A new client is registering her cat. We have to ask basic details like breed, age, etc.
Me: “…and what colour is he?”
Client: “Ooh, I don’t know what colour you’d call it. He looks just like a lion!”
Me: “So shall I put ginger?”
Client: “No, no, he’s black and grey!”
I am a shift manager for one of the larger fast-food companies, almost exclusively working overnight shifts. That means that I get the usual assortment of drunks, stoners, and general oddballs you expect to encounter at three in the morning. I’m on first-name terms with the majority of the police also working nights in the local area due to my company offering them free coffees.
On this particular evening, three men come in at around 3:30 am. They’re extremely drunk, but they order their food without issue and sit down and eat. However, one of them decides naptime is in order and lies down on one of the benches and falls asleep. After finishing their food, the other two pile on top of him to create a triple stack of drunk guys. Since they’ve caused no issues, I just leave them be and carry on with my work.
Fast forward to about 5:00 am. A pair of police officers come in for coffee and ask me if I want the still-sleeping man-stack moved on.
I point at the guy in the middle and say, “That’s my coworker.” He’s another shift manager.
Then, I point at the guy on top and say, “That’s my boss.” He’s the assistant store manager.
Finally, I point at the guy on the bottom and say, “That’s my brother; he’s also at work in two hours, so if anything, he’s early.”
This story is part of our Best Of September 2020 roundup!
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My coworker and I work at a supermarket in a village where most people are extremely religious. I am the manager, watching this discussion between my coworker, who has a rainbow pride flag badge on her, and an old lady.
Coworker: “…and your total will be £13.57, madam.”
Old Lady: “Oka—” *Screams* “No! I will not be served by a devil follower!”
Coworker: *Confused* “Madam, I will have to ask you to stop shou—”
Old Lady: “Shut up, you little devil b****! Get me your manager!”
Me: “No need, ma’am. What seems to be the problem?”
Old Lady: “This [Indian racial slur] is a disgrace to your store! She is a lesbian! She is a sin and will burn in eternal Hell! Fire her right now or I will tell God about it!”
Me: “Ma’am, not that it matters, but my coworker is not gay. Second of all, I will have to ask you to leave now before I call security for your language and rudeness to my staff. Get out.”
Old Lady: “She has a f****** devil badge on her! Of course, she is! And I am one of your regular customers! If you don’t fire her, you will lose a paying customer and you will burn in the eternal flame of Hell like she will!”
Me: “She supports gay rights; it doesn’t mean she’s gay. I support animal rights, but do I look like a f****** alpaca to you?!”
The lady turned red in the face and continued swearing at me and my coworker. Then, she took a vase off a shelf and threw it at her, but a man watching caught it in his hands. He grabbed her by the arm and took her to security. She left screaming and being violent but no one was hurt, luckily.
About ten minutes before closing, a youngish guy walks into the store, grabs some items, and comes to me to pay. It is 2013.
Customer: “Can I get a discount?”
Me: “Do you have a student card, sir?”
Customer: “No, I want an employee discount.”
Me: “Do you work here, sir?”
Customer: “No.”
Me: “Then I can’t give you the employee discount.”
Customer: “What if I said the owner was my wife?”
Me: “Unless the owner has had a complete sex change in the last two hours, the owner is not your wife.”
Customer: “What if I was Barack Obama’s brother?”
Me: “Sir, I’m pretty sure that Obama’s siblings would be people of colour. You are white.”
Customer: “You didn’t let me finish. I’m his brother-in-law.”
Me: *Raises eyebrow* “My previous answer still stands, sir.”
Customer: “Well, you should give it to me anyway. I’m important to the president.”
Me: “Good for you, sir. £8.40, please.”
Customer: “Why don’t you care more that I’m important to the president?”
Me: “Because he has no power over me or the store.”
Customer: “He is the president!”
Me: “So?”
Customer: “He is in control of everything.”
Me: “Only in the USA, sir.”
The customer gives me a blank look.
Me: “You are in England, sir. In the UK, not the USA.”
Customer: “Oh… okay, then.”
He gives me £10.
Customer: “Keep the change.”
Shops have started to open up after the quarantine, so I treat my family to their first take-away in months. The hype is unbelievable with queues at every store and traffic jams all over the city. It’s like they are giving the food away.
I stop by a walk-in sandwich shop a few days later. Inside, I see two women at the counter who both seem to be in their twenties. As I join the queue, it seems that the first is finished and the second is choosing her salad.
Woman #2: “No salad.”
Worker: “None at all?”
Woman #2: *With heaps of attitude* “Uh, no! Mayo! I want mayo on that.”
Worker: “Mayonnaise, okay.”
Woman #2: “More. More!”
The worker dutifully fills the sandwich with mayonnaise; at this point, it looks more like cake frosting. A thick layer covers nearly all of the meat and cheese. It looks disgusting and I must be staring, as the second woman glares at me.
Woman #2: “Hey, [Woman #1], you want a cookie?”
She glares at me again.
Woman #1: “Yeah, get me one.”
Woman #2: *Insincerely* “Oh, no! They only have six left! Oh, well, some people won’t be getting any at all.”
She looks at me like she has won some grand scheme.
Woman #2: “Give me allll six.”
They leave, cackling. I turn to the other worker to pay, utterly bemused.
Worker: “Did you want a cookie? I have more to put out; we didn’t have a chance yet.”
Me: “Not really, thank you. I’m not sure what that was about.”
Worker: “Oh, they come in quite regularly. The one on the left, [Woman #2], scoops the extra mayo out with the cookie and eats it like a dip!”
I got my food and left. I wish I had chosen anything other than mayo.
Related:
A Big Mayo No No, Part 5
A Big Mayo No No, Part 4
A Big Mayo No No, Part 3
A Big Mayo No No, Part 2
A Big Mayo No No
