The Last Jedi Meets The Last Straw

, , , , , , , | Working | January 19, 2018

Over the winter break I went to see the new Star Wars movie with my brother and his fiancée. I was staying with our parents for the break, and my brother and his fiancée live thirty minutes from there so we decided to meet at a theater halfway between those locations. Neither of us had been to it before.

Ten minutes before the movie was to end, three people walked in and sat in a row in front of us. They all took out their cell phones and started checking texts and Facebook, and chatting with each other. It was incredibly distracting. I finally decided to stand up and get a manager to deal with them. On my way back into the theater I leaned over their seats and told them a manager was on the way. They all leapt up like they were on fire. When they turned to face me, I realized they were all in their late teens or early twenties and were wearing uniforms. They worked for the theater.

It turns out they were the cleaning crew. When we exited the theater, they were all standing by the door, looking down at their feet.

Taking Stock Of Your Laziness

, , , , , | Working | January 19, 2018

(I come out of the back room with my hands full of toys. One of my new employees sees me struggling and comes to help me.)

Me: “Can you stock those walking dogs for me? I have a lot more stuff to bring out.”

Employee: “Sure.”

(I go to the back room to grab more stuff, and when I come out I see him at the front talking to another employee.)

Me: “Wow, that was fast!”

Employee: “Uh-huh.”

(I think nothing of it until an hour later when I go to sign out and see the dogs thrown haphazardly in the corner of the back room. I grab them and storm up the employee.)

Me: “We clearly have a different definition of what ‘stocking’ means.”

Your Preferences Are Not The Toast Of The Town

, , , , , , | Working | January 17, 2018

(My mom and I are at a sandwich shop where multiple workers at different stations make your sandwich. My mom orders, and then I step up to the first station. Neither of us have been to this particular store in a while, but we used to come here fairly regularly and we both end up ordering the same thing we used to get.)

Me: “Can I get a six-inch teriyaki chicken on a flatbread?”

Worker #1: “Sure. Do you want that toasted?”

Me: “No, thanks.”

(She heats up the chicken, then passes the sandwich down to the next worker, who is supposed to put the cooked chicken on it and add vegetables.)

Worker #2: “Toasted?”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

Worker #2: “Toasted?”

Me: *thinking I misheard her in the noisy shop* “Are you asking me if it’s toasted?”

Worker #2: “Yeah.”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

Worker #2: “Do you want it toasted?”

Me: “No, thank you.”

Worker #2: “Are you sure? The flatbreads are better toasted.”

Me: “I’m good, thanks.”

(I order the vegetables, and my mom and I go to the register, where a manager rings us up.)

Manager: “Just so you know, next time, you should toast the flatbread. It helps cook them more; they’re better that way.”

(I don’t respond, but by this point I’m wondering why I’m apparently not allowed to have sandwich preferences. My mom and I pay, sit down, and start to eat our meal.)

Me: “I forgot how good this sandwich is.”

Mom: *jokingly* “How can it be good if it’s not toasted?”

Only Has One-Topping Brain Power

, , , , , , | Working | January 17, 2018

(I’m sitting beside my husband at home when he calls the nearby pizza restaurant to place an order. I can hear the whole exchange. It goes as follows.)

Husband: “Hello, I’d like to place an order for carry-out.”

Employee: “Okay. Is that for delivery?”

Husband: “No, I said, ‘Carry-out.’”

Employee: “What?”

Husband: “CARRY. OUT. You know, I’m going to place my order, go to your store, pay for my food, and CARRY IT OUT WITH ME!”

Employee: “…”

(My husband stares at me in disbelief. I try to whisper to him to tell the employee that it’s take-out, pick-up, or some other variant, but he can’t make out what I’m saying. Finally…)

Employee: “OH! You want to do take-out!”

(Predictably, the rest of the phone call doesn’t go much better.)

Husband: “Okay, so, for the first pizza, it’s your two-topping deal. I’m wondering if I can do double pepperoni for that.”

Employee: “And what do you want for your second topping?”

Husband: “No, listen. I’m asking you if I can do pepperoni for both toppings. So, put extra pepperoni. Lots of it. We want tons of pepperoni on the pizza.”

Employee: “But you get two toppings—”

Husband: *rolling his eyes* “You know what? Fine. Pepperoni and mushroom.”

(Unfortunately, there wasn’t another nearby pizza place we could switch to, so my husband went ahead and completed the order, but we haven’t gone back to that place since. Having worked in pizza myself, I’m not sure what was so difficult for this employee to grasp!)

This Place Is Not High-ly Recommended

, , , , , , | Working | January 16, 2018

(I’m at a fast food place known for their tacos, etc. It’s a little after midnight and I pull into the drive through.)

Employee: *giggles* “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]. Unfortunately, we, uh… we don’t have any food right now.”

Me: “No food, eh?”

Employee: *giggling more* “Nope. We, uh, didn’t get… the truck… Should be here in a few hours.”

Me: “I see.”

Employee: “So, uh…”

Me: “Yeah, I’ll go somewhere else.”

(I have worked in a few fast food places before, and I find it hard to imagine that a place like that was completely out of everything they offered. I’m pretty sure they were high and just didn’t want to make any food. But since I was also just looking for some munchies, I decided not to call corporate or make a scene. I just went to a different fast food place and called it a night.)

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