “Honey, no, that’s your tip. You were amazing. Take it.”

The waitress seemed dumbfounded that we had deliberately left her that much, and my husband joked that it was to make up for the gremlin’s parents stiffing her. She legitimately started to cry and asked if she could hug us, which we accepted, and she went back inside.

I’m still stunned that she was honest enough to try and give the tip back to foreigners she thought didn’t understand. We saw her again a few times before we left — the food was incredible at that diner — and she was just as lovely each time. Tip your servers, people!

Small Business And Small-Minded

, , , , | Right | May 28, 2020

My sister-in-law works for a bank. The government has issued out loans to small businesses to help stay afloat during this crisis. She is getting flooded by these small business people who all want money and are very angry to find out that the bank building isn’t stocked with enough money to give out to EVERY small business in the area.

After dealing with angry client after angry client, my sis-in-law finally loses her cool at a particularly rude client.

Sister-In-Law: “Well, ma’am, I’m sorry, but this is my first ever global plague, so we’re bound to get a few things wrong along the way. But the next one I will be ready for. The very next global plague!

An Unrewarding Revelation

, , | Right | May 28, 2020

A customer comes in angrily, holding up our store’s rewards card.

Customer: “Hey, did you know that this doesn’t work at any other store?” 

Me: *Long pause* “Yup.”

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Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 37

, , , | Right | May 28, 2020

It is the time of the PlayStation 2.

Customer: “Yeah, I’m looking for a wireless controller for my PlayStation 2.”

Coworker: “All of our PlayStation 2 controllers are in the clear plastic baggies in the display case right behind you.”

Customer: “But how do I know which ones are wireless?”

Coworker: “Well, um, the wireless ones don’t have a wire coming out of the controller.” 

Customer: “Could you show me?”

Related:
Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 36
Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 35
Wireless, Clueless, Hopeless, Part 34

Not Very Closed-Minded, Part 35

, , , , | Right | May 28, 2020

I work in a chain office supply store’s copy area. About four months ago, our store hours were changed so that the store closes at 7:00 pm, which is earlier than a lot of other branches, and a lot of customers still haven’t gotten used to it. This customer comes in at about 6:45 pm.

Customer: *Jokingly* “I’m going to be your problem for the rest of the night!”

I chuckle a bit nervously.

Me: “Well, the night only lasts about another fifteen minutes.”

Customer: “Oh, well, who’s coming in to pick up the next shift?”

Me: “There is no next shift; the store closes at seven.”

Customer: “I’ve never heard anything like that before! Every other [Store] that I go to closes at, like, nine!”

Me: “Well, some stores had their hours changed back in April, and we were one of those stores.”

The customer shrugs and then tells me he wants to email us some files to print. He sends each file in a separate email, each of which takes several minutes to show up as he hasn’t optimized the files at all and they are quite large. Several are not even formatted correctly for printing, which means more work and poor prints. We aren’t allowed to ask customers to leave the store, even at close, so by the time I get everything printed it’s about 7:20, and he’s the only customer left in the store.

Customer: “Well, that’s the last one! You’re a real pro, huh? How long have you been working here?”

Me: “Um… about two years. And twenty minutes past close.”

He ignores this and proceeds to place every print very carefully in plastic protectors in a binder. This takes another ten minutes. I am exasperated, shooting apologetic looks at my coworkers.

Me: “Your total is [a very small total].”

Customer: “Oh, well, these couple of prints didn’t come out so well, so I’m not paying for them.”

I just want him to leave, so I take the prints — which are poor quality because of his poor files — and give him his new total, which he pays, and he FINALLY leaves the store.

Coworker: “Oh, my god. What did he even want?!”

Me: “Not even $10 worth of prints that he didn’t even size properly.”

The worst part was that this was the night of my Dad’s birthday, and I was over half an hour late for his birthday dinner!

Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 34
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 33
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 32

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