(I stop into a fast food place and order a combo meal that comes with, among other things, a medium drink. I then get handed a cup, and I stare at it for a moment.)

Me: “Uh, excuse me… Isn’t this a small?”

Cashier: “Yeah.”

Me: “Right… but I ordered the [meal] which comes with a medium drink.”

Cashier: “We’re out.”

Me: “You’re… you’re totally out of medium cups?”

Cashier: “Yeah, lots of folks ordered.” *takes a tone like he’s talking to a child* “You really should have come earlier.”

Me: “Right. Then am I getting a refund?”

Cashier: “For what?”

Me: “I ordered a medium drink, and you gave me a small. So, either I get something else to make up the difference, or I get some of my money back.”

Cashier: “Oh, just take the d*** soda!”

Me: “How about you get the d*** manager, instead?”

(The cashier huffs and disappears into the back. Eventually, someone comes up with my tray of food, and I ask if they’re the manager. Nope. The cashier has just up and vanished without telling anyone. Eventually, the actual manager comes up.)

Manager: “What’s the problem, sir?”

Me: “I was told you’re out of medium drink cups after I ordered, and—“

Manager: “What?” *calls to someone in back* “Hey, [Employee], grab another box of medium cups from the supply room!”

Me: “Are you saying he was just too lazy to even ask someone to restock?”

Manager: “Apparently. Sorry about the trouble; this isn’t the first time he’s been lazy.”

(The manager then handed me a large cup and insisted I take it. Honestly, I would have been happy just getting what I ordered, but hey, bonus soda. While I was eating I suddenly heard a lot of shouting in back, and after a minute the cashier went storming out, cursing up a storm and throwing his hat and apron around. Might not have been his first time being lazy, but I guess it was his last!)

(I’m at a fast food burger place that’s offering a two-for-[price] special on various sandwiches at various prices. My friend and I decide to split lunch since that’s cheaper than the combo meals.)

Me: “Can I get two [burgers], one with no pickles and one with no onions, two small fries, and two small drinks?”

Cashier: *frowning at her till and taking a LONG time to type this in, then angrily* “Anything else?”

Me: “No… Can you read that back, please?”

Cashier: *like she’s doing me a favor* “Two [burgers], two fries, two drinks. Total’s [way too much].”

Me: “Um… I thought those were currently two for five?”

Cashier: “Yeah.”

Me: “What size drink and fries did you put in?”

Cashier: “Well, you didn’t say so I put in large.”

Me: “I said, ‘two small fries and two small drinks.’”

Cashier: “Whatever.” *takes even longer to undo it and put it back in* “That’s [correct total].”

Me: “Thank you.”

(I pay, and pretty soon we get our food. They don’t mark which burger is which, so my friend checks since he’s a germaphobe and I’m not.)

Friend: “Uh…” *opens and checks the other one* “SERIOUSLY?!”

Me: “What?”

Friend: *points at one* “Pickles and onions.” *points at the other* “Pickles and onions.”

(I’m normally not the type to make a scene, but I am still steamed from the snotty attitude before. We head back up and thankfully catch the manager, who immediately has them remake our burgers. The cashier comes up and — before we even say anything to her so she MUST know she screwed up — starts yelling at us.)

Cashier: “Oh, what’s wrong now?!”

Me: “I said, ‘one with no pickles, and one with no onions’!”

Cashier: “You can’t do that!”

Me: “Yes, you can!”

Manager: “Of course he can!”

Cashier: “You can’t customize things when you’re hitting the special!”

Manager: “Yes, you can. I already showed you how earlier because this happened before.”

Cashier: “Whatever. I’m going on my break.”

(With that, she just walked off. The manager apologized and got us our burgers, along with a new set of fries to make sure they were still hot. Thankfully, we got the right toppings this time!)

(I get a kebab and join two ladies at a standing table in front to eat. It’s a basic counter-only place, so the three standing tables are where everybody eats. A man with crutches, missing a lower leg, joins. In order to eat, grabbing the kebab with both hands like everybody else, he rests his —  fully-clothed — upper leg stump on his crutch and sets his elbows on the tabletop. All nothing to write home about, but this seems to disgust the other two ladies at the table. They scoff and scowl, and as the man ignores it, they finally speak up.)

Lady #1: “This is disgusting.”

Lady #2: “Yeah, talk about losing one’s appetite!”

Lady #1: “You should be ashamed. Can’t you eat somewhere else so you don’t bother other people?”

(The man, hardened by such stuff it seems, ignores them, but I feel like I can’t.)

Me: “Are you listening to yourself? How can you say such things and still think you are in the right?”

Lady #1: “Well, if you don’t mind eating next to something disgusting that’s your business. It is simply our opinion that people like that should not flaunt their abnormalities around where everybody can see them.”

