Allies From The Most Unexpected Places

, , , | Hopeless | September 17, 2018

(A guy walks into a bakery, looking uncomfortable. As I’m looking at the cupcakes, I overhear the conversation.)

Guy: “Do you have something… gay?”

Cashier: “Gay, sir?”

Guy: “Yeah… like rainbows or something. Do you have something gay?”

Cashier: “Um… We could certainly make a rainbow cake. What’s the occasion?”

Guy: “See, one of my employees, he was talking about his birthday coming up, and he said he was going to celebrate it with his partner, Richard. And then he kind of… Well, I think I was kind of shocked. So, I want to let him know I’m okay with the gay thing. Do you have anything like that?”

Cashier: *lights up* “Absolutely, sir! I have some pictures of our rainbow decorations, here. Would you like a cupcake or a full cake? We also have mini personal-size cakes.”

(The guy spent a while looking at designs and trying to find a good cake. As a gay person, this really warmed my heart. It proves that you don’t have to understand something or be comfortable with it to be good about it.)

The Best Comeback Since Sliced Bread

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2018

(I work in the in-store bakery of a major supermarket in the UK. One of the things we do is slice our fresh-baked loaves for customers. Unfortunately, our bread slicer broke a few days ago and we are waiting for a replacement part, so we can’t use it. A customer comes to the service door. She looks to be in her late thirties, while I am nineteen.)

Customer: *thrusting bread in my direction* “Excuse me, can you slice this for me?”

Me: *walking over to her* “I’m terribly sorry, but our slicer is broken. We’ve been unable to slice bread since Wednesday afternoon.”

(The customer leans to the side.)

Customer: “I can see the slicer right there. Slice it for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I know the slicer is there but, as I said, it’s broken. It cannot be used.”

Customer: *huffing* “You people are all the same; your generation is so lazy! All I’m asking you to do is slice this loaf. That’s not so hard.”

Me: “Again, I would love to slice it for you, but I can’t. The bread slicer is out of order. We’re waiting for a part that needs to be ordered directly from the manufacturer.”

Customer: “Look, let me make this simple: you either slice this bread instead of being so lazy, or I get your manager.”

Me: “Our manager knows the slicer is broken. He was the one who had to authorise us ordering the part. You can speak to him if you like, but he’ll tell you the same thing.”

Customer: “Well, this is disgusting! All I want is to get some bread sliced and you’re refusing.”

Me: “I’m not refusing; I just can’t slice bread on a machine that is broken.”

Customer: “There you go with those lazy excuses. You know in the time you’ve made all your lies you could have sliced this bread!”

Me: “Madam, I really don’t know what to tell you. The machine is broken; it needs a specific part replaced and it’s going to take time to get here. In the meantime, we can’t use the machine. If I could slice your bread, I would. But I can’t.”

Customer: “Well, get a bloody knife and cut it for me!”

Me: “I’m sorry, that’s not something I can do.”

Customer: *smiling triumphantly* “See, your machine isn’t really broken! If it was, you’d have said yes.”

Me: “Not really. We don’t have any knives suitable to slice bread in here. Plus, if you’re going to cut it with a knife, you’d be better off doing it at home.”

Customer: “Fine. Let’s see what your manager has to say about this. I hope you enjoy being unemployed!”

(The customer leaves. My manager does not come over. I decide to make up a few temporary paper signs to put around the bakery aisle to inform customers of our technical difficulties. We didn’t before because all our other customers understood, even if they were a little disappointed. After I put the sign up, I notice the woman is skulking about in the bakery aisle. I wonder what she is up to, so as I put up the signs, I keep an eye on her. Then, an elderly couple, probably in their seventies or older, picks out one of our baked-in-store loaves, and the woman practically jumps on them.)

Customer: “You know they refuse to cut these now? Their staff can’t be bothered. They’re hiring all these young, uneducated people who are too lazy to cut it for us! I tell you, this generation is so lazy!”

(The couple stare at her and then me.)

Elderly Woman: “Oh.” *points to signs I just put up* “Their slicer is broken, deary. I guess you’ll have to make do like my generation did without the luxury of electric slicers and cut it yourself at home with a bread knife instead of being lazy and relying on somebody else to do it for you.”

(The customer was speechless. She turned bright red and left without a word. It made my day.)

1 Thumbs

Let Her Seed Her Own Fate

, , , , | Right | September 13, 2018

(Every morning I come in and bake a batch of bread for the whole day. Since this is more bread than our display holds, the excess gets put on racks behind the counter out of customer sight. One of our more popular breads gets bought up so there is only one left when this particular customer walks up, and before we have had time to add more.)

Customer: “Yeah, I want this bread sliced!”

(My coworker reaches for the bread.)

Customer: “NO! I don’t want that old bread. I want new bread. You got any fresh bread?”

Coworker: “They were all made this morning.” *grabs bread off the other racks and slices it* “Here you are.”

