His Pizza Fee Is Not Grandfathered In

, , , , | | Right | June 4, 2019

(My dad owns a takeout pizzeria that was started by his father – my grandfather. The pizzeria is named in honor of my grandfather, who, at the time of this story, has been dead for 35 years. I order pizza on a Friday evening, which is a really busy time, and when I get to the store the line is about seven people long. Although I know the employees would let me cut to the front, I don’t like to do it because it makes other customers upset, so I just take my place in line behind a guy wearing a suit and start playing on my phone to pass the time.)

Suit Guy: “I can’t believe it’s taking so long.” *to the person in front of him* “How long have you been waiting? I’ve been waiting for about ten minutes now; this is crazy.”

Customer: “Oh. I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track.”

Suit Guy: *aggressive* “You should keep track!” *spins to face me* “You! You just got in line; you should remember the exact time you got in line so you know how long it takes.”

Me: *looking up from the phone, kind of confused* Uh, why?”

Suit Guy: *straightens importantly* “I’m going to report my wait time to the owner! You should, too. This is crazy; this place used to run better.”

Me: *makes eye contact with [Cashier #1], who knows who I am and is trying not to laugh* “I don’t think I’ll report my wait time to the owner. But thanks for the advice.”

Suit Guy: “Hmpf! I’m a close personal friend of the owner, so I’m going to tell him about this the next time I see him!”

(I look closely at the guy’s face, just in case I should recognize him; I don’t, and am amused now.)

Me: “You’re close friends with [Grandfather]?”

Suit Guy: *nods, pleased that someone seems to be impressed by him* “Oh, yes. For a long time. He won’t be happy when he hears how long I had to wait for a f****** pizza! I’m telling him the next time I see him.”

Me: *trades looks with [Cashier #1] again, both of us are barely keeping in our laughter* “Hopefully, he’ll see that the wait time goes down in the future, then.”

Suit Guy: *nods a bit, pleased with this response*

(We eventually get up to the front of the line, and one teller starts checking out [Suit Guy] while I go up to the other teller. Note that the tellers are about five feet apart on the same counter. I don’t pay for the pizza, since my dad gives me free food. I just pick it up and start to walk away after a brief, friendly conversation with [Cashier #1].)

Suit Guy: “Hey, hey, wait! She didn’t pay for her pizza!”

(I stop, getting a little annoyed now. [Cashier #2] speaks up before I figure out what I want to say.)

Cashier #2: “Oh, yeah, she’s the owner’s daughter. She doesn’t pay for food.”

Suit Guy: *goes red, staring at me*

Me: “Yeah, and hey, if you’re really going to talk to [Grandfather] soon, can you ask him what heaven’s like? After you complain about the wait time, of course.”

Should Have Said A Million Dollars

, , , , , | Right | April 15, 2019

(In the music store where I work, there is a bass hung up on the wall of one of our demo rooms. It’s a really random, oddball custom job that one of our former employees had put together for himself before moving away, and he never picked it up or had it sent to him. My boss has decided to hang it up simply for decoration with a sign that says, “NOT FOR SALE.” A couple of guys are demoing a guitar in the room, and when they come out, this exchange happens.)

Customer: “What’s the most expensive guitar you guys have?”

Me: “Probably the Taylor in the case, which is over $4000.”

Customer: “What about that bass in the room over there?”

Me: “Which one?”

Customer: “The one that says, ‘Not for sale.’”

Me: “Um… It isn’t for sale.”

Customer: “But how much is it?”

Me: “It has no price, because it’s not for sale.”

Customer: “Oh. Okay. Thanks.” *leaves*

Me: *turning to my coworker* “What exactly does ‘not for sale’ usually mean? Am I missing something?”

Grandma Been Raisin Some Crazy Grandkids

, , , , , , | Right | March 1, 2019

(I’m waiting in line for food at the office cafeteria, making chit-chat with one of the chefs, when an angry woman walks up and cuts in front of me.)

Woman: “Can I get some raisin sauce?”

Chef: “Raisin sauce?”

Woman: “Yes, I want some raisin sauce to go with my turkey.”

Chef: “You mean cranberry sauce?”


(This continues for some time.)

Chef: “We don’t have raisin sauce and I have no idea what it is.”

Woman: *now slamming her food tray on the counter* “THE RAISIN SAUCE! YOU KNOW?! LIKE GRANDMA USED TO MAKE!”

(My department now asks for the “Raisin Sauce” on the regular to keep the kitchen staff laughing through the lunch rush.)

It’s Not Cold Enough To Be Stone-Cold Sober

, , , , , | Right | December 22, 2018

(I work at a popular fast food chain. One night, an elderly lady comes in. It’s in the middle of February, but is only a bit chilly today.)

Customer: “I need you to call an ambulance. I’m cold and I don’t want to walk home.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. I can only call if it’s an emergency.”

Customer: “It is an emergency! I’m cold and don’t want to walk home.”

Me: “I can give you a free cup of coffee, but that’s all I can do.”

Customer: “Well, I’m not leaving!”

(She was staring at the counter and peeking up at me with a smile like she was going to do something dangerous. I called the police and explained the situation. Once I hung up, a few cop cars swarmed the parking lot. An officer asked where she was; I had her in the back with a coworker watching her. Turns out, she was drunk, and she was a regular to them.)

Repossession Is Ten Tenths Of The Law

, , , , , | Hopeless | December 2, 2018

(I am unemployed for an extended period of time. I end up getting a ticket for lapsed car inspection. The police officer tells me to get the car inspected and the ticket will be reduced to a parking fine. Two hours after this, my car gets repossessed by my car finance company. This is three days before I start my new job. I am not able to get the car inspected, so I go to court to pay the ticket.)

Judge: “So, we can reduce this to a parking fine if you plead guilty. Did you get the car inspected?”

Me: “Unfortunately, the car got repossessed several hours after I got the ticket.”

Judge: “Oh, no! That’s terrible!”

Me: “Well, I have a job now and I’m doing well, so it could be worse. I’m hoping to get the car back on Friday, and then I’ll have it inspected.”

Judge: “I’m so glad to hear you’re doing better. You have enough on your plate, so I’m dismissing this. You have a good day!”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(I got the car back and it is now inspected. I’m super grateful to the judge, because if I’d had to pay a fine, I wouldn’t have had enough money to recover my car.)

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