Even The Pizza Left You

, , , , , , | Right | April 17, 2019

(My husband and I order pizza, then go to pick it up. They don’t have a dine-in area, but there are four chairs lined up along the window. An elderly man is using one of the chairs, so I make my husband take one of the other chairs, and my children refuse to share the chairs. After about twenty minutes of waiting while the children are entertained with their own electronics, and my husband is zoned out on his phone, this happens:)

Elderly Man: *to my husband* “You’re so rude!”

Husband: “What?”

Me: “What? How so?”

Elderly Man: “Making her stand like that! That’s totally rude of you!”

Me: “I told him he should sit down, since my legs need to stretch, and the pressure changes have been aggravating his arthritis. I’ve been glued to a computer in a small office all day.”

Elderly Man: “Well, okay, then, that’s… Sorry. I just assumed there.”

Me: “That’s okay, yeah. I hope we don’t meet anyone who is actually rude tonight! It’s been about fifteen minutes since we got here, but I understand the wait, since we ordered several specific pizzas, and it’s a busy football night.”

Cashier: *listening in, says quietly* “Oh, thank God.”

(I was exaggerating downward; it has been at least twenty minutes. The cashier goes to confer with her manager, and the manager comes over to apologize for the wait. The kids and my husband don’t mind — they’ve got their games — but I’m thirsty, so I accept her offer of free drinks for the family. She offers the elderly gentleman a discount on his pizza, and a drink for his lengthier wait. And then, about five minutes later, another customer comes in.)

Rude Dude: *walks to counter* “I’ve been waiting 45 minutes now! I need my pizza immediately!”

Cashier: “Yes, sir, what is the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “Forty-five minutes! I’ve been waiting!”

Cashier: “And the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “I’VE BEEN WAIIIITIIIING 45 MINUTES!”

(This repeats at least another half dozen times, with him saying the same thing in different combinations, and the cashier offering the same question in a super sweet saccharine voice. I’m getting hangry at this point, and he’s the nearest annoyance, soooo…)

Me: “Forty-five minutes, huh? Everybody here has clearly gotten that information. But, the one thing she needs is your f****** name. So, either tell the nice lady your name, or go f*** off, and wait at least another hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *gives his name and glares at the cashier*

Cashier: “Oh! Your order went out through the drive-thru five minutes ago! Have a nice night!” *turns back to the kitchen to retrieve the elderly man’s order*

Rude Dude: *screams incoherently, throws a plastic organizer full of salt, peppers, and parmesan packets into the kitchen area, and slams himself into a chair to sulk*

Elderly Man: *on his way to picking up his order, stops to address the rude dude* “Your order isn’t here, so you probably shouldn’t be, either. Now, go see if your pizza’s at home, and if it is not, do as the lady has requested. Go f*** off and wait at least an hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *literally growls, then leaves*

Cashier: “Sir, that is awesome. Your order is on us tonight, and we’re so sorry for such a long wait.”

(She calls my husband’s name about five or so minutes later, and we find that they have given us an extra deep-dish pizza, a dessert, and a couple of other items that we used to order on a weekly basis, but no longer do due to household size and budget changes.)

Cashier: “Your tot—“

Manager: “Nope! No. Noooo. F*** that. This is all on us. Y’all are longtime customers, and this is the longest you guys have ever waited, and we really appreciate your patience. And you telling that guy to f*** off.”

Cashier: “Yeah! Sweet! And yeah, thanks for telling the guy to f*** off.”

Husband: *is confused*

Me: “You’re welcome. I can’t stand people that obtuse.” *laughs* “The fact that the elderly man repeated it, though… That made my week.”

Husband: “So… wait… what? We’re good here?”

Me: “Yes, I’m coming back later this week with the kids, too.”

Cashier: “[Husband], you were playing on your phone. [My Name] will explain it when y’all get home, okay?”

(When we got home, my in-laws came over unexpectedly, but thanks to the generosity of the pizzeria staff, we had enough pizza for everyone. I told everyone how we got all the pizza for free, the kids reiterated how super rude the dude was, and my husband joked that I could hire myself out as an expert snarker while I continued job hunting.)

Entree-Level Honesty

, , , , | Hopeless | April 5, 2019

I’m pretty strapped for cash, but I am out running errands and really want to have lunch at a new favorite spot that is having a “buy-one-get-one-free” deal on their entrees. I get there on the last day of the deal and place my order, but I realize the cashier forgot the deal when he tells me my total, so I gently remind him. He re-rings my order, but he doesn’t tell me my new total.

I take my receipt, get my drink, and sit down to wait for my meal; I plan on having the second entree for dinner. Halfway through eating, I decide to check my receipt, just to see which entree was taken off, and am surprised to see that both entrees were deducted, and I was only charged for my drinks and a few extras.

