It’s Going To Take A Long Black Time

| Australia | Right | June 3, 2016

Customer: “I’ll have a long black, please.”

Me: “Sure, was that regular or large?”

Customer: “A long black.”

Me: “Yep, and would you like that regular or large?” *shows sizes*

Customer: “Oh, regular, and to eat in.”

Me: “Not a problem. That’s a regular long black. If you’d like to take a seat I’ll bring it out to you.”

(I bring a long black out to the table.)

Customer: “Oh. I wanted a macchiato. Don’t you do those here?”

The Handwritings’ On The Wall

| Taiwan, Taipei | Friendly | May 18, 2016

(We’re doing a get to know you quiz. Each answer is written on a separate slip of paper that is put in a bag to pull out. Then a person reads off a random answer and tries to match it with someone. The first round, so far all the correct answers were matching with someone they already know but incorrect when guessing. The person is revealed if we are wrong three times.)

Me: “Favourite holiday destination: Moscow.” *points to Boy #1*

Boy #1: “Amazing. That’s correct.”

(Next round:)

Me: “First job: Babysitting my toddler cousin when I was 11. I was paid.” *points to Boy #1*

Boy #1: “How did you know that? And twice. I never met you before.”

Me: “Your handwriting.”

Girl #1: “How can you tell by handwriting?”

Me: “First of all, you should all have at least one answer which is in the same handwriting as another. We have ten people here and there are ten questions so it’s given we have at least two answers by the same person because we gave back the question if it’s our own. Also it’s extremely likely that we have more repeats.”

Boy #1: “I see. That’s smart.”

Girl #1: “Oh, my god, these two have the same handwriting.”

Girl #2: “Here as well. Actually three.”

Boy #2: “Here, too!”

(Etc…)

Girl #3: *my friend* “Wait. But how did you know it was his?”

Me: “That’s the second thing. When we were writing I noticed him using his left hand, no one else. This handwriting looks left-handed.”

(Cue more exclamation of surprises. Next round:)

Me: “If you had to get a tattoo what would you get: Some animal, maybe a parrot or snake.” *points to Girl #2*

Girl #2: “Now how did you do that? Handwriting again?”

Me: “Yes. I noticed you writing in pencil. Oh. And so did he.” *points to [Boy #3]* “But this handwriting looks girly.”

(Cue yet more exclamation of surprises. No one else applied my tactics besides matching the same handwriting with one they already found out. Yay for good observation and my dabble in handwriting analysis!)

Kiwidiot

| Australia | Right | April 29, 2016

(My accent is fairly odd, and I often have people ask me whether I’m from another state or country. Generally I tell them that I am not and they leave it at that. This customer is not so easily convinced.)

Customer: “How long have you lived in the country?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I detect a New Zealand accent. How long have you lived here?”

Me: “I’m not from New Zealand. I was born here. Actually, I’ve never even been out of the country.”

Customer: “Oh, so your parents are New Zealand, then?”

Me: “Well, no, they’re Australian, too.”

Customer: “That’s odd. I guess you must have spent a lot of time around New Zealanders, then. It’s amazing how much of an accent you’ve picked up.”

Me: “No, I don’t really know anyone from New Zealand, sorry.”

Customer: *looking angry* “Well, where did you get that accent, then?”

Me: “This… this is just the way I speak.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! I spent ten years in New Zealand as a girl; I know a New Zealand accent when I hear one! You shouldn’t lie to people!”

(She stormed out and I have yet to encounter her again. Three hours later, a new employee asked me if I was English.)

A Disability Of Decency

| Hastings, East Sussex, England, UK | Working | March 21, 2016

(My girlfriend and I have just become engaged so we decide to go have a weekend away to celebrate. My girlfriend has to use an electric chair as she is unable to walk long distances but gets very self conscious about it. It’s lunch time so we decide to go get something to eat in a cafe we are going past, and as we go through the door everyone stops and looks at us.)

Waitress: “Will she be staying in the chair?”

Me: *shocked* “First of all ‘she’ is disabled, not deaf. And second, that’s hardly a suitable greeting to a potential customer which you, my dear, have just lost out on with that remark. Goodbye.”

(We went to another cafe across the street and as we entered, everyone carried on like on like normal and the waitress talked to my girlfriend as if the chair wasn’t there.)

Dia-Path-etic

| UK | Right | February 12, 2016

(My family and I have gone into an unfamiliar cafe for a light lunch. My dad and I order toasted sandwiches; my mum orders an ordinary cold sandwich. After 10 minutes mum’s sandwich comes, but no toasties. A few minutes later my dad catches the server’s attention:)

Dad: *in a jocular tone* “Hi, we’re still waiting for two toasted sandwiches. You haven’t forgotten us, have you?”

Server: *angrily* “We’re very BUSY!”

(Five more minutes go by. Mum has finished her sandwich, but I and dad haven’t got our food. The server comes towards us with a toasted sandwich, but serves it to the woman at the next table.)

Me: *to server* “Excuse me, we’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes. My mum’s finished her food, and we still haven’t had ours. I notice you’ve served that lady who came in after us. Has something gone wrong?”

Woman At Next Table: “I have type one diabetes! I HAVE to eat now. How DARE you complain when I HAVE to eat something before I lapse into a coma!”

Me: “You have type one diabetes? Me, too. And what you’re eating won’t help you if you’re worried about lapsing into a coma. You need something sweet, not a savoury sandwich. Please don’t make our condition an excuse for bad manners. Nobody was talking to you, anyway.”

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