Wheat Versus Meat

| OR, USA | Working | March 15, 2016

(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.)

Asking The Meaty Questions

, | FL, USA | Working | March 13, 2016

(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.)

This Stuff Is Seriously Addictive

| USA | Right | March 4, 2016

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.)

Brain-Fried

| Dallas, TX, USA | Right | February 16, 2016

(The office building where I work has a deli in the basement. I’m standing in line behind a coworker. It is my coworker’s turn to order.)

Deli Attendant: “May I help you?”

Coworker: “Yes. Is there chicken in the chicken fried rice?”

Deli Attendant: “…”

Me: *to coworker* “Seriously?”

Coworker: “Yeah, that’s not what I meant to say. I don’t know what I wanted to ask.”

Talking Turkey About Your Earnings

, | MD, USA | Right | February 13, 2016

(A customer comes up to the deli counter, dressed in relatively nice clothing, and asks me for a recommendation on turkey. I have sampled most of the turkey in the case and can typically give honest recommendations.)

Me: “Well, I personally like [Brand] turkey — it’s got a pretty standard flavor, but it’s good, and [Brand] has a lot of options if you like spicier turkeys.

Customer: “Yeah, but it’s $11.00 per pound…”

Me: “True. If you’re looking for cheaper turkeys, [Store Brand] turkeyisn’t visible in the case right now, but we do have it, and there’s also—”

Customer: “I mean, I make incredible money, but I can’t justify spending $11 on a pound of turkey.”

(He looks around for a moment like he’s going to say something else, but doesn’t and storms off.)

Me: *turns to coworker* “What an odd thing to say.”

Coworker: “Yeah, that was weird.”

Me: “Well, I DON’T make ‘incredible money,’ but I’m gonna buy myself some of that turkey and live my best life.”

(My coworker laughed, and I sliced some and bought it before I went home that day. The resulting sandwich was, of course, very tasty.)

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