Sins Of The Father, Part 3

, , , , | Right | October 16, 2013

(I am the customer in this scenario. I have decided to have lunch at a local muffin/sandwich shop. I finish my order, and a couple comes in behind me with two children. The mother leaves to go to another store, and the children begin to run the length of the store without any input from their father. I finally get my food tray, and am stepping away from the counter, when the older of the two, the son runs into me from behind, full tilt. Barely keeping my balance, I cry out.)

Me: “Hey! Watch where you’re going, buddy!”

Father: “Don’t you f****** talk to my kid like that!”

Son: “Yeah!”

(The son aims a punch at my more tender areas. I thankfully turn to the side quickly enough to avoid the hit in the crotch, but the son ends up smacking the hard back of the cell phone in my pocket. He falls to the floor, holding his hand and wailing.)

Father: “You son of a b****! You hit my son!”

Me: “No… he just—”

Father: “Someone call the police! That man hit my son!”

Me: “Look—”

Father: “I saw you! You hit my son! I’m gonna—” *starts advancing on me with fists clenched*

(The owner suddenly comes over.)

Owner: “[Father], that’s it! I’ve had it! I’ve told you not to let your kids run around here, and now you’re threatening my customers. I don’t care if you’re related to me; I want you and your kids out of my store, now!”

Father: “But he—”

Owner: “Remember, [Father], you installed the video cameras for me last week. I watched your son run into and try to hit this guy. GET OUT!”

(I didn’t lose my meal, but I was able to eat it in relative peace after the father and the owner finished a protracted screaming match with the father losing and leaving.)

 

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Failed The Balancing Act

| ON, Canada | Right | September 9, 2013

(I am working at a busy café, serving a customer who is busy gossiping with her friend.)

Me: “So, your total comes to $4.95.”

(The customer hands me her pre-loaded store card without saying a word. I swipe for payment.)

Me: “Oh, it looks like your balance is reduced to zero now. You just owe $0.35.”

Customer: “YOU USED THE CARD?!”

Me: “Yes, you gave it to me.”

Customer: “Oh my God! I just wanted the balance!”

Me: “Okay, well you should say that when you hand me the card after I ask you for payment.”

Customer: “UGH! Like… I have change!”

Me: “Okay, I’m sorry that you weren’t aware.”

Customer: “Just give me the d*** balance!”

Me: “You have no money on the card. I told you your total. You gave me your card without saying anything. And so I used it. And now there is no money on it. And you still owe me $0.35.”

(The customer gets red-faced, pays the remainder, and still tries to act cool leaving.)

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Canada: America’s Hat, Part 7

| Québec City, QC, Canada | Right | September 3, 2013

(I work in a café in the old city in Québec, which is a very popular tourist destination. A couple approaches the counter.)

Me: “Bonjour, hello.”

Customer: “Hello! You take American money, right?”

Me: “Ooh, I’m afraid not. Would you like to pay with a card? We take debit and credit.”

Customer: “Why don’t you take American dollars?”

Me: “Because this isn’t the United States.”

Customer: “What are you talking about?!”

Me: “Canada is a different country. May I ask where you’re visiting from?”

Customer: “New Zealand.”

Me: “Right, I thought I recognized the accent. Would you take it kindly if I came to your city and tried to use Australian dollars?”

Customer: “NO!”

Me: “Well, it’s the same deal here. Now would you like to pay with a card?”

Customer: “CANADA IS PART OF THE UNITED STATES; YOU’RE ALL JUST IN DENIAL!”

 

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Not Drastic With The Plastic

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Working | August 31, 2013

(I have just purchased a pastry to-go. I leave the cafe and take a bite, only to find a large chunk of plastic inside, which nearly chips my tooth. I take it straight back and show the cashier.)

Me: “Hey, I bought this like a minute ago and uh, there’s a big bit of plastic in it…” *shows him*

Cashier: “Oh… okay.” *stares at me for several seconds*

Me: “Yeah…”

Cashier: *blank stare*

Me: “Yep…”

Cashier: “Yeah, it was probably from one of the plastic containers it came in.”

Me: “Oh-kayyyyyyy…”

Cashier: “Oh, did you want me to do something about it?!”

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Promoting Health And Safety

| Hampshire, England, UK | Working | August 28, 2013

(I work as a server in a cafe situated above a bigger superstore. I come over in a wave of hot nausea, and bolt for the bathrooms, which are downstairs in the main store. After I purge, I stagger out and go to the customer service desk to call the cafe upstairs. Due to health and safety when working with food, after nausea and vomiting, I’m not allowed back on the premises for at least 48 hours, as per the conditions of my contract.)

Manager: “Where the f*** are you?! You can’t run out on a customer like that! We’re in the middle of the lunch rush!”

Me: “I’m really sorry about that; I threw up really violently, and had to run to the toilet to keep myself from hurling on the customer.”

Manager: “Well, I hope you’re better now! [Other server] is working the counter alone, and needs you back up here ASAP!”

Me: “I was physically sick; I have emptied my system of every single food-like substance I’ve got, and can barely stand. I need to go home.”

Manager: “Suck it up! You’ve only got three hours left of your shift, and we need you up here!”

Me: “It’s not about me; I cannot handle the food because these ailments are highly contagious. My contract even says, very clearly, that I cannot come in to work until 48 hours have passed.”

Manager: “You’re not walking out in the middle of a shift! Get back up here RIGHT NOW!”

Me: “Did you hear what I just said? I’M NOT ALLOWED BACK UP THERE!”

Manager: “Get back up here RIGHT NOW, or you’re FIRED!”

Me: “F*** it. Fire me. I’d love to see that decision stand.”

(I hang up on my manager. Sure enough, the manager tries to have me fired for walking out on my shift. Once I point out why I have to leave, the area manager demotes her to a server, and promotes me to a team leader. I’m now her boss!)

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