Unfiltered Story #151700

, | | Unfiltered | May 21, 2019

(A customer comes into the cafe asking for 2 of a certain type of drink and then asks if we still do it. I explain we don’t but suggest an alternative and we have a bit of a back-and-forth about it but he’s been polite enough the whole time)

Customer: “OK and that drink is made with crushed ice?”

Me: “All our blended drinks are made with ice, yes.”

Customer: “OK, fine I’ll have that then.”

Me: “Sorry, was that 2 you said you wanted?”

Customer: “You know what? F*** YOU! YOU’RE JUST ANOTHER LITTLE SL*G!”

(The customer then proceeds to storm out as I stare wide-eyed at the next customer and stammer out a “sorry”)

A Regular Hero

, , , , | | Legal | May 18, 2019

(I’m working the counter at a fairly popular café. It’s the afternoon and it’s surprisingly busy for our store. Besides me, there are two other people in the store: a regular customer and her boyfriend of three months. The regular is a short, very sweet girl, an extreme pacifist, and generally a very pleasant person to talk to. She’s been coming to the store for as long as I’ve been hired, and we’re close enough that we talk all the time through text. She’s one of my closest friends. Her boyfriend is a giant dude with piercings in his right ear and a long Mohawk that he’s dyed bright neon green. He looks like a classic “punk” and honestly looks like he could throw a coffee machine across a room if he wanted to. The regular, on the other hand, is pretty much a classic “schoolgirl” type person. She brought him in to meet me, and for a date, so they both seem really nice. They chose a small table with metal chairs at the end of the bar, and the girl is looking in my direction as this goes down. A middle-aged man walks into the empty café and stands by the bar in front of me.)

Me: “Hello, sir, welcome to [Café]. What can I get for you today?”

Man: “Oh, just my regular—“ *shifts his hand out of his hoodie pocket to show me a rather large knife* “—and don’t talk to those two while you’re getting it; I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

Me: *glances at the regular and the boyfriend* “Of… of course, sir.” *opens the register with a rather loud clack — they tend to slam open if we don’t catch them*

(The regular looks up from her drink, looking confused at the loud noise. The boyfriend doesn’t look up from his phone.)

Me: “And will that be for h-here or to go, s-sir?”

(I notice the regular stand up really slowly from her chair, and the boyfriend looks away from his phone to look at her.)

Man: “To go, obviously. I just told you I was in a hurry. Get it out here already.”

Me: “Right, sorry…”

(I notice the regular wrapping her hands around the back of her chair, and the boyfriend is leaning forward slightly, like he plans on getting up. I’ve collected all the larger bills in my hand and I’m starting to reach over the counter to hand it to the man.)

Me: “Here’s your change, s—“

Regular: “HAH!”

(Both I and the man looked towards the regular and her boyfriend in surprise, just in time for the regular’s metal chair to crash into to man, throwing him to the floor and making him drop his knife. The regular had thrown the heavy metal chair right over her boyfriend’s head and into the man who had been attempting to rob us. This and the chair stunned the man long enough for her boyfriend to run over and keep the man pressed to the floor until the police arrived. This regular is pretty well known among the employees now, and I have yet to see anything else that could possibly top how stunned I was to this day.)

Hasn’t Got A Lot On His Plate

, , , , , | | Right | May 9, 2019

(I am the senior member of staff on the evening shift. I’m around 18 years old, but I look a lot younger. Two other colleagues are in their late 20s, but have worked at the cafe for less than three months, so I am the manager for the evening. A customer comes up to us with a completely clear plate.)

Customer: “I’m not happy with these pancakes.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but it appears you ate them, regardless. If you would like to provide feedback to the chefs, I will be happy to pass it along.”

Customer: “No, I want a new meal and a refund.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that; you have eaten the meal. If you had let me know there was a problem earlier, I would have happily taken them back to the kitchen for you or given you a refund, but you did seem to enjoy the meal enough to eat the whole thing.”

Customer: “No, this is unacceptable. I demand to speak to your manager.”

(My older colleagues are standing behind the service bar at this time and the customer is looking between them, expecting one of them to step forward.)

Me: “I am the manager on duty, so you are speaking to the manager.”

