They Always Hunt In Packs

, | | Right | June 29, 2009

(I’m working at the fast food drive-thru with a particularly large group of cars in line.)

Customer: “It sure got busy all at once.”

Me: “Yeah, it happens like that.”

Customer: “You know why that is, right?”

Me: “No, tell me?”

Customer: “We wait around the corner until we have a group of about ten cars, and then we swarm all at once!”

(And from that day forward, everything made sense.)

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The Real Meaning Of Finger Food

, | | Right | June 26, 2009

(I work at a restaurant that specializes in roast beef. A customer is standing at the end of the counter, staring at the meat slicer.)

Customer: “Can I touch the beef?”

Me: “Sorry?”

Customer: “The beef. On the slicer. I want to touch it.”

Me: “Uh, I can’t let you do that.”

Customer: “But why?”

Me: “Well, we can’t turn the slicer off during the lunch rush unless we’re putting a new roast on it.”

Customer: “Oh, you don’t have to turn the slicer off, I just wanna touch the beef!”

Me: “Well, I don’t want to serve anyone a sliced beef and finger sandwich today, so tough luck.”

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Dysfunctional Doppelgangers

, | | Right | June 2, 2009

(An old, drunken man stumbles in to our fast food restaurant.)

Me: “Hello, how are you tonight sir?”

(He stumbles to the front counter, leans over, and stares intently at my name badge.)

Me: “Umm, can I help you?”

Drunken customer: *reads my badge* “Tahiiinaaa..”

Me: “…yes?”

Drunken customer: “That’s a really pretty name. I want your name. Sell me your name!”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t sell you my name… do you want some chicken?”

Drunken customer: “I. WANT. YOUR. NAME!”

(Suddenly, the drunken guy lunges over the counter and rips my badge off of my shirt and runs out of the store laughing.)

Me, to my manager: “I think I need a new shirt…”

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Tiny Pooch With A Super-Sized Grudge

| | Right | May 26, 2009

(I’m taking orders and money in the drive-thru booth during a rush. A customer pulls up to the window.)

Me: “Hi, your total is $6.54.”

Customer: *glaring* “I’m mad at you!”

Me: “Why?”

Customer: “I went through **** earlier, and they didn’t have any french fries, so I had to come here!”

Me: “I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Yeah! And he’s mad at you too!”

(She points to the back seat, which is completely empty.)

Me: “Yeah, um, he…he looks pretty mad, I guess.”

Customer: *snaps* “C’mere, Sparkie!”

(A little poodle hops up into her lap.)

Customer: “Tell her how mad you are!”

(The customer then holds the dog up to the window to show me how mad it was.)

Me: “Wow, um, alright.”

(She pays and I give her the change.)

Me: “Have a nice day!”

Customer: *smiling* “You too, sweetie!” *glares* “…but I’m still mad at you!”

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A Number 666 With A Side Of Brimstone

, | | Right | May 20, 2009

(After serving them their fast food, a woman with a family of six runs up to the counter, furious.)

Customer: “You! You stacked our food wrong! Now my kids are crying!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “Come look!”

(She brings me down to their table, where their three pre-teens are crying their eyes out and her husband looks incredibly frustrated.)

Customer: “Look!”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t see anything wrong with your food–”

Customer: “[Child #1] is supposed to eat first, but his food is on the bottom! We won’t be able to get it without moving the other things!”

Me: “I don’t think I understand.”

Customer: “He’s the first person on the left! He has to eat first, or Satan will claim his soul!”

Me: “Uh…”

(I decide to ask counter-clockwise around the table what everyone ordered, and hand them their food out off the pile.)

Customer:, “Oh, thank you! You will serve as a warrior of God someday!”

Me: “…right.”

(That family still shows up once a month or so, and suffice to say, I always run out to see what order they’re sitting in before I serve their food.)

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