Third Time’s A Scone

| San Francisco, CA, USA | Working | November 26, 2012

Me: “Excuse me, I don’t see any more blueberry yogurt muffins in the display. Are there more back in the kitchen?”

Employee: “Yeah, I think so! Hold on.”

(The employee comes back out a few moments later with a strawberry yogurt parfait.)

Employee: “Here you go.”

Me: “Oh, sorry… I’m looking for a blueberry yogurt muffin.”

Employee: “Oops! Sorry. Hold on…”

(The employee goes back into the kitchen, and comes back out with a blueberry yogurt parfait.)

Employee: “You’re lucky! This is the last one with blueberries!”

Me: “No, no. I’m looking for blueberry yogurt MUFFINS. They’re muffins that you make with yogurt?”

Employee: “OOOHH! I got it. Ha, sorry, long day!”

Me: “No problem! I’m having a long day, too.”

Employee: “At least it’s Friday! Hold on, just one more second.”

(The employee goes back into the kitchen yet again, and comes out with a cranberry scone.)

Employee: “That’ll be two dollars!”

Me: *giving up* “…Yeah, okay.”

The Cake Is A Lie, Part 5

, , , , | Right | November 22, 2012

(My aunt and uncle own a small bakery, specializing in artisan breads, muffins, and bagels. They have never sold cakes, cupcakes, or doughnuts. They also bought this shop in 1989, and have owned it ever since. It is a busy week for them, as one of their bakers is out sick. I am filling in and helping them out while their baker is recovering. A customer walks in whom I have never seen before. She is carrying an arm load of wedding planning brochures and folders, and is speaking to me between text messages she is sending on her phone.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Bakery]! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “Yes, I need to place an order for a wedding cake. My daughter is getting married next week!” *she beams with pride*

Me: “Well, congratulations to your daughter! That’s wonderful news, but I’m afraid we don’t sell cakes. We do offer various types of bread, muffins, and bagels, however.”

Customer: “Good. I want it to be a three-tiered cake. On the top tier, I want carrot cake. The second tier should be dark chocolate. The bottom tier should be lemon. All of that with cream cheese icing. Doesn’t that sounds wonderful?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, it does. However, as I just said, we don’t sell cakes here. We only sell bread, muffins, and bagels.”

Customer: “Oh, and on the top tier, could you make sure the carrot cake has no raisins? My darling hates raisins!”

Me: “Again, ma’am, we don’t sell nor bake cakes here.”

Customer: “What kind of special designs can you put in the icing? Her colors are black and pink, and I would like the cake to have a very modern, contemporary look.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t sell cakes. I’m sure that a wedding cake specialist could make you what you want, but we can’t do that here. I do have the name of a great wedding cake designer that we refer customers to quite often, and you are free to make an appointment with her to discuss your daughter’s cake.”

(The customer is not paying attention; she doesn’t even look up from her latest text message.)

Customer: “Uh huh? Good.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t sell cake.”

Customer: *again, not looking up* “Okay, so the wedding is next week, Saturday. The wedding starts at 5:00, the reception at 7:00 at [Local Hotel ballroom]. I’ll need it delivered to the hotel no earlier than 6:00, and no later than 6:30.”

Me: “Ma’am, like I said, we don’t sell wedding cakes! I have the name of someone you can call, but with just over a week until the wedding I’m not sure she, or anyone, would have time to prepare what it is you are asking.”

Customer: “Oh, and just put it on my house account with you and send me a bill.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t do billing, and haven’t in the entire time I’ve been in this shop. Plus, we don’t sell wedding cakes!”

Customer: *suddenly looking up* “What do you mean, you don’t do billing?! I’ve been a loyal customer of this bakery for more than 20 years! I have never been told I couldn’t have a bill sent to my house! I am good friends with [Former Owner], I’ll have you know!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sure you and [Former Owner] are good friends. However, they sold this bakery to the current owners in 1989. She has not owned, nor been affiliated with, this bakery in 23 years.”

Customer: *goes back to her phone as a new text message comes in* “Yes, I thought you’d see things my way! Now, I have to run. Bill me; my name should be in your system!”

(As I try to protest and get her attention, she sweeps out the door while answering an incoming phone call. Since I did not know her name, or any way to reach her, I simply write off the experience as an oddity and continue about my day. I leave a note for my uncle, who is opening the next day, but he apparently doesn’t share the note about the customer with my aunt. The next week, on Friday afternoon, I get a frantic phone call from my aunt. She is upset and asking something about me taking an order for a wedding cake, and begging me to come down to the bakery to help her figure out what is going on. As I enter the bakery, the woman from earlier is back, having come in to check on the status of the cake order, and my heart sinks.)

Customer: *pointing to me* “Him! He is the one who took my order, guaranteed that it would be ready, and promised to bill me for it! Why would you hire such a worthless piece of trash?!”

Aunt: “Miss, that is my nephew. Please do not call him names.”

