Unfiltered Story #119372

, , | Unfiltered | September 4, 2018

(We could be frying, making sandwiches or salads, or slicing meat for a current customer, etc. But at least two times a day we get a customer that asks the insultingly brilliant question, “Do you work back here?”

My response, “No ma’am/sir, this is just where we hang out.”

Unfiltered Story #119360

, | Unfiltered | September 3, 2018

(I work in the deli of a popular department store in the Midwest, and our deli has two sides to it. On one side we slice meats and cheeses, and we serve salads to customers. On the other side, or the “hot side” as we call it, we have a cafe that serves ready to hot foods like fried chicken. I am working on the hot side and the deli counter is dead except for one lady, who is being served by someone working the counter. She approaches me and my coworker on the hot side, clearly miffed.)

Customer: “Excuse me, is there someone over here that can help me while he [Coworker on counter] goes to look for my ham in the cooler? I have other things to get.”

(I put on some gloves and go to help her, but as I’m putting my gloves on I notice another customer has stepped in line. We are only allowed to have two people serving one person if the line has no one else in it.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but someone else is in line. We have a policy that we can’t have more than one waiting on a customer if there’s more people in line.”

Customer: “Seriously? Can’t you just help me?”

Me: “Ma’am, I am sorry, but we have to wait on all of the customers in line.” *I start to serve the man in line*

Lady: “That is RIDICULOUS!”

(My coworker on the hot side eventually steps up and helps her out, and she calms down. Some people need to learn how to BE PATIENT.)

Should Have Ignored The Biblical Signs

, , , , , , | Working | August 24, 2018

(Our store has hired a new night manager. This happens the third night he works, my first shift closing with him on duty. We’ve just run out of the cheap ham that’s on sale, and I am pulling the sign advertising it off the counter, as is our procedure when we run out of a sale item.)

Manager: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “We’re out of this.”

Manager: “Put it back. Now.”

Me: “But we’re out of it. We don’t have any more.”

Manager: “It’s still on sale.”

Me: “But there isn’t any.”

Manager: “Oh, does that magically make it not on sale anymore?”

Me: “It makes it not here anymore. People are going to see the sign and ask for it, and we’ll have to tell them we’re out.”

Manager: “Not my problem. Put the sign back up.”

Me: “Not your problem?!”

Manager: “The Elect need not concern themselves with the problems of the Damned. ‘What fellowship hath Christ with Belial? What fellowship hath righteousness with wickedness?’ II Corinthians 6:15.”

Me: “Excuse me?!”

Manager: *rolling his eyes and speaking like he’s reciting a memorized speech to an infant* “Some of us have real jobs. Some of us finished high school. Some of us aren’t drug junkies. Put the sign up.”

(I stand there, slack-jawed, with a disgusted look on my face.)

Manager: “SIGN. UP. NOW. Or I’ll write you up for insubordination. ‘Servants, obey your masters in all things, not only when they are watching, but all the time.’ Colossians 3:22.”

Me: *muttering as he walks away* “‘Thou shalt not be a sanctimonious f***-hat.’ [My Name] 3:16.”

(I put the sign back up. Over the next hour, half a dozen people ask about the cheap ham and I have to tell them we’re out of it. Some of them get angry, and I direct them to the manager. Later that night he comes stomping back up to the deli, violently snatches the sign off the counter, turns on his heel, and stomps away without saying a word.)

Me: *loud enough for him to hear* “Is it your problem now?”

(That manager didn’t last long at our store, as he was soon fired for trying to steal liquor and steak. Apparently he told the district manager and the loss prevention officer, “The Elect need not follow the Law of Man but rather the Law of God.” They weren’t persuaded.)

Clean Up On Aisle Meta-Four!

, , , , , | Working | August 22, 2018

Coworker: “You know, this deli floor is like a metaphor for life. No matter how much work you do making it clean and pretty, tomorrow, some wretched waste of carbon who can barely tell their mouth from their anus is just going to f*** it up again.”

A Thick Slice Of Disappointment

, , , , | Right | August 21, 2018

(A customer walks into the deli and requests that I cut her five pounds of turkey. I show her the first slice and proceed to cut it as she walks away. About twenty minutes pass until she returns.)

Me: “Here is your turkey! Anything else I can get for you?”

Customer: *analyzes each bag* “These slices are varying thickness. Why didn’t you keep it all the same?”

Me: “Well, the slicers rely on the weight off the meat, and since you got five pounds I had to open a new one. Also, the slicers are required to run on automatic, which makes the thickness vary slightly, as well.”

Customer: *long sigh*

Me: “If you are angry, I would be more than happy to re-slice it for you.”

Customer: “I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed.”

(I was rendered speechless as she walked away. I have never felt as bad as I did then at my job since.)


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