Let Me Float A Question To You

, , , , | Right | July 12, 2018

(Our fast food restaurant, just like 99% of all other fast food restaurants, has three sizes of drinks. However, problems still occur.)

Me: “Hi, how are you? What would you like?”

Woman: “I’ll have [order number] and a [soda].”

Me: “All right, would that be small, a medium, or a large?”

Woman: *looks at me* “I want a [soda].”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, small, medium, or large?”

Woman: *leans over, and speaks very slowly* “I. Want. A. [Soda].”

Me: *slowly* “Yes, ma’am, I understand. Would you like that in a small size, medium size, or a large size?”

Woman: *impatient sigh* “Never mind. Get me a float.”

(Fortunately, the float only comes in one size, so I didn’t have to repeat the question a fourth time!)

Egging You On

, , , , , | Right | July 12, 2018

(I work in a drive-thru at a fast food store.)

Customer: “I would like a bacon egg burger.”

Me: “Was that a bacon and egg muffin?”

Customer: “Yes, but add tomato and ketchup.”

Me: “Okay, that’s $4.95. Please drive forward.”

(The customer pays, gets his muffin, and then drives away. He comes back through the drive-thru about five minutes later.)

Customer: “Excuse me. I ordered a f****** bacon egg burger, and you gave me this s***.”

Me: “I’m sorry. You ordered a bacon egg muffin with tomato and ketchup. What’s wrong with it?”

Customer: “I just wanted a burger.”

Me: “So, a hamburger with bacon, egg, and tomato?”

Customer: “Yes, just give me my f****** burger.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll get that out to you.”

(He gets his burger and drives away, but he’s soon back in my drive-thru.)

Customer: “How f****** hard is it to make me a f****** burger?”

(I’m tired of his ranting.)

Me: “So, exactly what do you want?”

Customer: “A f****** bacon egg burger.”

Me: “Yes, but what exactly on the burger and what bun?”

Customer: “A normal bun with bacon, egg, burger, tomato, and ketchup.”

Me: “Right, I’ll get that to you.”

(I then go make a quarter-pound burger with no cheese added, bacon, egg, and tomato, with ketchup, worth double his original payment.)

Me: “There you are; just so you know, next time you order just say that you want a quarter po—”

Customer: “I don’t give a f*** what I say; you should know what I want!” *drives away*

From Tears To Cheers

, , , , , | Hopeless | July 8, 2018

(It is a busy day where I work. I have endured a rude boss and a few rude customers. Finally, I am able to go out into the lobby to stock and clean it. While I am cleaning by the soda machines and condiment bar, a little boy of around five years old sees me crying to myself. Once they grab their orders, the boy and the older lady with him walk by me while I continue stocking the condiment bar. I feel a tap on my shoulder.)

Older Lady: “Are you okay, miss?”

Me: *thinking I’m not okay but if I say anything I’ll get in trouble* “I’m great, and I’m doing okay… Why?”

Older Lady: “My grandson said, ‘Grandma, I think that lady is crying; is she okay?’”

Me: *heart melts and I smile finally* “Please tell him that I’m fine, ma’am, and I appreciate his kind thoughts.”

Older Lady: *sees straight through me* “I hope your day gets better, miss.”

(I get more customers and deal with their orders, or stock behind counter. I finally get a chance to finish the lobby, and when I go back to the condiment bar she walks up to me.)

Older Lady: “My grandson felt really bad, and demanded we get you this from his allowance.” *gives me a super cute plushie giraffe keychain*

Me: “Oh, thank you, but I can’t.”

Older Lady: “He told me to make sure the nice lady up front got this from him.”

Me: *smiling* “Tell your wonderful grandson, ‘Thank you very much!’ He made my day a little sweeter!”

Older Lady: “I will. Thank you, miss; you’re doing a good job up there.”

Unfiltered Story #116236

, , , | Unfiltered | July 7, 2018

(This happened on Easter Sunday during a night shift)

I was working the till when a rush of customers started. The manager was on break and my two coworkers were running for me. One had to go and cook a food order, and just after that a lady came up to talk to the other, leaving me alone at the till. After a few stressful minutes debating whether new policy is worth being late with orders, my coworker returned from the conversation.

Coworker: Kill me now

Me: What happened?

Coworker: She wanted me to turn up the radio. I explained only a manager can do that. She wouldn’t go away.

A few minutes later we notice her talking to our manager, who is eating his dinner at a table. The manager comes behind the counter and adjusts the radio, and returns to his break. The lady keeps talking to him, with no break in conversation. The manager returns behind the counter, followed to the front by the lady.

Manager: I made a friend. Unfortunately.

Lady: (continues talking, now about how she makes lattes with her microwave)

Lady: And (Manager), did you know I’m a born again virgin?

At this point I walked to the back of the store to hide with my coworker. Eventually we came back up front, and our manager went to the back.

Lady (to coworker): You seem so familiar, do you know (Name)? You could be his twin you know.

Coworker (obviously uncomfortable): No ma’am.

Lady: Do you think you could sell me some lettuce?

Me: What?

Lady: Some lettuce. I’m on a diet you know.

Me (to coworker): Just get her some lettuce, maybe she’ll leave.

Coworker goes to the kitchen area and Manager returns from the back.

Lady: Could you sell me some lettuce? It’s for my dog.

Manager: No, sorry ma’am I can’t do that.

Later, after the lady had conversed with various customers, taken a newspaper and left:

Manager: I didn’t sell her any lettuce because if you give them what they want they’ll come back.

She is now known to us as the crazy lettuce lady


, , , | Right | July 6, 2018

(I’m working at a popular fast food place at the time this takes place. It’s very hot outside and inside, but due to my having psoriasis, I normally wear long sleeves to work. Today, I woke up late and was late to my six-am shift at work. The customer in this story has been drinking, and it’s not even nine am yet.)

Customer: “What’s that on your arms?”

Me: *tries pulling my short sleeves down* “It’s psoriasis, ma’am. What can I get for you this morning?”

Customer: “That’s not psoriasis; you’re just self-harming. This is psoriasis.” *proceeds to show me her forearms, which are clear of any sign of my condition*

Me: *turns my back to the customer, addressing my managers who have been watching* “I don’t get paid to be personally attacked; can one of you handle this?”

Manager: “Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to go finish your order or leave.”

Customer’s Friend: “Sorry, she’s had a bit much to drink.” *finishes order for the woman*

Me: *handing him their food* “Sir, it’s too early to be drinking, and regardless, I don’t get paid to deal with personal attacks on my health conditions. Have the day you and your friend deserve.”

(I didn’t get reprimanded for turning my back on a customer, and it’s the only time I have ever done so in all the years I’ve been a cashier. My managers didn’t even scold me for not saying, “Have a nice day.”)

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