Can’t Have Your Free Cake And Eat It

, , , , | Right | October 18, 2017

(I work at bakery that only sells cakes, in different sizes. We offer an individual serving in all of our flavors and run coupons for a free individual cake in the local magazines. On this particular day we are busy and many people are taking advantage of the free cake by bringing in the coupon.)

Customer: “I see all these people are getting a free cake with a coupon. Can you give me one for free, too?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but they brought in the coupon from the magazine ads we run, and I have to have the coupon to give you a free cake.”

Customer: “I buy these cakes all the time. I don’t have a coupon. All these people are getting free ones; why can’t you give one to me?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, they get a free one with the coupon; we run them in all the magazines. You can also sign up with our email listings to receive them; we’re actually running one later this month. But unfortunately, if you don’t have a coupon, I can’t give you a free cake.”

Customer: *starting to pout and get mad* “But I don’t have one. Why can’t you just give me a free one? I’m buying several of them!”

(Since we offer a discounted price for a dozen of the individual cakes I think she’s talking about that price.)

Me: “How many do you plan to purchase today?”

Customer: “Seven.”

Me: “Unfortunately, ma’am, we don’t have a special price for seven cakes.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why you can’t just give me a free one.”

(I go through the rest of the transaction, getting the flavor of the cakes she wants, and I start to gather and bag them as she continues to badger me about giving her a free cake.)

Customer: *angry* “Good customer service would be giving me a free cake!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t have the authority to just give you a free cake.”

Customer: “Well, maybe there is someone here who can!”

Me: “I can get the manager, if you’d like to talk to her?”

(She finally realizes she isn’t going to bully me into giving her free cake for no reason, and pouts like a two-year-old the rest of the time.)

Me: *smiling* “Have a good day!”

Customer: *snatches bags and walks out*

Taking Heights To New Lows

, , , | Working | September 28, 2017

(Up until recently, I worked in the bakery department of a deli/bakery combo in a supermarket chain. One of my coworkers is very short, and I’m just over six feet tall. If I am on my knees getting something from a bottom shelf, and she stands beside me, the top of my head still comes up over her shoulder. I have playfully harassed her about her height since the beginning, since she isn’t sensitive about it and the whole department enjoys teasing each other. One day after I quit, I am in to do some shopping, when she sees me.)

Short Ex-Coworker: “[My Name]! When are you coming back to work with me?! I miss you!”

Me: “Why? Is there something you need on a shelf?”

Short Ex-Coworker: “No!”

Other Ex-Coworker: “What about yesterday when you were trying to get that box of containers off of the top of the supply shelf, and it tipped over backwards on top of you and trapped you inside?”

Me: “HA!”

Short Ex-Coworker: “I keep forgetting how much I hate you both. One day, I’m going to have my revenge.”

Me: “I’ll order some shin guards.”

You Need A Cough-Drop Doughnut

, , , , | Right | September 17, 2017

(I work in a small town bakery. Only two workers are present for the evening shift. Each time we hear the door chime, signifying a customer has entered, my coworker and I do rock/paper/scissors to see who has to help the customer. I lose this time.)

Me: “Welcome to [Bakery]! How may I help you?

Customer: *cough* “I’d like a dozen doughnuts.” *cough* “Six glazed, three chocolate cake, two apple fritters… no, no.” *cough* “Not that glazed doughnut! No, to the right. Down one more. Yes, that one.” *cough*  “Then I want that one. No, the other one.”

(There are about 60 doughnuts on a tray, and it’s very hard to see where she is tapping the glass from my side. She continues to be this picky about every single doughnut in the entire dozen, all while her coughing worsens.)

Me: “Will that be all for you?”

Customer: *begins coughing so hard, she can’t speak, she only nods*

Me: “That will be [total].”

(As she hands me the money, she coughs up a HUGE piece of mucus onto half the money and part of the countertop. I stand there, frozen and mortified.)

Customer: *very happily* “Keep the change!”

(She grabs the doughnuts and rushes out. I am still standing there, staring at the counter and money in my hand. My coworker and another customer have witnessed all of this.)

Me: “What do I do?”

Coworker: “She’s your customer. You clean it up.”

(I did. She became a regular and was always coughing like that. I refused to help her, rock/paper/scissors or not!)

Licking These Cakes Into Shape

, , , , , | Working | September 12, 2017

My mother and soon-to-be step-father were getting married, and we were all out looking for a cake. We asked around and tried to find the best place to buy one, and wound up in a rather nice neighborhood at a fancy bakery.

We walked in and oohed and ahhed at all the good-looking cakes, and went to get ours custom-made.

As my parents ordered the cake, I wandered around until I reached a door in the back and looked through its window. Inside was the kitchen, and two men were baking. As I watched, one started to apply some icing, and when he ran out, he ran his fingers down and then LICKED the tool! Then, without washing it, he started putting more on.

Horrified, I went back to my parents and told them what happened. We quickly canceled the order, left, and didn’t go back.

Unfiltered Story #93154

, | Unfiltered | September 10, 2017

(A friend of mine relayed this story to me. My friend is very soft-spoken and non-confrontational. Last Friday, she stopped, as she always does, at a popular donut chain to pick up 2 dozen donuts for her coworkers. Usually, the store is stocked with pre-made dozen boxes. Today there are none, and there is what looks like barely 4 dozen in stock behind the counter. She approaches the cashier.)

My friend: Hi, I wanted to get two dozen assorted donuts?

Cashier: If I have them, sure.

(The cashier goes about filling her order. As she does, more people get in line behind my friend. As she’s working, a customer at the end of the line speaks up.)

Customer: *fixing my friend with a disdainful glare* Lady, you are something f*****g else.

(The whole place goes silent. My friend turns beet red and looks at the floor, not wanting to say something back and give the woman the satisfaction of knowing she affected her. Nobody speaks up. The cashier finishes boxing the donuts.)

Cashier: Anything else?

My friend: A small iced coffee, please, no cream, no sugar.

(The cashier brings her the drink and takes my friend’s card for her payment. Suddenly, the cashier turns nasty.)

Cashier: *sarcastically* I suppose you want a bag, too?

My friend: Yes, please.

(The cashier slams the drawer shut, places my friend’s card and receipt on top of the boxes of donuts, and pushes them toward her without a bag.)

Cashier: Next customer!

(She’ll be contacting corporate both for the cashier’s attitude and her silence about the nasty customer.)

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