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This Bronco Bucked Back

, , , , , | Right | January 17, 2023

I answer the phone at the restaurant.

Customer: “I ate there yesterday, and you got me sick! What are you going to do about it?!”

Me: “I’m so sorry. When did you eat here, and what did you eat?”

Customer: “Fish and chips. I ate it during the football game.”

Me: “I’m so sorry. Did you see a doctor?”

Customer: *Long stream of swearing* “I want you to pay me.”

Me: “Wait, did you say during the game?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “The Broncos?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t open until 5:00 pm. The kickoff was at 11:00 am. There is no way you ate here during the game.”

Customer: “…s***.” *Click*

When Ignoring The Trolls Actually Works

, , , , , , , , , | Right | January 16, 2023

I am Hispanic, but I know about as much Spanish as your average Johnny Q. Public: “Como se llama,” “Uno, dos, tres…”, and that’s about it.

Yet when I started working in customer service as a cashier, I would routinely come across these types of comments:

Customer #1: *After misunderstanding something I said* “Oh! Sorry, it’s your accent. I’m not Mexican, after all.”

Customer #2: *Again, after not clearly understanding something I said* “You can speak English with me, not Spanish.”

Customer #3: *After discovering an error with his order* “If you can’t understand fluent English, then you just need to work in the kitchen or ask your boss to give you an interpreter to help you!”

And then, there was this woman. She was in a separate line, waiting for another cashier. He went on break as she was approaching and directed her over to me. She walked up to my register while wearing a twisted, sour expression on her face like I was openly picking my nose.

Customer #4: *Very slowly* “Can you understand me?”

Me: “I most certainly can! How can I help you today?”

Customer #4:What?”

I repeat myself more slowly.

Customer #4: “You’re not as fluent as you think you are, so just stop. And that’s ‘May I take your order, please?’ not ‘How can I help you today?’ You say that when you’re working in a retail store.”

She then proceeded to very slowly give me her order. When she was finished:

Me: “For here or takeaway?”

Customer #4: “…”

Me: “For here or takeaway?”

Customer #4: “…”

Me: “Madam? For here or takeaway?”

Customer #4: *Screaming*For here! And it’s called ‘to go’, not ‘takeaway’.”

Me: “Your total will be $8.50.”

Customer #4: “Can you break a $100 bill?”

Me: “No, I just started and don’t have enough—”

Customer #4: *Loudly huffing* “Can I have someone who speaks English, please?! I don’t have all day!”

That was when the customer behind her stepped forward next to her.

Customer Behind Her: “Hi, I’ll have [series of food items].”


Customer Behind Her: “I’m on my lunch break. You want to play your games, do it on your own time.” *Continues his order*

She loudly protested, only for the customer to continue talking to me like she was invisible. I smirked, canceled the first order, and gladly took the new order, also while pretending she was invisible. She ultimately gave up and stomped out of the restaurant.

It’s Cute That They Think People Read Signs

, , , , , , | Right | January 15, 2023

I’m answering the phone at the print shop where I work.

Me: “[Location] Printing, how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi. I’m trying to get a couple of small signs made — just simple text and, I dunno, the size of a piece of paper?”

Me: “Sure! You can—”

Caller: “HOOOOONK!”

Me: “—can, uh, email us a design at—”

Caller: “Yeah, that won’t be necessary. Can I just describe it? We really gotta hurry this process up. I’ll accept all liability of whatever if you just do the bare minimum to make it okay.”

Me: “Uh, let me ask my sup—”

Caller: “HOOOOONK!”

Me: “—my supervisor about that. Can you describe what you’d like?”

Caller: “Big bold letters. Bright background. Text that says, ‘Do not test airhorns indoors.’ That’s a— HOOOONK!”

He Wants To Use His Hands Because His Mother Doesn’t Use Her Mind

, , , , , , , | Friendly | January 14, 2023

I started my career as a manual machinist, and making things has always been my passion. Since then, I’ve done well for myself financially and have built myself an admittedly pretty extensive home workshop. I have a refurbished Bridgeport knee mill, a large metal lathe, surface grinders, and several other tools that would be typical in a well-equipped machine shop.

I have a nine-year-old son who thinks all of Dad’s big fancy tools are fascinating. Obviously, he’s not allowed in the workshop unsupervised and knows not to try to run any of the machines. Everything is kept locked if I am not there, but he knows how all the machines work and is very proud of that.

One night, [Son] has a friend stay over, and he wants to show his friend the tools. Everything is turned off and I am with them, so I let [Son] show [Friend] around. He walks [Friend] through what all the machines do and how you would use them (as well as a nice lecture about shop safety).

Once he’s done, we go have pizza, the boys spend the evening playing video games, and I don’t give it a second thought until the next morning when [Friend]’s mother comes to pick him up.

She storms up to me.

Mother: “What the h*** is wrong with you?! You have no right to endanger my son like that! He had no business around those tools!”

Now, I know that small children are prone to exaggeration, so I figure [Friend] oversold what all was involved.

Me: “All I did was show your son around my shop. None of the machines even had power. He didn’t touch anything; it was just a show and tell.”

Mother: “I don’t care! You put ideas in his head! My little [Friend] risked life and limb, and now he wants to use those blasted things! He is too smart to use his hands!

Me: “Well, I guess we have different levels of respect for people that work with their hands.”

I left it at that as I didn’t think either of us would change the other’s mind.

That’s Your Credit Score Down The Toilet

, , , , , , , , | Right | January 13, 2023

My fiancée and I are trying to get some upgrades done to our apartment. We’ve known the plumber who services our building for years, and we’re texting him from a group thread with all three of us. The plumber has made it clear that he doesn’t like receiving payment by credit card, and we’ve always paid by check in the past.

Fiancée: “Hi, [Plumber], two questions. [My Name] had his checkbook stolen. How else can we pay?”

Plumber: “Any kind of bank transfer, payment apps, or debit card usually work.”

Fiancée: “Okay, great, I can pay by bidet card. Do you have mine on file?”

Fiancée: “Debit card.”

Plumber: “No, I’ll send you a form. Is it still under [My Name]?”

Fiancée: “No, it’s my bidet card.”

Fiancée: “DEBIT.”

Plumber: “Okay, what was your second question?”

Me: “You’ll never guess what [Fiancée] wants installed in the bathroom!”

Somehow, he guessed correctly.