I have some groceries delivered, and in one of the bags, there is a wrapped cold cut platter that I did not order. I immediately call the driver and the company, but they do not want to take it back, even though it is expensive, has its original sealing, and has been kept cold. I am a vegetarian, so I call around to find someone who can use a week’s supply of cold cuts.

Friend: “Do you think we are poor?!”

Me: “Of course not. I just thought you might enjoy some free food. The shelters I called all told me they could not accept food like that. As you have a husband and a young child, you were my first call.”

Friend: “Why do you always have to be so condescending? But okay, I’ll take it off your hands if you bring it over within the hour. Happy now?”

Me: “Sure, I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.”

Two and a half weeks later, I’m attending their child’s birthday party. When the topic of the relatively new online grocery shopping in my city comes up, I mention my experience to another guest, leaving out the timing and the part that I wasn’t the one to keep the platter.

Guest: *Jokingly* “Hey, [Friend], so was the super expensive cold cut platter you have for us tonight the bounty that [My Name] got? It tasted off.”

My friend directs assorted curse words at me.

Friend: “Anything that [My Name] says is a lie! We can afford the best of the best for our guests! I bought these cold cuts just for tonight, and only a week ago at most.”

Friend’s Husband: “Sorry, everyone. I begged her to let me eat the food, but she insisted it would last until tonight.”

Next time, I’m calling the animal shelters, followed by the rest of the phone book.

This story is part of our Best Of October 2020 roundup!

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Read the Best Of October 2020 roundup!

I order a hot chocolate at a popular café. The only other customer in the shop is looking at the displayed sandwiches — there are only a few choices left — when she speaks to the server in a friendly and informative way.

Customer: “Excuse me? I think there is a bug in that sandwich there.”

And would you look at that? There is a single ladybug on top of the last sandwich, probably as confused as us customers as to how it got there. 

The server seems less surprised, taking out the sandwich, looking at it, and then putting it back. 

Server: “Oh!” *Laughs* “That’s there for good luck!”

I’m getting my drink a minute later and still, the ladybug is eating away at its meal. I say, just a little bit louder:

Me: “TOO BAD you have to take care of it. Wouldn’t want to have more luck because of that ladybug, hm?”

He tried to hide it, but he gave me this, “Ugh, customers,” look and finally removed it from the case.

I don’t know the standard way to deal with this, but I wouldn’t want to see him remove bugs and then put it back into the case. 

If the next customer doesn’t know, is there a problem? I was taught not to waste food but… First world problems? What do you guys think?

While studying for three years, I try to “earn a few coins” between semesters via small job opportunities. One of these jobs is supposed to be helping at a public swimming pool: getting out food to customers at the shop, helping to keep the area clean, etc.

Arriving at the entrance, I can see that the place looks… run-down. It isn’t filthy or dirty, just old and boring. Despite the appearance of the surroundings, the other three workers I meet up with look quite happy and are all around a friendly bunch.

And then, the manager enters the stage.

Our “workwear” is supposed to be orange and yellow, with only the colors being a necessity; as long as you get the colors correct, you can wear orange shorts, a yellow shirt, vice versa, and so on.

The woman appears in orange high heels, a plain, yellow dress… and an orange bra ON TOP of the dress. The swimming pool and its surroundings have a tang of grey and boring colors to them, so she stands out like a supernova — an icy, mind-melting supernova, which I would probably prefer in itself, just for the situation to be over as soon as possible.

The smiles of my coworkers turn upside down and her stare feels like a cold wind down my neck. She looks at me, smiles — or attempts to — and shows me around. After a brief introduction:

Manager: “So, since you wrote that you worked at a cafe before, why not show me how to mix a piña colada?”

Me: *Dumbstruck* “Yes, I worked at a coffee shop where I served coffee, snacks, and ice cream.”

She gives me a look as if debating whether I am worth the effort to be put into a meat grinder, and even then worth feeding to the homeless. Luckily, I think she decides against ending me right then and there.

Manager: “Aaaaaall right. You’ll be restocking wares and keeping the area clean for today. I’ll let you know if we need further assistance.”

Translation: “Please get out of my sight since you talked back to me.”

After I spend two hours standing around restocked fridges and freezers, she sends me home with a frown and says that she’ll keep in touch for further instructions.

As I am leaving, I see her berating one of the other workers, who already looks like she’s on the verge of tears.

Manager: “…and be sure to offer every guest a glass of wine. Better if they buy the whole bottle. I can’t believe how many we have left.”

In her defense, she did pay me for the two hours I worked there. But without further messages from her, I had the feeling that I barely escaped with my life.

After a few months of wearing masks, my workplace switched to “face shields” — plastic shields covering the face, strapped onto a band or nose clip — to reduce stress on our part while still fulfilling company (and other) rules.

Since temperatures started to rise again, a coworker of mine brought fresh ice cream on cones from a shop directly next to ours for us to enjoy. 

Remember the face shields? I surely forgot, only reminded after I licked the inside of the screen and squished the ice cream on the other side of it.

I’m working at a popular restaurant in town. I’ve been there for about two years and never encountered someone as rude as this. A family with three kids come in about fifteen minutes before we close. I’m tired after a long shift so I’m a little more sensitive than usual. The family orders their food and I’m about to put their transaction through when the father decides he wants a beer. 

Customer: “Yeah, can I get a [Beer Brand we don’t carry].”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we actually don’t have that particular brand, but if you look at our drinks list, you can see what we have available.”

Customer: “F****** useless.”

I am a bit taken back at this because I don’t feel anything unreasonable has taken place, but I stay quiet. I put through a different drink for him and he begins to use his card to pay. He doesn’t hold it down long enough for PayWave to read his card, so I have to ask him to tap it several times.

Customer: “B****, you’d better not have charged me three f****** times.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m sure you won’t have been charged multiple times.”

Customer: “Worthless c*** of a waitress.”

I’m quite upset at this point, so I decide to show the family to a table as quickly as I can. I get their things together and move to seat them. My manager comes out and asks that I seat them at a different table. All of a sudden, the patron goes off and begins screaming. 

Customer: “This is f****** bulls***. Let her sit us at the f****** table she was taking us to instead of wasting our f****** time, you fat c***!”

My manager apologised and the man snatched their cups and cutlery off of me and stormed off to their own table, his wife and children in tow. I was very shaken and upset from this encounter, so I headed out the back and broke down in tears. I don’t understand how people can be so rude, especially in front of young children!