Customer: “Oh, I’ll call him whatever I want to call him! He screwed up and deserves to be held accountable here!”

Aunt: “Miss, as I already told you, we have never sold wedding cakes. I don’t know what you are talking about!” *then, to me* “Did you promise her a wedding cake, to be delivered tomorrow to [Local Hotel ballroom]?”

Me: “No, I didn’t. In fact, that is opposite of what I told her. I told her, several times, that we do not sell wedding cakes, and never have. I tried to give her [Wedding Cake Designer]’s name, but she didn’t listen to me.”

Customer: “Like h*** you did! You promised me a cake for my daughter’s wedding! Her wedding is tomorrow and I demand you make sure her cake is there!”

Me: “There is nothing we can do. I told you, several times, that all we sell are breads, muffins, and bagels. We don’t sell cakes. We don’t deliver. And we don’t bill people. I’m sorry if you didn’t understand that earlier. I’d be happy to offer you a couple loaves of bread if it would help smooth things over here. But, I’m sorry; there is nothing I can do about a wedding cake.”

Customer: “I don’t want your disgusting breads! I want the cake you promised me!”

(She starts swearing up a storm and threatening me bodily harm.)

Aunt: “That’s it! Ma’am, my nephew explained to you when you first came in that we don’t sell cake. He offered to put you in contact with a wedding cake designer. You didn’t listen to him, so this mistake is all yours. Now you are threatening him. Please leave, before I call the police.”

Customer: “You haven’t heard the last of this! You will all be sorry for what you have done here!”

(Sure enough, she stayed true to her promise. Over the next six months we heard from her four different attorneys she hired, her daughter, and her new son-in-law. Each time we explained to a family member what had happened, and they apologized profusely for her behavior once they realized what kind of bakery we were. Each attorney we sat down with who represented her apologized for wasting our time, and then dropped her case. Two of those attorneys are now regular customers of the bakery and love the breads!)

 

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Receipting You Loud And Clear

| Ohio, USA | Working | November 21, 2012

(Note: the owners of the bakery where I work tend to drop-in unannounced to nitpick the employees.)

Owner: “You always give them a receipt.”

My Boss: “They don’t want their receipts. They’ve told us that. When we do hand them a receipt, they just drop it on the floor on their way out, and we have to take the time to go clean them up.”

Owner: “I don’t care. They must always be given a receipt. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

(When the next customer comes through the line, the owner rings him up. She tries to give it back to the owner.)

Customer: “I don’t need my receipt. Thanks.”

Owner: “No, you have to take it!”

Customer: *crumples receipt into a ball, throws it on the floor, and walks out of store*

Owner: *turns red*

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Doesn’t Understand The Native Part

| New York, NY, USA | Right | November 16, 2012

(My boyfriend, our best friend, and I have recently started a bakery business together. The boys are the bakers, while I work the register. It’s late in the afternoon and we are just about to close. The boys are sweeping the floors and other stuff. I am Mohawk Native American, but people often think I am Hispanic because of my darker skin. A customer walks in.)

Me: “Good evening, How can I help you?”

Customer: “Ah, no. Him.” *points at my friend*

My Friend: “Oh, sorry I am cleaning up. [my name] will help you with your order.”

Customer: “No, it’s fine. How about him?” *points at my boyfriend, who is at the back doing the accounts*

Me: “He is not available either. I would be glad to help you.”

Customer: *sighs* “Alright. I have an order for a dozen eclairs, but can he give them to me?” *points again at my boyfriend*

Me: *confused* “Why?”

Customer: “Well, you’re Mexican, right? I just don’t want immigrants touching my food. You understand, right?”

(I just stare with shock.)

My Friend: “Lady, first of all she is Native American. Second, we do not tolerate racism here, so would you be so kind to leave our shop?”

Customer: “And you call yourself American! Defending some painted savage b****! I bet she puts peyote in the food to lure good Christian Americans into being voodoo savages!” *storms out and slams the door*

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Half-Baked And Fully Lazy

| Minneapolis, MN, USA | Working | October 2, 2012

(Note: The bakery and deli workers usually do their duties separately but if one of the sections needs help, we will help each other out.)

Bakery Coworker: “Can you and [Deli Coworker] come help us? We’re very behind.”

Me: “Sure, we’re not too behind. We can both go help you until you’re caught up, but then we have to come back and finish our job.”

Bakery Coworker: “Thank you so much!”

(We all go across the store to the bakery and me and Deli Coworker start working, Bakery Coworker, on the other hand, goes right to the phone and calls her boyfriend. Annoyed, I walk over to the phone and hit the button to hang the phone up.)

Bakery Coworker: “Um, what are you doing? I was talking to my boyfriend!”

Me: “I refuse to come over here and do YOUR work while you sit and chat with your boyfriend. If you have time to lean, you have time to clean. We have our own things to do without having to do your stuff!”

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