I’m not going to lie; I am sorely tempted to not mention it, seeing as I am super broke, but as a longtime reader of NAR, I don’t want to be that customer. Besides, I’d hate to see the cashier get in trouble later for entering the order wrong.

So, when I’m ready to leave, I approach the cashier — off to the side, so as not to alert his manager — and quietly show him my receipt, explaining I’ll be more than happy to pay for the incorrectly-deducted entree. To my surprise, he alerts his manager and explains what happened. I make sure to point out that I do not want the cashier to be penalized in any way, and that I am ready to make good on the balance, but the manager doesn’t seem to mind. She says, “Don’t worry about it; today was your lucky day!”

I’m really grateful to both of them for cutting me a break and not making me pay for the extra entree. I think the employees were surprised I actually made them aware of the error and offered to pay, but I know “what goes around, comes around,” and had I snuck out without mentioning it, it would have come back to haunt me later. Honesty sometimes really is the best policy!

Light Of Jesus Is Light Comedy

, , , , , , , | Right | March 27, 2019

(An older woman comes in the store with a girl who I assume is her granddaughter and buys some phone accessories. I tell her the total and she begins to dig around in her purse for her wallet.)

Grandmother: *pulls out a flashlight and shines it at her granddaughter* “IT’S THE LIGHT OF JESUS!”

Granddaughter: *looks embarrassed and shoves the flashlight away*

(She finds her wallet and pays, and then I bag her items and hand them to her.)

Me: “Have a nice day!”

Grandmother: “Baby, you just have a blessed day. The world will try to get you down but just know that it’s all in here.” *puts her fist over her heart* “Your soul. It’s all in your soul. Just remember that.”

Me: “Thank you, ma’am.”

Granddaughter: *quickly ushers the woman out the door*

(As soon as they left my coworker and I burst out laughing. Thank you, “Encouragement Lady,” for brightening our busy afternoon!)

No ID-ea Why They’re All So Upset

, , , , | Right | March 22, 2019

(There’s a really delicious Mexican place that sells just chicken as the main protein. I’ve been going there for years and while I’m not the type of person to make friends with the staff, as I’m a bit shy, I recognize most of them and they’ve always been very nice and accommodating to me. This happens as I get a chicken burrito after a long day of classes with nothing in my belly. I notice that they’ve revamped the store a bit: new menus, fixed signs, etc. but I don’t think too much about it.)

Me: “One chicken burrito, please, with hot salsa.”

Cashier: “Will that be all, ma’am?”

Me: “Yes.”

Cashier: “Okay, your total will be [total].”

Me: *hands over card*

Cashier: *suddenly looking very nervous* “Oh. Well, you see, we have a new manager. He changed some things.”

Me: “Oh? I did notice a few changes around here.” *looks up toward the signs*

Cashier: *still looking nervous* “Yeah. Well, his new policy is that you have to show ID whenever you pay with a card. Sorry.” *cringes*

Me: “Really? That’s weird. But it’s cool. I have that.” *reaches to take out ID*

Cashier: “Really?”

Me: “Huh?”

Cashier: “Most people have been complaining about it.”

Me: “That’s dumb. I would think most people would keep at least their driver’s license on them or something. I’ve got that and a regular one. It’s how I get into bars.” *I laugh*

Cashier: *laughs, too*

(I wait and get my food then realize I forgot to order an extra salsa but luckily had the 60 cents to pay for it.)

Me: “Hi— I’m so sorry, miss, but can I get another hot salsa? The 60 cent one?” *I hold out my money*

Cashier: *smiles* “Oh, just take one.” *hands me one* “Have a good day!”

Me: “Thank you so much! You, too!”

(I’ll never understand how people can blame the people who have no control over such rules. I hope I made her shift a little easier because she certainly made my day a little nicer!)

Not Such A Sour Story

, , , , | Hopeless | March 20, 2019

I’m at work in a lolly shop in Australia by myself; it’s a small shop. It’s a slow, boring day and I’m in a dreadful mood from customers being rude to me all day.

As I’m restocking some shelves, three American tourists come in and just start a casual conversation with me while they browse. They’re really nice and actually interested in what I have to say.

Eventually, a tall guy in the group asks me what my two favourite lollies are. I point out a caramel bar from the UK and a tin of cinnamon mints from America. He grabs both and buys them. After the purchase has gone through, he looks at me with a smile and says, “A gift for you. Bless you.”

I thank him but refuse; I say if he’d like he should pass the candies on to someone else who may enjoy it more.

They stick around for a bit longer, telling me what the similarities are like between Florida and Queensland, and since they’ve brightened my mood I buy them a five-pack of our most sour lollies in the store as a thank-you.

They may have travelled over 15,000 km to get here and only stuck around for ten minutes, but I’m glad they showed me it’s not all horrible working retail.

Faith in humanity slightly restored.

Page 1/4212345...Last