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This Guy Is A Total Zero

, , , , | Right | CREDIT: SnooDonuts5467 | October 14, 2021

My mum has a catering company, and when she has a big job, as it’s a family-run business, she will ask my sister and me to help out now and again when she needs it. We’re not fans of it because we don’t like people, but it’s my mum’s baby and we love her. This particular time it is a very chill wedding with an assembly line where we are divvying out my mum’s delicious food.

I can hear this guy in the line loudly talking about how no one wanted to be his date for the wedding, poor him, he’s such a nice guy, etc. He gets to my mum in line.

Guy: “This good looks wonderful! Are you the owner?”

Mum: “Yes. And my two lovely daughters are helping me today.”

The guy looks at me and then my sister.

Guy: “Well, one of them is lovely, at least.”

My mum, taken aback, continues on as if he hasn’t spoken and serves him. He gets to my sister — the lovely one.

Guy: “You’re so beautiful. How does it feel to be the typical, beautiful younger sister?”

She gives him a basilisk stare.

Sister: “Do you want a bread roll?”

The man doesn’t want to hold up the line, despite clearly wanting to carry on speaking to my sister, and he gets to me.

Guy: “I rate you about a four out of ten. How awful it must be for you to have a sister who’s a ten out of ten!”

I don’t think I’m ugly, and I do think my sister is beautiful, but we look very different. She is very slim, athletic, and tanned with bleach blonde hair with conker-coloured (brown) eyes whereas I have an hourglass figure, pale skin, and grey eyes, and I’m heavily tattooed, so I am aware I’m an acquired taste.

I’m not offended that he thinks my sister is beautiful — I think she’s beautiful — however, I am offended that he thinks we want his “assembly line” commentary, especially when he looks like a human version of Sea Biscuit.

I lean back.

Me: “You’re the guy without a date, right?”

I can see my mum twitching like, “Please, for the love of God, don’t be too harsh.”

He’s grinning at me with his friends all proud of himself.

Me: “I wonder which one it is — if it’s your lack of manners, looks, or personality that stopped you from getting a date when every else has one?”

I pause to put some food on his plate, and then I hand it back to him and smile.

Me: “I imagine it’s all three. Also, despite being a ‘four’, I’ve never not had a date for a function. Have a good day now.”

I never got to hear his response, as the line needed to get moving; however, the guy’s smile was now gone. Such a shame. I didn’t get told off by my mum. Maybe now he’ll have a better approach to women. I doubt it, though.


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Answered One Call Too Many

, , , , , , | Working | March 12, 2019

(I work in a small, four-person office for a restaurant and catering company doing events management. The owner is something of a control freak and tends to micromanage everything, which means that the busier we are, the more stressed out and neurotic he becomes. During our busiest time of the year, the holidays, it isn’t uncommon for him to be more of a hindrance than a help. On this particular day, we have several events happening around town as well as in the restaurant, one of which is a simple delivery. My coworker gets a call from someone at the company with instructions for the day. Unfortunately, the owner is crossing through the room as he rushes around, getting things ready, as she gets off the phone.)

Coworker: *to me* “Hey, who’s doing the delivery today?”

Me: “It should be [Assistant Catering Manager].”

Owner: “No, it’s [Catering Manager]. Why? What’s going on?”

Coworker: “Oh, it’s nothing. The person from [Company we will be delivering to] just called and said that when [Catering Manager] is getting close with the delivery, to call the manager and they’ll get him in the garage.”

Owner: “No no no, we’ll call her, and she can call the manager and tell them to let him in.”

Coworker: “But then, he’ll have to still call us?”

Owner: “Yes.”

Coworker: “So… you want him to call us when he’s getting close, so we can call her, and ask her to call the manager?”

Owner: “Exactly. So, you can just tell him that when he comes to get the food.”

Coworker: *long pause* “Okay.”

(We just gave the catering manager the number we had been given to call in the first place.)

H2-Oh No…

, , , , | Right | February 20, 2019

(In college I work for an offshore caterer. It is a Saturday in June, one of the busiest days of one of our busiest months. It’s the kind of day where we are always a little bit behind, simply because we have more deliveries than we have vans to deliver them. I show up to this customer’s house about fifteen minutes late.)

Customer: “Hi! We’ve been waiting for you!”

Me: “Yes, I’m sorry but we are slammed today. I see your guests won’t be arriving for another hour. That’s plenty of time for me to get set up and out of your way.”

(I begin bringing everything in and setting up the chafing dishes. She has a very nice table setting, and I’m very careful not to mess it up.)

Customer: “Are you sure that’s enough water in the pans? Won’t it run out?”

Me: “Yes, this is plenty, especially since all the food trays are deep; if you put too much in it will spill out all over this beautiful table.”

(The real reason is that the water keeps condensing and re-evaporating, but I don’t have time to give her a lesson in thermodynamics. I go out to get the trays of food, and as I am dropping the first one into its water pan, I can feel it hit the water, but it’s too late, and water sloshes out all over her table. I look up, stunned.)

Me: “Oh… um…”

Customer: “Oh, no! I put more in because I thought it wasn’t enough!”

Me: “Well, I did say…”

Customer: “Now my table is all messed up!”

Me: “Yeah, well, I’ll just empty these out and bring in the rest of the food, then.”

(She still tipped me, though.)

 

Has A Masters In Millennial Problems

, , , , | Working | November 7, 2017

(I graduated a few years ago, but due to the “experience problem” still haven’t managed to find a suitable job. Currently, I’m doing uneducated hospitality work, like catering, banqueting, etc. in a congress centre. One morning, I have a conversation about all and nothing with a colleague.)

Me: “Well, I like being treated like an adult, you know? I mean, my age and my master grade might be signs that I am an adult, don’t you think?”

Coworker: “You have a grade?”

Me: “Yes, university.”

Coworker: “Then, what are you doing here?”

Me: “Earning actual money.”


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I’ll Have My Steak Done All Of The Above

, , | Right | September 13, 2017

(I am working a woman’s 60th birthday at an upscale catering hall, taking dinner orders from my tables.)

Customer: “Filet mignon, medium rare-well.”

Me: “Medium well?”

Customer: *in the most hoity-toity voice imaginable* “Medium rare-welllll.”

(The woman is looking at me like I’m stupid, and I have little-to-no patience, so due to process of elimination, I jot down “MR” for medium rare and move on. [Looking back, I should have just put medium.] After the dinner orders come out, she runs up to me, and aggressively grabs my arm.)

Customer: “My steak is not cooked enough! It has pink!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. I’m pretty sure you requested medium rare.”

Customer: “Medium rare-well!”

Me: “There is no such thing as medium rare-well, ma’am. I guess what you are requesting is a medium steak. I’m sorry about that, I’ll put it back on the fire.”

Customer: *scoffs*

(I take the steak back into the kitchen.)

Me: *to chef* “Is there any such thing as a medium rare-well steak? Am I missing something?”

Chef: “Nope.”


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