I work for a small, independently-owned gluten-free bakery/deli. The gluten-free nature of the bakery is signposted clearly under the name of the store, as well as all over the menu. We are in a very affluent part of town, so the clientele sometimes come with an air of superiority, even the kids.

A group of teenage boys come in, and they’re kind of loud and rude but nothing I haven’t seen before. One of them comes up to me, and right off the bat, he is insulting, antagonistic, and just being a jerk.

Teenager: “Okay, I’m going to ask this slowly so that you can understand.”

Me: “You can speak at a normal pace, sir.”

Teenager: “Cute. I want the meatball sub, but it must be gluten-free. I’ve had people fired in the past for f****** up and giving me gluten.”

Me: “I assure you, sir, that everything in this place is gluten-free. It’s kinda our thing.”

This teen looks surprised for a second, giving the impression that he didn’t know we were exclusively gluten-free, but he recovers quickly to save face.

Teenager: “Whatever. I’ll take the sub, and make sure it’s gluten-free. I know that’s a lot to process, but I am sure you can do it with some effort.”

His friends are laughing behind him while he just stands there with a smug look on his face. True, he is being an obnoxious little s***, but I eat obnoxious little s***s for breakfast.

I make each one their sub and they eat them in the corner. They’re all being jerks, but only the obnoxious little s*** insisted on his being gluten-free.

I go over to the table and ask how their subs were. Then, I talk to one of the other teens.

Me: “Oh, how was your gluten-free sub?”

Other Teenager: “I didn’t order mine gluten-free.”

Me: “Oh, you didn’t?”

Teenager: *Shouting* “No! It was me! I ordered mine gluten-free!”

Me: “Oh. Then I can’t remember which one had gluten in it.”

Teenager: “What?! You [string of somehow ableist, racist, and homophobic slurs all in one go]! Are you serious?!”

Me: “I guess I made an oopsie.”

Teenager: “No! Nooo! You a**hole! I have a date tonight! I’m gonna be farting and gassy all through dinner! You a**hole!”

He stands up, panicking, and rushes out while texting furiously on his phone. Since he seems to be the leader of this pack of jerks, they all silently get up and follow him. I start cleaning up the table while my manager comes over.

Manager: “Was that really necessary?”

Me: “The store literally has ‘gluten-free bakery’ under the name, and he was a total jerk. If we have to deal with the idiots once in a while, I don’t see why we can’t f*** with the really deserving ones.”

My manager just sighed and let me carry on. We never heard back from Mr. Gluteen.

We have a customer who always orders cakes from us for special occasions. She’s not exactly unfriendly, but she has a habit of leaving her dog outside while she orders or comes in for pick-up, and the dog always “does its business” right outside our front door.

On its own, that’s not an issue — my dog also has his favorite spots — but this woman never, ever picks up after the dog, leaving one of us with the unpleasant job of cleaning up the steaming pile before another customer steps in it and drags it inside.

The customer comes in today.

Customer: “I’d like to order your chocolate cake for my birthday! It’s going to be a big celebration, so it needs to be extra special!”

As I am taking down the order details, I notice her dog is outside doing its thing again.

Me: “Ma’am, just so you know, your dog has a habit of fouling the street right at our entrance when you come in. He does that every time you’re here. We’d appreciate it if you could pick it up when you leave.”

Customer: *Looking at me blankly* “If it lands on your doorstep, then it’s your job to clean it up, not mine. I’ll be in on Monday to pick up the cake.”

She trots out, leaving me shocked at the entitlement. I tell my manager what happened, and he gets a devilish grin on his face that means he is thinking up a way to deal with this situation the way only a manager and owner of a small independent business can.

On Sunday night, just before we close up, I hear him call the customer from his back office, and he gets me to listen in. He puts the call on speaker.

Manager: “Hello, [Customer]?”

Customer: “Speaking.”

Manager: “This is [Bakery]. I am calling to let you know that, unfortunately, we will be unable to provide you with a cake for tomorrow. You will, of course, be refunded.”

Customer: “What?! No! The party is tomorrow! I need that cake!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but we won’t be open tomorrow, so we can’t sell any cakes.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Manager: “Well, y’see, a city health inspector came by, saw that we had dog excrement outside our front door, and marked it as a health hazard. We have to legally close until we can pass another inspection.”

Customer: *Silent*

Manager: “I hope you understand.”

Customer: *Silent*

Manager: “I’m sure you’ll be able to find a nice tray cake from [Chain Store] tomorrow morning.”

Customer: *Silent*

Manager: “Okay, well, take care, then.” *Click*

Me: “That was amazing!”

Manager: “She earned that.”

Me: “But what happens if she comes in tomorrow and sees that we’re open?”

Manager: “That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. I think we’ve earned a paid day off tomorrow. Go have a nice day, and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Best boss ever!

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I’m a baker. Sometimes the staff who work with customers come back and vent to the bakers about ridiculous customers; this story was relayed to me by one of them.

Customer: “Hi. There was something wrong with this cake.”

