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Way Worse Than A Bee In Your Bonnet

, , , , , , , | Working | November 22, 2022

When I am fourteen, I go on a school trip to Normandy to visit the D-Day beaches and various graveyards. For the duration, we stay at a very nice hotel that has a large enough cafeteria to house about forty students and ten teachers.

This incident occurs when we are eating dinner one night. We get a piece of baguette with each meal. I pick up my piece of baguette, but then I stop and put it back down.

Classmate #1: “[My Name], you’re not going to eat your bread?”

Classmate #2: “Yeah, you always eat that first.”

I pick the baguette back up and point at what’s wrong. The piece that I was given has a wasp baked INTO the bread.

Classmate #1: “Oh, dear.”

Classmate #2: “I’ll get a teacher.”

They start waving at the teachers’ table.

Me: “Oh, please don’t. I don’t want to make a fuss.”

Due to being at a low point in my life, I try to avoid confrontations or drawing attention to myself, but one of the language teachers notices my classmate waving and comes over to our table.

Teacher: “What’s wrong?”

Classmate #1: “[My Name]’s bread has a wasp baked into it.” *Passes it to her*

The teacher — who I don’t know, mind you — stares at the bread for a moment before getting a very angry look on her face and striding straight for the kitchen.

Me: “Was— Was that the best idea?”

Classmate #2: “Trust me.”

From the kitchen suddenly bursts a cacophony of angry shouting, none of which we can understand due to it being all in French, but we can definitely tell it’s coming from [Teacher].

A few minutes later, the teacher comes out with a new piece of baguette for me

Me: “Thank— Thank you.”

Teacher: “It has been dealt with.”

She walks off and sits back at the teachers’ table.

Later on, when the big trays of desserts come out, which are normally just big pans of sheet cake, I am given a big slice of fancy chocolate cake by an embarrassed-looking employee before they scurry off. I notice that the teacher has a slice, as well.

Me: “As much as I appreciate the gesture, I can’t eat all of this. Any of you want to share?”

So, alongside the regular sheet cake, I shared the chocolate cake with the five other girls at my table, and for the rest of the time we spent at the hotel, none of the employees would look at me and would always look slightly fearful of the teacher that came to my rescue.

Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 5

, , , , | Right | September 29, 2022

I work in a small cafeteria at a local tourist attraction. I have a tourist family from India come in and buy cheeseburgers. They sit down at their table and unwrap their food, and they all look horrified!

One of them gets up, brings his burger to me, and exclaims:

Customer: “This burger has meat on it!”

Me: “Yes, it’s a cheeseburger.”

Customer: “A cheeseburger should be cheese and bread!

Seeing as how they revered cows and were vegetarians, their ground beef patties were horrifying beyond belief for them. We gave them a refund and apologized for not having more clear signs on the display case.

Seriously, though, who comes to America and thinks, “Oh, look, BURGERS! I bet those don’t have any meat!”?

Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 4
Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 3
Don’t Have A Cow, Man, Part 2
Don’t Have A Cow, Man

Fish And Chips AND Gravy? What A Time To Be Alive!

, , , | Working | September 23, 2022

Today, I ate in my college’s cafeteria. The daily special was the fish and chips, which they normally serve with a good dollop of gravy on the fries. Not being in the mood for quite THAT much sodium today, I just asked the employee serving me for no gravy.

Her shoulders slumped. Apparently, the request was a bigger deal than I expected because she picked up her serving spoon and went to the back area in order to give it a thorough scrubbing.

Me: “No, no, no! It’s okay! I’m not allergic or anything! I just didn’t feel like gravy today!”

The relief on her face was immediate. And the fries were still delicious.

Showing All The Signs Of A Typical Oblivious Customer

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2022

I’m working in a cafeteria onboard a ship as a cashier. This is about ten years ago before we were able to accept debit cards due to bad signal, but we can accept credit cards. (Our company worked out a deal with two major credit card companies where our system would store the numbers and process them when we hit the dock.)

Our cafeteria is a bit different; you walk in the sides, get your hot or cold food, and pay on your way out in the back toward the seating. I guy comes to my till and tries to pay with a debit card.

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can only accept cash or credit cards.”

Customer: *Angry* “Why don’t you have signs?”

But he gives me cash, so I process his payment while talking. I point to the huge signs we have by the entrance.

Me: “We do right there; they’re the size of an adult.”

Customer: “Well, I came in this way.”

He pointed behind the cash station where the tables were.

I didn’t say a thing and just pointed to the sign beside me that faced the seating area. He made a giant harrumph and stomped down with one foot like a two-year-old, and then he marched off.

The sign? “No entry this direction.”

What good is complaining about signs if you aren’t going to read them?

A Very Nice Turkey Breast And A Very Pushy Lunch Lady

, , , , , | Learning | August 31, 2022

This is a school story from my childhood circa 1995, and it’s one of our family favourites. Mum’s side of the conversation has been told many times, particularly as it’s used as an example of my attitude.

When I was in Reception (age five in the UK), I was very briefly given school lunches. At this point in life, I was a vegetarian, and lunch at school was a sliced turkey breast. After eating the various vegetables and dessert, I raised my hand to let the lunch lady know that I was finished, as one had to do at the time.

Lunch Lady: “You need to finish the turkey before you can go out to play.”

Me: “But miss, I’m a vegetarian. I don’t like turkey.”

Lunch Lady: “You will finish your lunch. Otherwise, I will call your mother!”

What she didn’t know is that my mother was both a solicitor (a lawyer) and, more importantly, a vegetarian. Even in my five-year-old brain, things were on my side.

Me: “Okay, then.”

Lunch Lady: “Stay there!”

The lunch lady looked at me with disdain before heading off to the office to call Mum.

Lunch Lady: “This is [Lunch Lady] from [School]. I’m calling because [My Name] won’t eat his lunch!”

Mum: “What is it?”

Lunch Lady: “A very nice turkey breast!”

Mum: “Well, I wouldn’t eat it. I’m a vegetarian. Did [My Name] say that he was a vegetarian?”

Lunch Lady: *Pauses* “Yes. But what would you like me to do?”

Mum: “Don’t make him eat it!”

Lunch Lady: *Sniffily* “It’s a very nice turkey breast!”

The lunch lady hung up, returned to the dining room, and just looked at me with a level of frustration rarely seen when dealing with young children.

Lunch Lady: “Go!”

I left. And the next day, I started having packed lunches. I’m no longer a vegetarian but I still hate turkey.