Me: “Well, sure, you are free to speak your mind, but with this ‘opinion’ you are just discriminating a**holes.”

Lady #2: “I can’t believe it. How dare you?! This is what Germany has come to, with all the immigrants and such!”

(Mind you, the guy is not in any way foreign-looking, not that that should matter.)

Lady #2: “How can you expect us to eat while he waves his disgusting stump around?”

(The dude is eating his kebab rather fast and does not acknowledge the whole thing.)

Me: “Yeah, you should not eat in his presence. I agree.”

(I know it’s not right, but I am just so angry. In a quick motion, I sweep the rest of their two kebabs from the table; they splatter over the outdoor pavement. The one-legged dude finally looks up from his food and starts laughing. The two women freeze and then explode into curses. They demand that someone call the police, that I should be arrested for destruction of property, assault, terrorism, whatever comes to their mind. Other diners look, one shouts for them to zip it, some laugh. One lady even starts pushing me, and another guest comes up and pulls her away. The employees come out from behind the counter and tell them to stop shouting. The man with the crutches stops laughing and holds up one hand:)

Man: “Stop, all of you. Stop. Here, I’ll pay for your food.”

(He got his wallet and handed [Lady #2] a 20€ bill, at least double the amount of what the two kebabs had cost. They sputtered but took the money without hesitation. They kept cursing, but left, as other diners were telling them to get lost, as well. I turned to the employees and offered to sweep up the food, but they were already at it and were all smiles. One told me that what I’d done was awesome. The man with the crutches handed me a can of soda and we chatted a bit. He’d lost his leg as a teenager due to an infection. We parted and he thanked me again, saying that I’d really made him feel like not all people are s***.)

(We’re in a food court of a gas station. I answer a phone call.)

Me: “Good afternoon. [Company], [My Name] speaking.”

Caller: “Oh, hi, are you near [Chain]?”

Me: *thinking she’s asking for directions* “Yes, we’re in the food court at the back, so if you drive—“

Caller: “I was there for lunch about half an hour ago, and I left my wallet and phone on the table right in front of [Chain]. Can you see if it’s still there?”

(There are about nine tables that could be “right in front of [Chain],” and all of them are occupied.)

Me: “All the tables have other people sitting at them.”

Caller: “But can you see a pink wallet and phone sitting on the table?”

Me: “The people at those tables have phones, but I don’t—“

Caller: “Is it a black [Brand] with a green case with a pink wallet?”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t see brands, and all the tables are occupied right now.”

Caller: “It’s the table right in front! Is my wallet and phone there?”

Me: “I can’t see anything except people holding phones, rubbish, and food.”

Caller: “What’s the number for [Chain]? I’ve tried calling [number], but they’re not answering.”

Me: “They’re very busy right now. I don’t have their number.”

Caller: “What’s the number for [Service Station]? They’re not answering, either. You’re the only one who did answer.”

Me: *people are lining up at my store and I’m the only one serving* “The whole centre is very busy at the moment.”

Caller: *sigh* “Can you see my phone and wallet right in front of [Chain]?”

Me: “No, I cannot see your phone and wallet, but I can ask the other stores if they have had anything handed in. I’ll call you back; what’s a number I can call you on?”

Caller: “Didn’t you hear me? I left my phone there!”

Me: *wondering how she’s calling* “I have a queue forming here; it’s easier if I call you back.”

Caller: “I’ll wait.”

(I serve five customers before asking the other retailers and the cleaning crew if anything has been handed in. No luck.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I’ve asked everyone and nothing has been handed in. I can take your number—“

Caller: “CAN YOU SEE MY PHONE AND WALLET?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t see your phone or wallet. I suggest calling [Chain] and leaving your contact number in case it shows up. Have a lovely afternoon.” *hangs up*

(I am a fast-food worker with a bit of a reputation of being good with words, especially coming up with parody lyrics. I work at a family-owned business, not a chain. My boss asks me to make a parody of a Christmas song as a holiday advertising stunt. I pick “Twelve days of Christmas.” Here are those lyrics:)

“On the twelfth day of Christmas, I ordered at [Restaurant]:
Twelve eggnog milkshakes,
Eleven cappuccinos,
Ten bacon doubles,
Nine strips with tartar,
Eight turtle sundaes,
Seven giant popcorns,
Six quarts of chocolate,
Five onion rings!
Four Snickers storms,
Three large fries,
Two chili dogs,
And an order of nachos with cheese!”

(However, inspired by this, I also come up with a version from an employee’s perspective.)

“On the twelfth day of Christmas, the drive-thru gave to me:
Twelve giant trailers,
Eleven window tappers,
Ten noisy engines,
Nine quiet talkers,
Eight shouting children,
Seven cups of pennies,
Six separate orders,
Five cars in line!
Four cards declined,
Three add-ons,
Two cars out back,
And a customer b****ing at me!”