Customer: “Do you have any chicken tenders?”
Me: “I have some cooking right now. They’ll be out in just a couple minutes!”
Customer: “Okay, I’ll wait.”
(Once the tenders are done, I bring them out to see the same customer waiting. I place the tenders in the hot case.)
Customer: “Are those tenders fresh?”
(When I approach the deli counter, there is a man standing at the case and looking at the items available. He is on the phone with someone and I hear him listing off items. Since I already know what I want, I approach the cashier to order.)
Me: *to cashier* “I’d like half a pound of cheddar, please.”
(The cashier goes over to the case and starts weighing out my cheddar. While she is doing this, the male customer shouts “A pound of ham!” over the counter at her. Once she finishes weighing out my cheese, she gets his ham as well. Then she comes back to the register.)
Cashier: *to me* “That’ll be $[total] please.”
Me: “Are you sure? That sounds too expensive for half a pound of cheddar.”
Cashier: “Yeah, it’s half a pound of cheddar and a pound of ham.”
Me: “I didn’t order a pound of ham. He did.” *points to male customer*
Cashier: “You two are together.”
Me: “No, we’re not. I came into the deli after he did, and ordered separately.”
Cashier: “He asked for the ham while I was getting the cheese, so you ordered together. You’re together.”
Me: “I promise we’re not. I don’t know him. Please just ring me up for the cheddar.”
(She eventually re-did the transaction and rang me up for my cheese, grumbling the whole time about how we should “get our act together before we order.” Strangely, the male customer never corrected the cashier. He just stood there silently.)
(I have Celiac Disease, an auto-immune disorder that causes my body to attack my digestive tract whenever I eat gluten. My wife and I walk into a local deli known for its ham. There are two women conversing behind the counter and no other customers.)
Me: “Hey, I have a question. I can’t eat gluten, so I need to know if you clean the tongs and ladles before I order anything.”
Girl #1: “Um… No, why would we?”
Me: “Well, cross-contamination, and you’re kind of supposed to for health and safety reasons.”
(I’m already starting to get nervous, but I’m really hungry right now, so I push
forward.)
Me: “Could you just tell me what might have gluten in it?”
Girl #2: “What’s gluten?”
Me: “Uh, it’s anything that has wheat, rye, or barley.”
Girl #1: “Well, that’s everything here.”
Me: *blinking, a little dumbfounded* “What do you mean?” *I clearly see several products that have no sauce, and look like they were only baked or sliced*
Girl #2: “The animals eat wheat, right?”
Girl #1: “So that could be in the meat.”
Me: “It… doesn’t work that way.”
Girl #1: “Well, we can’t be sure.”
(At this point, I was fed up. I turned around and said my thanks for their help and got the heck out of there. I recently learned that the deli closed some time later.)
(Our delivery truck is late and we are struggling to find things to put in our hot food case. My assistant manager hands me a box of brownies left over from Passover, which was three weeks ago.)
Me: *opening the box* “These are the ugliest brownies I’ve ever seen. They look like burnt meatloaf slathered in dog s***.”
Assistant Manager: “They’re just BROWNIES, [My Name]!”
Me: “I’d dispute you on that point.”
Assistant Manager: “Whatever. Just put them in the case.”
(As I’m putting them in the case, I look at her over my shoulder.)
Me: “Bet you a million bucks somebody looks at these and asks, ‘What kind of meat is that?'”
Assistant Manager: “Okay, [My Name], now you’re just being ridiculous.”
(A customer approaches.)
Assistant Manager: “Can I help you, sir?”
Customer: “Yeah, what kind of meat is that?”
(She gave me a death glare. I walked away shrugging and laughing.)
Customer: “Hey, can I get a pound of crack house ham?”
Me: “Sorry… what was that, sir?”
Customer: *points* “The crack house ham, right here.”
Me: “Sir, do you mean Krakus?”
Customer: “Yeah, that one.”
(Not sure how I kept a straight face through that one.)
