(I am the horrible customer in this story, and I’ve never done anything like this since. I work retail and our store closes at six pm on Sunday. I have had a rotten day at work, but I am starving, so I stop at a not-so-fast food establishment that specializes in ice cream.)

Cashier: “What can I get for you?”

Me: “I’d like a plain chicken sandwich combo. Please hold the lettuce, tomato, and mayo.”

(Since it is a not-so-fast food place, I wait a few minutes before I receive my food. I grab my food, get in my car, and start home. At the first stoplight, I open my sandwich, only to find it has lettuce, tomato, and mayo. I turn around and go back.)

Me: “I asked for my sandwich to be plain. Bun. Chicken. Bun. This has lettuce, tomato, and mayo.”

Cashier: “We’ll make another one for you.”

Me: “No. I want a refund. I’ll go somewhere else.”

(The cashier processes the refund, but only refunds me for the sandwich.)

Me: “I’d like a refund for the whole thing. I’m going somewhere else.”

Cashier: “But there’s nothing wrong with the fries or drink.”

Me: *shoving the bag with my fries and the drink on the floor* “Now there is.”

(The cashier refunded me for the combo. I never set foot in there again… mostly out of embarrassment. I still can’t believe I did that, all these years later.)

(I work at a popular Mexican restaurant. I’m working the drive-thru. We sell regular tacos and taco supremes. The only difference between the two is the supremes have tomato and sour cream. That’s what makes them supreme.)

Customer: “I’d like two crunchy taco supremes, no tomato or sour cream.”

Me: “All right, so just two regular crunchy tacos, then?”

Customer: “No, I want the supremes; I want the bigger ones.”

(I try to explain that the taco sizes don’t change, just the ingredients.)

Customer: *slower and louder* “I want two crunchy taco supremes, with no sour cream or tomato.”

(I just gave up and rang up two supremes without the supreme, basically. He then ordered two soft taco supremes the same way. The guy paid extra for no reason, but it gave my coworkers a good laugh.)

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I work in a casual dining restaurant that has a drive-thru. This means that often people will ask if they can do more than one order per car. I legitimately love when people do this because really it’s the easiest way to split the bill and there is no reason at all to not let them order separately.

Today, I am working and I have already agreed to work an extra half-hour on a nine-hour shift. These three girls come through the drive-thru and they each order some food. At no point do they even ask or discuss doing separate orders. When they get to my window the driver hands me three different debit cards and asks me, “Can you please split this evenly between these three cards?”

I am pretty sure I twitched hard trying not to give them a death glare. The bill is over fifty dollars, an odd number, and my register cannot split a bill.

It can apply a payment to different methods, so I can tell it, “Take six in cash and four on this card,” but it doesn’t have a way to know the amounts without me telling it to.

There is a rule at my work that if you are caught with your smartphone out on the floor you will be fired. Or at least written up. I have no calculator.

I pull out my phone to do the calculation. I see my boss make a beeline for me, and before he even opens his mouth, I say, “They want me to split this bill three ways; one of them is going to get to save a penny.”

Meanwhile, I hit him with my best “I dare you to say something about my phone” face. This supervisor refers to me as “The Face of Drive-Thru,” and I have gotten accolades for my work there.

He nods, says, “Carry on,” and walks away.

I process the payment. The girls are pleasant for the rest of the transaction and don’t complain at all about how long it took, given we are less than 20 minutes from closing down to a skeleton crew and running low on product.

When dining at a particular fast food restaurant, my late mother would always order a “cheeseburger with nothing on it but mayo and pickles”…  and then be surprised when it came with cheese.

We tried our best to convince her that she should ask for a “hamburger” not a cheeseburger, to no avail. After multiple confused exchanges at the counter, she finally took to ordering it as “a cheeseburger, no cheese, nothing on it but mayo and pickles.” Surprisingly, this worked.

(I’m the stupid customer in this one. I’m trying to kill time before I go into work that morning. I’ve already been awake for a couple hours but I am still tired.)

Me: “Could I have just a [breakfast item], please?”

Cashier: “Sure. Is that for here or to go?”

Me: “To here.”

Cashier: *confused* “So… is that…”

Me: *realizing what I said, getting more flustered* “Oh, I mean… for here. I’m really sorry.”

(I walked away after paying, but I was embarrassed for a while after. I didn’t mean to confuse the poor woman!)