This happens in about 1995, at a famous New England “coffee and donut” chain. On Monday, they just introduced their new frozen coffee drink. It’s been heavily advertised on TV all week, and the store is plastered with posters announcing its availability, including a huge one hanging above the order counter.

This occurs on Saturday, five days after the new drink’s introduction. It comes in plain coffee, mocha, and caramel flavors.

Me: “I’ll have a large mocha [frozen coffee drink].”

The employee gives me a deer-in-headlights look.

Me: “Ah, a large mocha [frozen coffee drink].”

Still confused, the employee looks around, clearly not understanding me.

I point to the HUGE sign hanging right above his head. 

Me: “I want one of those in mocha, large!”

The employee, still with the deer-in-the-headlights look, reaches under the counter and hands me a package of sweetener. Yes, he actually handed me a package of sweetener!

Me: “Ah, no, that.”

I point again to the sign above his head.

Shift Manager: “I’m sorry, I’ll get it for you. You said a large mocha [frozen coffee drink], correct?”

Me: “Yes, thank you!”

I finally got my drink and it was delicious. I’ve been getting them ever since but with far less difficulty than this occasion.

A few years ago, a couple of friends and I go on holiday to London. While the flight itself and the customs have been pretty normal, once we are on the way to the city, my friend starts to have a pretty heavy nosebleed. While it’s managed pretty well, it’s still enough to make him look a bit pale; we decide to postpone lunch and get straight to the hotel so that he can rest and recover a bit.

We three enter the tiny hotel’s lobby, and I can already see the receptionist’s eyes widen.

Receptionist: “Um… do you guys need some help? Water? A towel?”

Bleeding Friend: “That would be nice, yeah… Where I can get it?”

The receptionist points to the dining room downstairs, which my friend wobbly descends as he tries to avoid scattering any possible blood droplets. The receptionist then turns to me and my other friend.

Receptionist: “Do I need to call 111? Or is he full of coke?”

Other Friend: “Beg your pardon?” 

Receptionist: “Just be honest with me. I won’t tell the police if he’s high; I just need to know in case he starts acting weird. I wouldn’t want to wrestle him down.”

Other Friend: “Uh… No, he’s not?”

Me: “Sorry, but you’ve never met somebody having a heavy nosebleed?”

Receptionist: “You don’t have to hide it, just—”

Other Friend: “Just what? He’s got blood leaking down his nose, for what reason I’ve got no idea. Can we please move on?”

Receptionist: “I don’t want to deal with him if he goes ape-s***, okay? I’m not his buddy or his tamer.”

Me: “Do you want to check us in, or do you want us to go take our business elsewhere?”

He sighed and let us do the check-in process. During our stay, the cleaners opened up our doors a couple of times without warning while we were in the room. While it was likely an honest mistake, I can’t help but suspect that the receptionist was trying to catch us in the imaginary act. Seriously, though, is it hard to believe you can get a natural nosebleed?

Related:
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 8
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 7
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 6
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 5
A Most Unreceptive Receptionist, Part 4

This happens around ten years ago, a few days before Christmas. It is one of the years when the UK receives a fairly hefty snowfall — by British standards, at least.

Since we so rarely get snow, we are always poorly equipped to handle the conditions. Almost nobody has even heard of winter tyres or snow chains, and people either drive far too slowly or far too quickly, making the roads chaotic. Salting and plowing happen on main roads, but back roads and side streets are rarely attended to.

This particular evening, my family and I are in a taxi to see some family friends for a Christmas party. The route from my parents’ house to the friends’ is pretty much ten minutes’ drive along a dual carriageway, and one we know well.

We’re all a little surprised when the taxi driver takes an unexpected turn down a narrow, winding country lane.

My dad is sitting up front.

Dad: “Why aren’t you taking [Obvious Main Road]?”

Driver: “The traffic along that road is really bad due to the snow, so I’m taking a less-travelled route.”

And, to be fair, the road is very quiet. However, because it’s quiet, no other traffic has created any tracks in the snow, making the road even more slippery than it would have been otherwise.

Despite the conditions, our driver is going quite fast. In all honesty, his speed would have been a bit too fast for normal conditions.

Dad: “Can you slow down a bit? We’re not in a massive hurry, and we’d like to get there in one piece.”

And for a mile or so, he does ease off. But as the road becomes a bit less winding, he picks up the pace again. Just as my dad starts to ask him to slow down again, the driver turns into a corner.

The car, instead of simply rounding the slight bend, spins a FULL 360 DEGREES, coming to a halt in the middle of the road. It is extremely fortunate that the road is a little wider and so quiet; otherwise, we’d have almost certainly hit either the trees at the side or another car.

My dad, surprisingly calmly, reiterates his request that the driver slow down lest he kill us all, and thankfully the message is received, and the rest of the journey is completed safely and sedately.

One day in the office my two coworkers:

Me: “We’re going to be alone with no managers today. I have an idea for how to celebrate!”

We would put on an eight-hour loop of the cantina music from Star Wars to see how long it will take for one of us to crack. We pause the music only when one of us has to answer a phone call.

At one point, I receive a phone call. After pausing the music and answering, I realise very quickly that this is a scammer. Usually, I just hang up; however, this time I have a devious thought. I put my phone up to the speakers and blast the cantina music at them. They quickly hang up.

Oh, and we lasted five hours before one of my coworkers cracked and begged for the music to be turned off.

This story is part of the Phone Scam Payback roundup!

Read the next story!

Read the roundup!

This story is part of the Star Wars Day: May The Fourth roundup!

Read the next Star Wars Day: May The Fourth roundup story!

Read the Star Wars Day: May The Fourth roundup!

I have to run some errands and I drag my college-age son along. As we are heading home, I stop by a fast food Chinese restaurant to get him food as a thank-you.

Me: “Here are twenty bucks for lunch. I don’t want to get out of the car.”

He came back with the food, the receipt, and $11.00 in change. The receipt showed that I was short by $0.76. I guess the cashier didn’t give him any coins due to the current coin shortage in the US. If it had been less than fifty cents, I would have let it slide, but I sent my son back to the restaurant to ask for a gift card for the missing $0.76.

I was surprised to see my son come back with $0.76 and not a gift card. I guess they did have coins after all.