Customer: “No, you’re not the manager.”

Me: “I wouldn’t be allowed to say I was the manager if I wasn’t.”

Customer: “I want to speak to the other manager.”

Me: “There is no other manager. You’re welcome to come back later when my supervisor will be here; however, they won’t be on shift for a few days.” *gives them the date and time*

Customer: “This is unbelievable, letting someone like you be manager! You’re in high school!”

Me: “Regardless of if I am in high school or university, or if I’m a full-time worker here, it doesn’t make me any less the manager. If you would like, I can take your plate.”

Customer: *slams the plate on the bench and walks away*

Cookies Of Entitlement Crumble Easier

, , , , | | Right | May 7, 2019

(I work in a café as a barista. The café is a chain, but my store is just a small kiosk inside a grocery store. Almost all of our customers are people who just stop to get a coffee while getting their groceries, so we don’t get very busy. Most days I work the evening shift alone as I only get a handful of customers per hour and there is no need to have anyone else there with me. This means I have to work the till and the espresso machine myself. I am working one night when a regular customer comes in with his grocery shopping and orders multiple drinks to take home to his family. I ring him up, give him his change, and walk over to the espresso machine to start making his drinks. Another customer with a stroller walks up to the till. I smile at her.)

Me: “Hi there. I’ll be with you in just a few minutes; I’m working alone tonight.”

Customer: “I’ll have a cookie.”

Me: “No problem, ma’am. I just need to finish off the drinks I’m making for this customer, and then I’ll be right with you.”

(She immediately starts huffing and tapping her nails on the counter, making a big show of the fact that she has to wait. I’m trying to avoid looking at her but I finally do have to look over to make sure no one else is waiting behind her. As soon as she sees me look in her direction, she tries to get my attention.)

Customer: “I’ll have a cookie, please!”

Me: “I’ll be able to get your cookie in a moment, just as soon as I’m done making these drinks.”

(By this time, all the espresso is done brewing and I’m just adding the steamed milk and toppings to the drinks. I probably would be another two minutes, but she carries on.)

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I want my cookie now! Why can’t you stop making the drinks and come sell me a cookie?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s company policy that when only one person is working, we need to finish each order before taking a new one. Otherwise, if I got busy, I could end up standing at the till taking orders forever with no one to make them. It’s the way my manager wants things done, and it’s my job to listen.”

Customer: *starts yelling and swearing* “I’ll be talking to your manager about how rude and lazy you are! My son wants a cookie and we want it now!

(Her son starts to cry because her yelling has woken him up.)

Customer: “See?! You’ve upset him! My little boy has waited all day for his chocolate chip cookie and now you’re telling me he can’t have one!”

Me: “Ma’am, I never said he can’t have one—“

Customer: “Forget it! I’m calling your manager and I’m having you fired!”

(She stormed off in a huff and I handed the now-finished drinks to my first customer, who said something about being sorry I have to deal with people like that. I made a note in our communication binder about what happened in case she does complain to corporate about me, but she didn’t. Thankfully, I never saw her again.)

Molly And Noelle, Joining Forces

, , , , | Working | May 6, 2019

(My name is Molly. For as long as I can remember, I have always hated it. Passionately. One of the most annoying reasons is that as a child, whenever I was introduced to adults, they would sing “Good Golly, Miss Molly” at me. And they always thought they were the most funny and clever person for thinking to do it. One day, I’m at my favorite cafe and one of the waitresses who knows me spots me and smiles.)

Waitress: “Good Golly, Miss Molly… Sure like to ball!”

Me: “DON’T!”

Waitress: *still smiling* “Aw, why? It’s fun.”

Me: “I’m just soooo sick of it. Please, I know you’re trying to be funny and welcoming, but it’s just really grating on the nerves. You, of all people, should understand.”

Waitress: “What do you mean?”

Me: “You really expect me to believe that every Christmas customers don’t see your nametag and start singing your name at you?”

(She looks pensive and confused for a moment before I start singing…)

Me: “The First Noel, the angels did say…”

(The waitress’s eyes go wide with understanding. Her name is Noelle.)

Waitress: “Oh, God! Never again! I’m so, so sorry!”

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