Giving You Side-Eye

, , | Right | August 31, 2017

(I am in line at a local burger joint when I overhear the customers at the register: two women, one about 50ish, the other 80ish. Also, this is shortened, as they take about five minutes to order one burger.)

80ish Lady: “Can I have a double burger? What comes on that?”

Cashier: “Lettuce, tomato, grilled onions, cheese, mayo.”

80ish Lady: “Can I have the lettuce on the side?”

Cashier: “Certainly. Anything else?”

80ish Lady: “Can I get the tomatoes and mayo on the side too? No onions, no cheese.”

Cashier: “Okay. Will that be all?”

50ish Lady: “Can she get extra mayo on the side?”

Cashier: “Sure, just ask when you pick up your order.”

80ish Lady: “I want the lettuce on the side.”

Cashier: “Yes, ma’am, your total is [total].”

(They pay and go to get their drinks.)

Cashier: *to me* “Hi, what can I get you today?”

Me: “Hi! Can I get two burgers with everything?” *making sure the other customers are out of earshot as to not get the cashier in trouble* “Oh, and can I get all the toppings on the side?”

Cashier: *giggles* “I know right?”

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He’s Parked On That Opinion And Won’t Leave

, , , | Friendly | August 30, 2017

(My kids and I visit a park located on a street corner near some houses. While the kids are playing on the swings, an old man runs up and starts yelling at them. Annoyed, but keeping my composure, I approach him.)

Me: “Is there a problem, sir?”

Man: “You need to tell your stupid kids to stop trashing my yard!”

Me: *flabbergasted* “Your… yard?”

Man: “Yes! Don’t you see my house right there?! That means I own this place!”

(He points to his house, which happens to be situated next to the park.)

Me: “Sir, this is public property. Just because your house is next to it—”

Man: “IT’S MY YARD! YOU ALL NEED TO GET THE H*** OUT OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

(At this point, my kids were scared and crying, so I gave up and we left. We ended up going to the library instead. I still wonder about that man, though. Does he harass everyone who visits that park?)

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Unfiltered Story #92744

, | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

I had paid for website renovation and design services, which came with one rough draft and a final draft. You could pay extra to have a version beyond the final draft if you want any additional adjustments.

I sent in what I wanted my rough draft to look like, and received no response. A week later, I received an email saying they are still waiting on the rough draft, so I submitted it again. A week after that, I was told my website was complete and that they were grateful for my patronage. I told them I had only sent in one draft because they never got my first message. They said they did, and showed proof that they received both, but allowed me a “third” draft for free so that they could admit to being wrong without being wrong.

Unfiltered Story #91989

, , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

(I’m a customer in this story, though I am currently a retail associate at a department store and have been there for many years. It is nearly 2:30in the morning, and I am with a group of my friends at [Well Known Diner], and we have our checks in hand and are in the process of cashing out individually. A customer (who is clearly quite stoned) walks up, cuts right through the middle of us, and interrupts the cashier who was about to take my check and cash me out.)

Stoned Customer: Can I get a [very cheap meal platter] only with [substitution] instead?

Cashier #1: Hang on. *he calls to one of his coworkers to come over and take the guy’s order, as he is in the cash out process and can’t easily ring someone else up*

Cashier #2: What can I get you? *the customer repeats his request* Oh, actually we don’t make substitutions for any of our [low-priced meals].

Stoned Customer: *he takes a moment to respond, and when he does his speech is slow and just short of slurred; he is also blocking the card reader machine I need to get to, and doesn’t seem to notice my attempts to get to it* I’ve never had a problem with you people doing this before.

Cashier #1: *picks up a menu* He’s right, actually. See, it says right here that ‘no substitutions are allowed’.

Cashier #2: Yeah, I don’t know how they do it at [other diners in the franchise] but we can’t do that.

Stoned Customer: But I never had a problem getting this before, why can’t you just give me [substitution]?

Cashier #1: Because we can’t, it’s not allowed. We can give you [other meal at a slightly higher price] as it’s a ‘build your own’, but we can’t make a substitution on this one.

Stoned Customer: I don’t understand. All I want is this meal with [substitution], why is this so hard? I’ve never had a problem before.

(the conversation goes on for another minute in a similarly circular fashion, with both cashiers telling him they can’t make substitutions, and him insisting he’s never had a problem. finally, something occurs to me, and i speak up.)

Me: You know, they obviously just can’t make substitutions here, it’s that simple. So if you want your [substitution], you’d better just go some place else.

Stoner Customer: *stares hard at me without blinking for several seconds; i’m almost worried he’s about to get violent, when he turns away, mumbling* Fine, I guess I will then.

Cashier #2: Thank you so much, I couldn’t say anything but I’m so glad you did.

Cashier #1: That was f***ing AWESOME. *gives me a high five and my friends, who witnessed the exchange, follow suit*

Me: *laughing* God, that was such a rush. I could NEVER do that at my job, but I suddenly realized I’m not at work! I don’t f***ing work here, I can say whatever the h*** I want! That felt so damn good!

Unfiltered Story #91987

, , , | Unfiltered | August 30, 2017

Quote:
(One day on my dinner shift in the cafe I work in, I was taking orders from the registers along with my coworker. An older woman comes to my register while another lady was helped by my coworker and order a meal and a dessert that was about 10 dollars and hand me a twenty. I give her a ten dollar bill and she sits down and gets her meal. She then also bought a drink and hands me another twenty and I gave her the change as well. While taking out orders, the older woman calls for me.)
Customer: I didn’t get my change for my meal.
Me: Oh I’m sorry. But are you sure? I do remember handing you a ten dollar bill when I took down your order.
Customer: I’m sure *she then takes out her wallet and pulls out her money and shows me her dollar bills. She starts getting suspicious* I have the change you gave me for the drink but I don’t have a ten dollar bill here.
Me: Here, let me check the register to see if it over ten dollars then it would mean that I did not given your change.
*ten minutes later, I count the Register and it’s perfectly fine*
Me: So I’ve check the register and it does not contain an extra ten dollar so it means I did given you your change ma’m.
Customer: *starting to get pissed off and think I’m lying* Well I don’t have my change!
Me: Well, did you check if you put it in your pocket or your purse?
Customer: *checks in a pocket of her purse* It’s not here! It’s not in my purse and in my wallet! Maybe YOU dropped it around your register.
*starting to be frustrated I checked the registers counters and still no ten dollar bill. So, I go ask the lady who was help by my coworker that overheard the situation with the other lady*
Customer 2: Yeah, I did see you giving her a ten dollar bill when she was over there. I think she may have dropped it in her purse or on the floor.
*So I go back to the Customer 1 and told her what Customer 2 had said. Customer 1 seems bitter keeps eating in silence and I go check everywhere else that could possibly be but then I gave up since I was in the clear and was not my fault so I start helping other customers. Five minutes later as I was giving a customer a key to use the bathroom…*
Customer 1: Excuse me.
*I turn around and see that in her hand was the ten dollar bill. Turns out it was inside in part of her purse that she didn’t check the first time like everyone had suggested that it may have been in.*

So then she pick up her plate and dropped it off at the tray where dirty plates were put in and without any word and left without at least an apology. And I have not seen her ever since.