A Formula For Embarrassment

, , , , , , , | Related | April 19, 2018

(When my daughter was born, my mother-in-law hated that I was breastfeeding her and would try to order me to get her onto bottled formula. A couple of weeks after giving birth, I bring my baby to see my husband’s grandmother. My baby starts crying while she is being held by her great-grandmother.)

Grandmother: “Do you breastfeed her?”

Mother-In-Law: *grunts* “Yes, she thinks it’s natu—”

Grandmother: *cuts her off* “Well, get your boob out; the wee thing is hungry, and booby is best.”

([Mother-In-Law] never chastised me again for breastfeeding.)

Diversity Has Hatred Of Racism In Common

, , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(It’s my third day, and my colleagues are telling me stories about bad customers and workers. One of my floor colleagues is Turkish but speaks perfect Dutch — the local language — with an accent.)

Turkish Colleague: “This guy is the biggest racist you’ll ever meet. The moment I open my mouth, he screams, ‘GET AWAY FROM ME, TURKISH PIECE OF S***!’ He’s banned from the restaurant, but he isn’t getting the message and keeps– Speak of the devil, there he is.”

Manager: “I’ll go tell him.”

(I’m part Russian, and I normally speak without a trace of an accent, but I can mimic one perfectly.)

Me: “Boss, might I try?”

Manager: “Sure. If you think you can get him out of here.”

(I go up to the man and start speaking Russian.)

Man: “SPEAK GOD-DANG DUTCH, YOU A**HOLE!”

Me: *with the most comical and thick accent I can do* “Very sorry, sir. I forget I should do Dutch. Table for one?”

Man: “F*** you!” *storms out*

Manager: “That went better than expected.”

Me: “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to leave. I was about to call [Turkish Colleague] to step in if he wanted someone else.”

Getting Them A Hot Slice Of Justice

, , , , , , | Right | April 14, 2018

(I work as a server at a chain pizza parlor. We’ve had our fair share of prank orders, rude customers, and scammers. A family of five enters the store to order. I am assigned as their server. They originally order their food for take-out, along with a two-liter bottle of pop. They then change their minds and want to eat in, instead. Since I’ve taken the order, I am assigned to serve their new table. As I walk up to do my required server intro, they are rude right away. This happens often, but how they react is off-base.)

Mother: “Don’t bother with the introduction; just get us our food and some glasses with ice for our pop.”

Me: “Well, my name is [My Name], and I’ll be your server. Just let me make sure with my manager that I can do that, since we sell our pop as fountain drinks for dinner.”

Father: “Why does it f****** matter? We paid for our pop already.”

Me: “I know that, sir, but we would lose money if everyone bought a two-liter when they ate in and didn’t order drinks. I have to clear it with my manager.”

(At this point, I discuss it with my manager and return to the table. The parents are glaring at me the entire way, while the kids sit quietly talking to one another.)

Me: “I apologize, but my manager says that two-liters aren’t allowed on the floor when eating in. I’d be happy to put it behind the counter for you and serve you drinks while you’re here.”

Mother: “You’re trying to take us for more f****** money after we already paid for our drinks?”

Me: “I’m not trying to do anything, ma’am. It’s company policy. I don’t get to make that decision.”

Mother: “Fine! Just take it and get us some water and our pizza.”

(She practically throws the bottle at me and I place it behind the counter. I take their order to them immediately when it comes out and ask if they need anything else.)

Father: “Our bill would be nice. We’ve been waiting forever for our food, and at this point we just want to go the f*** home.”

(I’m now sick of the abuse and slide their bill onto the table. I check my other tables and go in the back to start the dishes. I hear them approach the counter to speak with my manager.)

Mother: “Our server was rude. Our pizza was cold and took an hour to get out here. We couldn’t even eat it. And she wouldn’t let us drink our own d*** two-liter!”

Manager: “I apologize, miss, but our policy doesn’t allow two-liters on the floor when the purchaser is eating in. As for the other things, we could remake your pizza and give you a hot one for take out.”

(As they originally ordered for take-out, they’ve already paid.)

Father: “I just want my g**d*** money back. I ain’t paying for a s*** pizza my family couldn’t eat.”

Manager: “I can do that, as well, sir. Let me see your receipt and I will refund you for the pizza. But the other things on the bill I can do nothing about.”

(They calm down a little and finish the refund process. My manager tries to send me home for being incompetent. She was in the office the entire time this family was here.)

Manager: “Their food sat for 45 minutes, and I had to refund them! If you can’t serve properly, go home.”

(A coworker walks up as I shamefully go to clear the table, knowing they had their food the moment it came out.)

Coworker: “[My Name] was the best server she could be with how she was treated.”

(I bring the half of a pizza into the back and have my manager look at and feel it. It’s half gone and still freshly hot.)

Manager: “Son of a b****.”

(She stormed into the parking lot where the family was seemingly waiting for their car to heat. I nodded to my coworker and went back to work. The police were called and the parents were arrested. Turns out, they’d done this to several other restaurants in the area. The best part is, I got promoted for handling them with class.)

Chronicles Of The Doughnut Police

, , , , , , | Working | April 12, 2018

(I decide to bring in some cakes for my office, as a bit of a pick-me-up for the team. We’ve all been having a rough few weeks. One downside is my coworker who always takes it upon himself to offer other peoples’ food, but not before taking his “share” to ensure that he gets his first. I have asked him not to, and he sarcastically calls me the doughnut police or similar. Today he has outdone himself; not only does he take plenty for himself, he then disappears around the company to tell everyone to go to the office to get theirs, actually taking food from the people he works with every day, to try to make himself popular. As I see him through the window, sending worker after worker up to us, I have an idea.)

Coworker: “Where’s my cakes?! I left them right here?!”

Me: “I don’t know; it was weird. A lot of people appeared from nowhere; one of them must have taken them.”

Coworker: *angry* “And you didn’t stop them?”

Me: “What do I look like? The doughnut police?”

Getting To The Sauce Of The Problem

, , , , , | Working | April 10, 2018

(I return to my desk after lunch to see it in a bit of a mess. Only after putting a few things away do I notice something amiss.)

Me: “Did someone take something from my desk?”

Coworker #1: “Oh, yeah, it was [Coworker #2]. What did he take?”

Me: “My sauce. I can’t believe he would do that. Actually, I can.”

Coworker #1: “It is only some sauce, buddy. Calm down.”

Me: “Look. You know me. I don’t mind sharing; it just annoys me when people take without asking, especially when I buy stuff specially.”

(As we are talking, another coworker comes back off his lunch.)

Coworker #3: [Coworker #2] is having some fun!”

Coworker: “Why? What’s he doing?”

Coworker #3: “Throwing up in the toilets; something he ate.”

Me: “Serves him right. I had to buy that sauce online, it was so hot. I only use a drop at a time.”

(He ended up taking the day off, unpaid. He never took anything from me again.)

Page 1/1812345...Last
Next »