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Nepotism Doesn’t Always Pay Off

, , , , , | Working | January 10, 2022

I found retirement to be just a little too slow for me. I wanted to travel more but my pension just wouldn’t cut it. So, I took a little part-time job at a small cafe to bring in a little extra cash.

Everyone was really nice, and it wasn’t long until I was pretty much running the place — dealing with suppliers, stock management, sales, cooking the lot. It felt good to be so useful again.

One day:

Owner: “I don’t want to take anything away from you, but I want to give my nephew a chance in the business.”

Me: “That’s your prerogative. What would he be doing?”

Owner: “Well, he would be the store manager.”

Me: “So, doing what I’m doing now?”

Owner: “Yes, but I don’t want you to take it as a statement on anything you are doing. Genuinely, I really appreciate everything you are doing and we still need you in the store. But you know, family.”

Me: “Sure, I get it. I will go back to doing my normal job.”

I am a little put-out, and I don’t fancy being managed by someone less than half my age, but this wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a bit of extra spending money, so I get over it quickly.

Unfortunately, his nephew was wet behind the ears and thought being a good manager was being ruthless and strict.

Me: “Did you get my holiday form?”

Nephew: “Oh, yeah, I will look at it when I get a chance.”

Me: “Okay. Just to remind you, I won’t be here for a week next month.”

Nephew: “Well, I think I will tell you when you’re not here.”

Me: “No, I’m telling you. I gave you plenty of notice to arrange cover.”

Nephew: “We will see.”

A week before I was set to go, he sent me a message that my holiday wasn’t approved. I just ignored it; I’d like to see him try anything. 

On my first day on holiday, I got a call from the owner.

Owner: “I heard you’re not at work today. Are you okay?”

Me: “Yes, I’m on holiday. I did put the form in at least two months ago.”

Owner: “Oh, I wasn’t told. Did [Nephew] know?”

Me: “Yes, I reminded him last month.”

Owner: “Oh, okay, thanks. And enjoy your holiday.”

I did, and when I got back, I found out that the shop had to close for most of the week and the nephew was nowhere to be found. Turns out he wanted a day off at the same time I was off, didn’t try to organise any cover, and then just didn’t open the shop. Food was wasted and customers were angry. I was back running things the next day.

How Dare There Be Other Customers?!

, , , , , , , | Right | December 29, 2021

I am staying at a hotel in Atlanta. There is a café in the lobby, and I go down to get my morning coffee. The door looks like it should be a “pull” door, but someone has to help me get in because it’s actually a “push”. While I’m waiting for my coffee, I see a couple having the same problem with the door, so I let them in.

The man says something but I think he’s talking to the barista behind me, and I’m listening to Fergie at an obscene volume.

Woman: “Helloooo?”

Man: “Are you doing service inside or out?”

Me: *Removing my headphones* “Huh?”

Woman: *Huffy* “Do we order here or will they come to take our order at our table?”

Me: “Um, you order at the counter.”

They look deeply offended by my work ethic, which is weird, considering my mullet is still wet and I have a**-out shorts, a shirt that says, “YEEHAW,” across the front, and a rainbow fanny pack with a Pokémon plush attached. I clearly don’t work there.

Barista: “Iced mocha and lemon poppyseed muffin?”

Woman: “That’s not ours.”

Barista: “I know. I’m trying to get it to the person behind you.”

Me: *Trying to get to the counter* “Excuse me.”

Man: “It’s not mine.”

Me: “Excuse me.”

The couple gives me a death glare.

Me: “Um…” *Tries to scoot past again, unsuccessfully* “Can you hand me my stuff?”

No luck.

Me: “Well, okay…”

I reached between them, invading all of our personal spaces; they huffed and puffed about it.

They gave me another sour look when they walked past my table outside. I don’t know if they genuinely thought I was a lazy employee, they thought the world revolved around them, or they just had a problem with my appearance, or a mix of all three.

Sales Soar When You’re Not A Snot

, , , | Right | CREDIT: Tiger_ruler711 | November 23, 2021

I was running a small cafe in a wee seaside town for what was SUPPOSED to be a month. It turned into nine months because of complications with the owner’s surgery, but it was mostly fun, fine, and a little eye-opening… until this woman came in.

[Woman] had decided to make her own business from home selling vegan-meatball-type things.

Me: “That’s lovely, but we make everything in our kitchen and cabinets ourselves, and we are proud of it.”

She would not accept this as an answer and actually threw two of these balls over the counter at me to give to the owner. I knew now why my friendly waitress called me from the back to deal with this woman.

After assuring her that I would pass them on, she demanded the owner’s personal number. There was no way in h*** I was about to give that over. [Woman] argued, and argued, and then argued a bit more, getting a bit louder in the process. Finally, I told her:

Me: “What about your rude bulls*** attitude makes you think we’d even consider working with you?”

As she was standing there with her mouth open, I saw, tucked under the till, a single blue card: one of our not-used-in-over-a-year business cards that had been discovered in an old folder a few days earlier.

I handed that over without a word. [Woman] snatched it like a child and stomped out and waited by our wall-length windows. The look on her face when I answered the call from inside the shop was the best part of the week. I’d already said she wasn’t getting anyone’s personal number, so why she thought I had broken and given her anything other than the shop number was beyond me.

In Hot Water Over A Hotdog

, , | Right | November 21, 2021

I was working at a store’s café and we were about to close. A woman approached the counter.

Customer: “I’d like a kid’s hotdog for my son.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re all out of those. They’re not very popular at night, so I don’t make a lot before closing, and I’ve already cleaned the machine. I do have regular hotdogs left.”

The woman was mad, but she left.

Fast forward to closing. I was in the middle of rushing to get things done because I had to clock out at a certain time. The woman came back with the store’s night supervisor.

Night Supervisor: “Just make the hotdog. Cook it in the microwave.”

So, I microwaved it, checked the temperature to make sure it was cooked, and gave it to the woman.

Woman: “I’m not gonna pay for that.”

And she just walked away with the hotdog. I literally didn’t have time to fight with her, so I just left a note to my café supervisor explaining everything.

I never got in trouble. In fact, all the café workers were mad at the night supervisor for interfering with our closing procedures.

Unable To Rest Their Local Phrasing

, , , , , | Right | November 18, 2021

I work in a cafeteria in a popular tourist place. We get customers from all over the world, many of whom speak English. While English is my third language, I would say I’m fairly fluent in it.

A middle-aged lady, most likely from the US by her accent, comes to the counter. She seems a bit upper-class in her dressing and actions, but as I’m from a small village in the middle of nowhere, I would have said that about pretty basically anyone from a bigger city!

Customer: “Could you tell me where your restroom is, please?”

I am very confused as I have never heard that word before.

Me: “Um… I’m sorry?”

Customer: *Scoffs.* “Restroom. Where is your restroom?”

Me: “Restroom?”

The customer now has a bit of an annoyed tone, like “I cannot believe you’re making me say it.”

Customer:Toilet! Where is your toilet?!

Me: “Oh! Just around the corner over there.”

The customer huffed and went on her way. I cannot remember if she thanked me because I was so confused as to why you would call a toilet a “restroom”. Who would go there to rest or relax?

Later on, I did find out that there are quite a few different words in English for toilet, and that “restroom” is another word for a public toilet. But I’m still confused as to why it was such a hassle to just call it a toilet.