Customer: “NO! There aren’t enough seeds on this bread! I want seeds like that bread!” *points to the “old” bread on the counter*

Me: “Excuse me, ma’am? They are from the same batch, so if you want that one—”

Customer: *glaring at me* “I AM THE CUSTOMER! I AM GOING TO PICK THE ONE I WANT!”

Me: “Yes, I was just letting you know that I made them all this morning, so if you want one that has the same amount of seeds as that one….”


Me: “Okay, I was just trying to let you know that.”

Customer: “Hmm, I bet you were. I GET WHAT I WANT!”

(At this point I was done and walked away so she could “get what she wanted.”)


A Deliciously Sweet Slice Of Karma

, , , , , , | Working | September 4, 2018

In Austria, some professions can only be done by someone who finished a “Lehre,” an apprenticeship that lasts two or three years and includes school. Most people start their Lehre when they’re about 15 or 16, but it’s not unheard of to have people in their 20s do an apprenticeship; surprise, surprise, not everybody knows what they want to be when they’re 15.

When I was 22, I decided I wanted to become a “Konditor” — a pastry chef — a job you can only do with an apprenticeship.

I started late into the application game, so most bakeries had already hired their apprentices for the year. I looked towards supermarket bakeries then — not ideal, but a start.

Things already started out bad, when I had my phone interview and the store manager outright laughed at me for being “old.” But I was desperate to not waste another year, so I took the job.

At first the other workers seemed friendly enough, but on the second day — on which the store manager left on a month-long vacation — everything went to s***.

Let me just list a few of the things that happened:

– My coworkers smoked in the kitchen, including my “teacher” and the bakery manager

– My “teacher” constantly complained that she shouldn’t have to teach me and would switch to talking in Turkish when she’d decided I had asked too many questions.

– I was the only Austrian person there, so my coworkers constantly had conversations in languages I didn’t understand. Judging from the looks they gave me and the way they laughed, I’m guessing some of those conversations were about me.

– They were also the biggest bunch of racists, constantly making fun of Asian shoppers and going as far to say that all Asians should be killed.

– When fruit on cakes started growing mold, my “teacher” would just pick them off, put on fresh fruit, print out a new expiration date, and put it back on the shelves. And if cakes expired, she would make Punschkrapfen out of them — basically you just crumble the cakes, add alcohol, and then glaze.

– I was only allowed to go home after my “teacher,” and after I had cleaned up the entire bakery section by myself. The only problem was that I sometimes only knew that I was allowed to start cleaning, when I saw my “teacher” shopping in the store, out of her uniform. Since she liked randomly disappearing during the day, I never knew if she was taking another break or if she had gone home.

– The dishwasher was broken, even after someone came to fix it. I told the bakery manager how everything in the dishwasher was still dirty, and she told me in the most condescending tone, “Of course everything is still dirty. You need hands to scrub those pans clean; do you think a dishwasher has hands?”

– My “teacher” always complained how I was too lazy for cleaning and that the store had never been this filthy before… which is pretty interesting, because the first time I cleaned, I found a box of opened donuts that had expired a month before I had even started the job, below one of the tables. And a half-empty nail polish bottle, among other things.

– The bakery department was constantly in the red, so my “teacher” decided the best way to fix this was to just not write down all the ingredients she took from other departments, and if it got out, to just blame it on me.

When the store manager came back, he talked to my “teacher” and the bakery manager about my performance, and when he came to talk to me, I was immediately let go. He said I clearly wasn’t cut out for the job, being all antisocial and never joining any conversations — which is quite hard, if you don’t know the language, but okay — always complaining about cleaning — I didn’t — and not wanting to bake. In my month there, I was allowed to actually bake maybe two or three times in total; I would have loved to get to bake.

I was, of course, rather upset about the whole thing, but things were looking up, because another branch of the same store said they’d consider taking me. So, with my hopes up, I went to the other store for an interview… only to be told that while they’d love to take me, they couldn’t, because the person who was in charge of apprenticeship applications for all the stores had refused. In the same conversation, I also found out said person was the boyfriend of my former bakery manager.

But the story has a happy ending… kind of.

I sadly gave up on being a pastry chef, but one day when I was complaining to friends about the whole thing, another friend of theirs was present, who happened to be a health and safety inspector. Now, I do not know if it was his doing, but a short time later, I heard that everybody in the bakery section of that branch had been fired. Serves them right.

Unfiltered Story #119370

, , , , | Unfiltered | September 4, 2018

(I work in a small, bakery/restaurant in a college town. I answer the phone:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Name], how may I help you?”

Customer: “I need a lemon meringue pie delivered to my son’s dorm room today.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we require 48 hours notice for special orders and we don’t deliver; you can pick something we have in stock and he can pick them up.”

Customer: “Well it’s a surprise for his birthday so it has to be delivered. It shouldn’t take long to make one pie.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our bakers have already left for the day, we aren’t prepared to make that and we don’t have someone available to deliver.”

Customer: “So there’s really no way for you to do this?”

Me: “No I’m sorry.”

(She then hangs up. Twenty minutes later I answer the phone and it’s the same woman with the same request and I had to go through the whole thing with her again.)

Page 3/4412345...Last