(Our bakery is designed so that customers can see me working. There are large signs proclaiming BAKERY right above the employee door. One day I am bent over doing some intricate detail work on a trim. I am clearly wearing our uniform and appropriate apron.)

Customer: “Do you work in the bakery?”

(I don’t immediately respond, thinking they were addressing my coworker who is right there out on the sales floor.)

Customer: “Excuse me! Do you work in the bakery?”

Me: *look up with a slightly incredulous look on my face* “Yes. What can I help you with?”

(The customer asks a question which I cheerfully answer and they leave. I immediately start laughing. My coworker gives me an inquisitive look.)

Me: “I don’t know why I keep getting that question. Next time I’m going to panic and say ‘OH, GAWD, I’M SLEEP-DECORATING AGAIN! How did I get here?!'”

(We laughed and shook our heads and continued working in our bakery, which we then dubbed ‘The Fakery.’)

(I go into our local serve-yourself bakery to buy muffins for some staff meetings. I needed two dozen, but because the meetings are spaced throughout the day, I pack eight muffins into three different boxes.  I get up to the register to pay and the clerk tries to charge me for three dozen.)

Me: “I only have two dozen.”

Clerk: “But you have three boxes so it’s three dozen.”

Me: “Yes, I have three boxes, but there are only eight in each box which equals two dozen.

Clerk: “Nope. Three boxes equals three dozen.”

(After going round and round with her several times, I ask for the manager. She goes into the back to get him and as soon as he comes out, he says without even looking:)

Manager: “Three boxes is three-dozen.”

(I put the boxes on the counter and walked out. I ended up at my local supermarket where I bought two dozen donuts in three boxes without any problems.)

(Our chocolate chip muffins are coveted by kids as an after-school snack. We recommend that people call ahead and have us set one aside if they want to make sure we aren’t out by the time they arrive, since we stop baking muffins around midday. We will also warm up the muffins on request, but only if they will be eaten immediately, as they will be tough once they cool off.)

Me: *answering phone* “Good afternoon, [Store]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “THIS IS GEORGE.”

Me: “Hi, what can I do for you?”

Caller: “…”

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “THIS IS GEORGE.”

Me: *making the connection between the high-pitched voice and the name of one of our regular second-grader customers* “You want me to save you a muffin, George?”

Caller: “CHOCOLATE CHIP MUFFIN. HEATED, PLEASE.”

Me: “I’ll wait and heat it up when you get here. See you soon, buddy.”

Me: “My name is [Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “One moment, please.”

Me: “Let me know if you have any questions.”

Customer: “What came first the chicken or the egg?”

Me: “The egg. So the chick could hatch.”

Customer: “Where did the egg come from then?”

Me: *shrugs* “Mutant ostrich.”

(Like many other bakeries, ours takes custom orders by asking for a last name that the customer can pick up by. Also of note, I work only the very early morning shifts, so I see very little of our customer base and take very few orders myself.)

Customer: “Good morning. Pick up for a cake for [very Polish-sounding last name that starts with a K].”

Me: “Sure! Just a moment please.”

(I go to the cooler to check for the cake, but there is only one order, and it is for a [very obviously English last name starting with an H]. I return to the customer.)

Me: “I’m very sorry sir, but I can’t seem to find the cake. Could it possibly have been listed under any other name?”

(The customer’s eyes go wide while I speak.)

Customer: “No, it would only be under [Polish Name].”

(I decide to check the orders that have been finished and marked as received, and there’s a similar Polish name starting with an A. I take the order by the customer, in case someone in his family had picked it up earlier.)

Me: “Could it possibly be [Other Polish Name]?”

Customer: “No, no it has to be [Polish Name].”

(While I start to speak again, my coworker comes up to see what’s going on, and the customer seems to recognize her. She quickly walks away, but then comes back with the lone cake from the cooler and stops me in mid-sentence.)

Coworker: “Is the cake for a Harry and Larry?” *looking at the decorations written on the cake*

Customer: *joking with her* “Well, it’s supposed to be for a Larry and Harry, but I suppose that will do!” *he takes the cake with satisfaction and heads off*

Me: “…what?”

Coworker: “Oh, I took his order the other day, and I recognized him. What was the problem?”

Me: “He asked for an order with a very obviously a Polish name starting with a K that I can’t even pronounce or begin to spell. That is NOT the name written on the order form.”

Coworker: “Oh… was I anywhere close?”

Me: “…nowhere near.”