You’ve Just Been A-Salt-ed

, , , , , | Right | December 6, 2017

(I work at fast food place that is an independent building. We up-sell products like any business, but today we get some advice on exactly what we should be selling to customers.)

Customer: “Can you put salt and ketchup into the bag?”

Cashier: “Yes, of course.”

Customer: “Why would you say yes to that? You’re promoting unhealthy eating!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand.”

Customer: “You can’t be giving out salt! Salt will kill you! You should be offering pepper instead! This is ridiculous!”

Cashier: “…would you like pepper instead of salt, sir?”

(The customer scoffed and drove to the second window, continuing to rant about the negative effects of salt. Needless to say, he never clarified if he wanted pepper, so we put salt, per his request, in his bag.)

Your Argument Is Plastic

, , , , , | Right | December 5, 2017

(A husband and wife pull up to the store in a large SUV. They order their food, and are very nice throughout the entire ordering process. However, after they pay, I make the dire mistake of bagging their items when I am informed their food is to go.)


Me: “…bagging your things?”


Me: “Yes?”


Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry about that.”

Wife: “It’s just that plastic is TERRIBLE for the environment! I know it’s not your choice to use them; it’s the company’s, but it’s just so irresponsible! You’ve really upset me! I cannot believe you tried to give me PLASTIC!”

(As she continues to ramble about how she knows it’s not my fault we use plastic bags, but subtly hints that it actually is my fault, I recall the car she and her husband drove up in. I look out the window for a few long moments and eye her car before I look at her meaningfully.)

Me: “Is that your SUV? How many miles per gallon does that get?”

(The woman turned bright red, grabbed her food, and ran out. Her husband apologized to me about “all that” and gave me a tip before he left.)

Doesn’t Make Ad-Sense

, , , , , , , , | Right | December 4, 2017

(A call comes in ten minutes before closing:)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant], this is [My Name] speaking, how can I help you?”

Irate Caller: “I cannot believe that you would expose my children to such inappropriate television advertisements! This whole [new company slogan] is exposing my daughters to [oral sex], and they are only four and six years old. I should report you to the FCC!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but you are calling a local franchise location. The national corporate office creates the all advertisements, and we don’t have any say in it. I can help you get in contact with them, if you would like.”

Irate Caller: “Well, if you cared about your customers at all, you would take down those disgusting ads right now!”

Me: “Sir, I’m a local supervisor; I have no control over television ads. However, the number for [Restaurant]’s corporate office is [number]. We don’t have any interaction with them, other than buying our supplies, so you need to call them in the morning. I’m sure they can tell you who can help you.”

Irate Caller: “I’ve never seen such horrible things in my life, and you won’t help me. You’re harming my four- and six-year-olds, and all you will do is tell me to talk to someone else in the morning. I want these ads taken down now! I don’t want them to show up on my TV again.”

Me: “Sir, in all honestly, you’re just calling the wrong number. You need to call the corporate office. I’m sure they can help you.”

Irate Caller: “If you cared about your job, you would care about me! What lousy customer service! Don’t you even care about my daughters? Fix this now!!!!”

Me: “Sir, I’m a 19-year-old college student, working at a fast food joint making [just over minimum wage] an hour. I would love to help you, but I have absolutely no say over what is on television. I wouldn’t even know who to call to ask them to stop broadcasting them. Personally, I agree with you. I don’t like the new slogan. I think it’s dumb and I also think it’s inappropriate. However, I can’t help you; only the corporate office can.”

Irate Caller: “If you agree with me, why won’t you help me? I’m going to get you fired and, then sue for exposing my kids to [oral sex]! It’s not right what you’re doing.”

Me: “Okay, sir, if you call the corporate office, they can put you in contact with their legal department.”

Irate Caller: “Why are you doing this to my kids, you [swear word]?”

Me: “Sir, it is time for me to close the restaurant. I cannot help you and I really need to go. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, but if you call the corporate office, I’m sure you can find someone with the authority to help. Do you need me to repeat the number?”

Irate Caller: “You know you’re going to Hell, right?” *slams down the phone*

The Power Of A Name

, , , , , | Working | December 2, 2017

(I stop by the food court at my local mall to get lunch and choose a burger place. Everything is totally normal. I get my drink and wait for my food. They call my name, I get my bag, and it’s only after I sit down to eat that I realize something is wrong; I got my fries, but instead of a burger, there is a container of chicken nuggets. I glance at the receipt I got with the bag to confirm that it does indeed say I was charged for a burger combo, and then go back up. I’m nearly 40 years old, and none of the employees can be much over 20, mostly teenagers.)

Me: *walking up to the counter* “I’m sorry; I don’t think this is my food—”

(The employee doesn’t acknowledge me, but starts talking through the window to the guy in the kitchen. That’s fine; they’re busy, it’s loud, she may not have heard me before she started talking, and it sounds like they’re talking about orders, not just chatting. I wait for her to finish.)

Me: “Hi, sorry; this isn’t my or—”

(The employee practically shoves a new bag into my hands, fixes me with a disapproving stare, and says in her most weary, chiding voice…)

Employee: “Yes, because YOU took the order meant for [My Name].”

Me: “Yeah, because I’m [My Name]!”

Employee: *eyes get huge* “Oh! We… we must have mixed up the bags.”

Me: “Uh-huuuuh! How about that?!”

(I really wasn’t annoyed until she addressed me like a misbehaving toddler!)

A Hurricane Of Confusion

, , , , , | Working | December 1, 2017

(This takes place the day after Hurricane Irma rolls through. Power has gone out throughout most of the town and recovery efforts are beginning to slowly bring the town back online. My fiancé, his mother, and I are driving through town, looking at the devastation, and looking to see if anywhere has power yet. At one point, we pass a [Fast Food Restaurant] with cars in the drive-through and in the parking lot, so we decide to get some fried chicken. As we pull into line, we can see all the lights on inside. While we’re waiting for the person ahead to finish their order, a woman in a large truck drives past the line.)

Truck Customer: “Hey, there’s no one in there; they’re closed!”

Customer In Line: “No way! I’ve been talking with an employee!”

(The truck driver leaves, and we wait a few more minutes before the woman ahead drives to the next window, and we pull up. There is a sign on the speaker saying they are closed until tomorrow due to Irma, but a voice comes on the box.)

Voice: “Welcome to [Fast Food Restaurant]! Go ahead with your order when you’re ready!”

(We placed our order, and waited a few minutes for them to respond. We spent a good five minutes waiting and trying to get the employee’s attention. Eventually, we got fed up and pulled to the next window to complain. Upon reaching the window, we saw that the restaurant was, in fact, empty and the kitchen lights were all off. The restaurant apparently had an automatic greeter that someone failed to turn off, as well as the main lights in the building. We drove off, laughing at ourselves for being accidentally pranked, the humor made even better when we saw that the line formed behind us was stretching onto the highway!)

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