Coworker: “What was wrong with the item?”

Customer: “It didn’t taste right when I ate it. Nobody told me it wasn’t chocolate.”

The customer then pulled out our lemon pound cake, which comes in a brown cardboard wrapper. There were bite marks on the cardboard.

Related:
The Cake Is A Lie, Part 10
The Cake Is A Lie, Part 9
The Cake Is A Lie, Part 8
The Cake Is A Lie, Part 7
The Cake Is A Lie, Part 6

I am bringing out a batch of freshly baked bagels in our bakery. It’s pride month, but our bakery has the pride flag on the window all year round, and staff are encouraged to wear pins to be allies or show belonging to marginalized groups if they want to. I am a cis-gendered white male, but I am wearing a pin that is half pride flag, half trans flag, with text in the middle saying “you can be yourself with me.”

I am stocking the bagels when I hear a gasp behind me. I turn to see the owner of the bakery serving an older woman and her daughter. The gasp has come from the older woman customer.

Customer: “[Bakery Owner], I don’t know if you know what these things mean, but your bagels are being handled by a transvestite!”

Owner: “I… I don’t think that’s right, ma’am. I believe that if my worker was, as you say, the term is transgendered, which they’re not, right?”

Me: “No, I’m not. I’m just showing support for the trans community.”

Owner: “There you go, not that it would matter if they were.”

Customer: “I think we will be taking our business elsewhere. It’s a shame, but I can’t be eating things that have been handled by… those people.”

Both customers start to walk out, with the daughter looking more embarrassed than anything else.

Owner: “Please, ma’am, why don’t you come back tomorrow? I promise there will be some changes around here!”

Customer: “Fine, I’ll give you until tomorrow to sort all this out.”

They leave and the owner turns to me, with a devilish glint in his eye. I ask what he’s planning but he simply states:

Owner: “If that customer is stupid enough to not notice the pride flag on the window for the last few years, then I think I need to make things more… obvious.”

The rest of the day goes like normal. I come into work the next day and the owner and baking staff have been in since the early hours as usual, but there is something different about this morning’s batch.

Owner: “What do you think?”

Me: “Everything is… rainbow-colored?”

Owner: “Exactly! I’ve seen the recipes on YouTube for years and practiced a little at home, but I thought f*** it, let’s try it in the store!”

After we opened, the customer came back as she had threatened, noticeably without her daughter this time.

Customer: “I’m back and I hope that… that… oh…”

Her powers of observation have finally been overwhelmed. She can see nothing but rainbow-colored bagels, loaves, croissants, donuts, and everything else. Not one of our products baked that morning has been left out.

Owner: “Sorry, ma’am, I tried to get all the gay out, but I think I pressed the wrong button and put more gay back in.”

Customer: “You have lost a customer today!”

Owner: “Aww, really? Sure you don’t want one of our new lemon, guava, and blackberry tarts? We’re calling them LGBTs!”

The customer storms out in a huff, and we all share a laugh.

Me: “That was amazing, but… but what if the customers don’t want their bread full of so much coloring?”

Owner: “We have some plain boring ones in the oven, so I think we’ll be fine. Even if no one wants them, that was so worth it!”

Some customers actually do want the super colorful baked goods! Later in the afternoon, the embarrassed daughter from before comes rushing in.

Customer’s Daughter: “My mom has been screaming at me on the phone all morning about you guys and I wanted to see if it was true!”

Me: *Looking at the remainder of our rainbow products.* “I guess it is!”

Customer’s Daughter: *Laughs.* “That’s amazing! I’ll take all the bagels that are left! Will you have more tomorrow? If I keep buying them my mom will stop coming over for breakfast!”

Me: “Here’s twenty.”

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I used to work for a major bakery at a major theme park. My coworkers were petty, and the supervisors were the same. Coworkers believed their way was the correct way, even if it wasn’t. Supervisors made mistakes and tried to blame the workers.

I was working the morning rush and my job was to throw the items in the oven. I had just gotten out of training and was told that I could throw different bakery items into the oven at the same time as long as they were mostly the same (e.g., I could throw in two different sandwiches as long as they had the same bread.)

My coworker was helping me and noticed me doing this and started freaking out! She was telling me that I was doing everything wrong. She walked away and left me alone during the rush.

After the rush, the supervisor called me over and asked if we could talk.

Supervisor: “I was told that you were cooking multiple things in the oven at once?”

Me: “I apologize. I just got out of training and was told that I could cook [breakfast sandwich #1] and [breakfast sandwich #2] at the same time. I will not do it again, then.”

Supervisor: “What? No, that’s allowed.”

Me: “Oh. I guess [Coworker] didn’t tell you what I was cooking. Are you going to talk to her now?”

Supervisor: “That doesn’t seem needed.”

Me: “She just lied to you and tried to get me in trouble for something I didn’t do.”

[Supervisor] said nothing. I didn’t get in trouble, but as far as I know, nothing was said or done to [Coworker]. I shortly left that bakery and I regret nothing!