Cookie Cutter Harassment

, , | Right | June 17, 2019

(I work at an old bakery where my grandmother used to work. Most of my coworkers either worked with my grandma while she was still alive or frequented the bakery as children. I have an angel heart tattoo on my arm. Two male customers come in; one reeks of alcohol.)

Customer #1: “Hey, angel, give me something sweet and I might do, as well.” *wink*

Customer #2: “We’ll take five chocolate, and three almond cookies.”

Me: *trying to keep calm and handing them the order* “Okay, that’ll be [price]. Cash or credit?”

Customer #1: “That pretty face deserves a lot of cash. Here you go, angel tits.”

(I put on my best customer service smile and extend my arm to take the cash, but he slaps it away and tries to shove the bills in my cleavage. Keep in mind that I’m wearing a high-neck shirt.)

Me: “Okay, that’s enough, buddy. This can go one of two ways: you either keep your hands home before you lose them, pay, and get the h*** out, or… you get escorted out with no food and a harassment charge. What will it be, honey?”

Customer #2: “Just go sit in the car, man.”

([Customer #1] mumbles something and walks out.)

Customer #2: “You have to forgive him; he’s drunk.”

Me: “Being drunk doesn’t give him an excuse to act like a jacka**. Enjoy your cookies while they’re intact and please never come back unless both of you are sober.”

(He quietly pays and walks out. My manager approaches me, laughing.)

Me: “Am I in trouble?”

Manager: “H*** no. That reminds me of the times when [Grandma] was here.”

Coworker: “Except no one walked out with a boot tattooed on their a**.”

(And I thought my respect for Grandma couldn’t be any higher.)

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Oh, Brother, Where Art Thy Discount?

, , , | Right | June 11, 2019

(My brother and I own a small bake shop. We give a discount to students, but people are always trying to scam us to get the discount when they don’t deserve it.)

Me: “Okay, your total is [amount].”

Customer: “But what about the discount?”

Me: “Are you a student?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Then you don’t get one.”

Customer: “What about the family discount?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “The owner’s my kid brother. Family gets a discount here. Didn’t they tell you when they hired your stupid a**?”

Me: “One sec.” *turns towards the kitchen* “Yo! [Brother]! Come out here for a sec.”

(My brother, who is 6’5″ and built like a train, comes out and towers over my “brother” and me.)

Brother: “What?”

Me: “Apparently, I’m not the eldest. Meet our older brother.”

(The customer is starting to look pretty nervous now.)

Me: “Now, he’s our brother, and we should treat him with respect, but apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job explaining the discount. Could you assist?”

(My brother has a slight language disorder, so he doesn’t mince his words, and he does not suffer fools gladly. Now very grumpy, he turns towards our would-be brother.)

Brother: “Is he a student?”

Me: “Nope!”

([Brother] crouches down and looks the customer dead in the eye.)

Brother: “No. Discount.”

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Unfiltered Story #153766

, , | Unfiltered | June 8, 2019

(I work at a small bagel shop that also serves sandwiches and coffee. We also put the traditional toppings such as cream cheese and butter at request. This happened at what I thought was a normal transaction.)

Me: Hi, can I help you?
Customer: Hello, can I have two whole wheat bagels?
Me: Sure, anything else?
Customer: Yes, I’d like two iced coffees with milk and sugar.
(After this, I proceed to make the customer’s order. Usually when people ask for just bagels, it goes without saying they do not want anything on it.)
Me (having finished order): Alrighty then ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you?
Customer: No, I believe that is all.
Me: Ok, your total is [Total amount].
(She pays the total and is about to leave when she looks inside her bag and comes back up to the counter.)
Customer: Excuse me, miss? You didn’t butter these bagels.
Me (slightly confused): I’m sorry, you didn’t ask me to butter them?
Customer: Yeah, don’t you guys just always slice and slap butter right on the bagels?
Me: No ma’am, you have to ask for that…
Customer (incredulous): I do? That isn’t how you fix all the bagels?
Me: No, if you want something on the bagels you have to ask for it. ( I go to butter her bagels.) Also, ma’am, having butter on these is an extra charge,  I’ll have to adjust your price.
Customer: So it’s extra? Alright then…
Me (hands her the now buttered bagels): Ok, you just owe me [some amount] more.
(She pays for her bagels and leaves, all the while shaking her head as if this was an entirely new concept.)
Me (to coworker after she leaves): I want to know what bagel store she goes to that butters bagels without having to be told!

Manners Are Crumbling Quicker Than Cookies

, , , , | Right | June 6, 2019

(A mother walks in with her eight- to ten-year-old son who is wearing a superhero-like mask over his eyes. The mother asks for some pizza and is looking at the pastries while her son stares at the cookies.)

Mother: *to son* “Which do you want to bring?”

Son: *jabbing finger into cookie display case* “That one, that one, that one, that.”

Mother: “Which?”

Son: *jabbing harder and bellowing at his mother now* “THAT ONE, THAT ONE, THAT ONE, AND THAT ONE!”

Mother: *fed up* “Okay, I’m not getting you anything.”

Son: *freaking out and still jabbing the glass with his finger* “NO! I WANT THAT ONE, THAT, THAT, AND THAT!”

Mother: “Which ones?”

Son: *just as loud and rude* “THAT ONE, THAT ONE, THAT ONE, AND THAT ONE!”

(As the mother is repeatedly asking her son which cookies he wants, I have been watching him through the glass behind the display case and already have his cookies. My eyes are completely bugging out of my head. This is by far one of the rudest children I’ve seen in a while. I meet the mother at the counter and her son has gone to the door where there are chimes to let us know when people come into the store. He is messing with them and making a lot of noise.)

Me: *to her son* “Honey—“

Mother: “Yeah, you tell him.”

Me: “Please, don’t do that.”

Son: “Why?”

Me: “Because it’s loud and annoying.”

Son: “Oh.” *stops and goes over to a baguette in a basket* “Hey, Mom, look!” *grabs the exposed part of the baguette*

Me: “Okay, I can’t sell that now because he touched it.”

(The mother and son are starting to leave.)

Me: “Ma’am, I can’t sell this because he touched it.”

Mother: *to son* “You touched it! Now I have to buy it!”

Son: “So, if we touch stuff, that means we get it for free?”

Mom: “No!”

Me: “I can’t sell it to anybody else because you touched it.”

Son: “Oh.”

Mother: “You’d better eat this since I had to buy it!”

(If I had done ANY of that when I was his age, my Nanna would never have taken me anywhere again. I would have been RUSHED out of the store and called by my middle name until I felt the fear of God. Parents aren’t willing to correct their own children, but of course, they’ll let a total stranger do it!)

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Full-Baked Stupidity

, , , , , , | Working | May 31, 2019

(My wife works for a bakery and I help out sometimes. The recipe sheets are starting to look messy with all the changes written on them, and some of the steps aren’t in order. I decide to retype them with the changes and email them to the owner to print. The next day I walk into the bakery and the owner hands me the stack of recipes.)

Owner: “My husband made a few small changes.”

Me: *internally* “Oh, no… No, he can’t be that stupid.”

(He was that stupid. Her husband knew nothing about baking. One of his “changes” was replacing every instance of buttermilk with regular milk. He also reordered the list of ingredients, which I had put in the order they needed to be added to the batter.)

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