Try Fitting It Through Your Onion Ring

, , , , , , , | | Right | May 16, 2019

(My roommate is treating us to lunch at a popular burger joint.)

Waitress: “Welcome to [Burger Joint]. May I take your order?”

(We both place our order for burgers and fries, with sweet tea.)

Roommate: “I want to add an order of onion rings to the order.”

Waitress: “6 or 13?”

Roommate: “Inches.”

(You could have heard a pin drop after he said that, despite me coughing after choking on my water. The waitress’s eyes are wide open in surprise from his comment as I get up and excuse myself. I come back a few minutes later after laughing myself out to find the roommate completely nonplussed about the scene he almost caused.)

Me: “[Roommate], next time watch what you say when asked questions like that.”

Roommate: “I didn’t say anything bad; I just answered her question.”

Me: “I’ll explain it on the way home, as it isn’t appropriate to talk about it here.”

(After we are done eating our meal, I stay behind as the roommate goes out to the car, and I approach the waitress and give her a $25.00 tip on a $40 order.)

Me: “I apologize for what he said; he didn’t know what he was implying.”

Waitress: “That’s okay. I got a good laugh and so did my coworkers.”

Speaks Volumes About The Next Generation

, , , , , | Friendly | April 26, 2019

(I’ve just moved and I decide to have dinner at a cafe-style restaurant near my new apartment. I sit down with my meal only for a girl around 12 years old to start playing a song in the same vein as Rebecca Black’s “Friday” on her tablet, seemingly at full volume. At first, I’m not sure if it’s really that loud or if I’m just tired and grumpy from the move, so I switch seats to the opposite end of the restaurant. It takes about two minutes for me to realize that no, it’s not just me, and people all over the place are glaring. After another couple of minutes and realizing that I can’t get through an entire meal with that, I go up to the girl, her mother, and her mother’s friends.)

Me: “Excuse me. Could you please turn your music down? I moved seats to avoid it and it’s still really loud.”

Girl: “Sure!” *starts turning the volume down*

Mom: *standing up* “No, no, my daughter can listen to her songs as loud as she wants.”

Girl: “Mom, it’s fine–”

Mom: “No, it’s not fine.” *to me* “Who do you think you are, telling my daughter what to do?”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m not asking her to turn it off, just down a bit so I can eat in peace.”

Girl: “Mom, it’s not a big deal. I can still hear it.”

(The mom kind of harumphed and sat back down, and her friends shook their heads and tutted their tongues at me, but at least it was quieter than the music. I went back to my table and noticed a few other people looking relieved. About two minutes later, I saw the mom reach over to her daughter and try to turn the volume back up, but the girl pulled it out of her reach before she could do it.)

Deaf To Reason, Part 8

, , , , , , | Right | April 9, 2019

(Our accountant is deaf. Every once in a while we get people wanting to speak to her. This is one of these calls.)

Caller: “Can I speak to [Deaf Accountant]?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we are not allowed to transfer people to her on account of her hearing disability; you will need to email her.”

Caller: “I don’t understand. I just want to pay my bill. Transfer me to her now!”

Me: “As I’ve explained earlier we can’t transfer you to her. She is deaf.”

Caller: “Why in the world would you hire a deaf person if you can’t transfer me to her?”

Me: “We are allowed to hire people with disabilities here at [Company]. You will need to email her if you need assistance with a bill. I will not tell you again.”

(They emailed her.)

Related:
Deaf To Reason, Part 7
Deaf To Reason, Part 6
Deaf To Reason, Part 5

An Oriented Playlist

, , , , , , , | Friendly | March 22, 2019

(My job involves running a lot of errands, and while I can usually handle it myself, I know that this trip I have a lot to pick up and will need help. I’m allowed to pull another employee, so we go get in my car, which is hooked up to my phone. When I start the car, the last song I was listening to starts playing: “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston.)

Coworker: “Oh, so, you’re a lesbian!”

(I burst out laughing and he was briefly concerned he’d offended me, until I explained that I was, in fact, a lesbian. I’ve just never been outed by a song before!)

Concretely Resolute That I Will Not Help You

, , , , , | Right | February 25, 2019

(Our customer base is an odd mix: angry, irrational, helpless, entitled, crazily demanding, and often any random combination of those elements. My department is on the far side of the store from the break room, which means I must cross the entire store to get there after I take a break and/or after I clock in for my shift. The cement aisle is right outside the break room. I have just taken a break during a miserable, hot day during which customers have yelled at me multiple times for no reason. I am exiting the break room to go back to my department. Two reasonably healthy-looking, strapping male customers are standing in the aisle looking at bags of concrete.)

Customer: “HEY! YOU! We need some of these! Come help us load our cart!”

Me: “Okay, sure.”

Customer: “Those!” *points at a skid of 80-pound concrete bags and starts to walk off with the other customer*

(I load up two bags, but as I said, I am fed up already, and tired, and frankly, it’s not my job to wait on anyone hand and foot like this. Plus, the bags are very heavy. I also have my own department to get back to, since no one else is working it while I’m gone.)

Me: “Um, wait. How many did you need? And could you please help me load these?”

Other, Nicer Customer: “Sure, but we only needed those two bags of that brand. We actually needed a couple of these down here…”

Customer: *whirls back in my direction, interrupting his friend* “WHAT?! How about you do your job?!

Me: *over it* “Tell you what. I will go back to my department right now and do my job, which does not include what is happening right now.”

Customer: “FINE! WHATEVER!”

(I turn to walk away, and there is third customer standing right behind me who just saw the entire exchange. He is grinning ear to ear and laughing.)

Grinning Customer: “Hi! Could you show me where the glue is?!”

(Glue, epoxy, etc., are all in paint, which is right next to my department.)

Me: “Sure! It’s right this way. Let’s go!”

(As we are walking through the store, he talks to me.)

Grinning Customer: “You know, I’m from Brooklyn, and hearing that exchange made me homesick. Nobody back there is fake or pretends to be nice when someone is an a**hole like that. You sounded exactly like someone from my old neighborhood. That was great.”

(I laughed, thanked him, and showed him our glue selection. He pretty much made my day.)

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