(I am allergic to red onion and if I come into contact with it at all start having typical allergy symptoms (runny eyes and nose, itchy throat, etc.) but after a few hours I actually have trouble breathing. I am always careful to check ingredients before ordering and whilst cross-contamination can sometimes occur, it does not happen too often. I am ordering a kebab and have asked for meat, sauce, lettuce and tomato. This shop uses red onion.)

Shop Owner: “You don’t want any onion?”

Me: “No, thanks, I’m allergic”

Shop Owner: “Yes, but they’re very good for you.”

Me: “Thanks, but so is breathing.”

(I go through the drive-thru of my local hamburger franchise and order a cheeseburger and a sour cream and chive baked potato. When I get home, the potato is plain. Also, no sour cream, butter, salt, or pepper were included. I call and speak to the manager and explain.)

Manager: “You didn’t tell us you wanted the sour cream and chives for the potato.”

Me: “Wouldn’t ordering a ‘sour cream and chive baked potato’ kind of tip you off that I WANTED sour cream and chives?”

Manager: “No, you have to tell us.”

Me: “It’s in the NAME. Sour cream and chive is right there. I DID say I wanted a sour cream and chive baked potato; how is that not telling you what I wanted?”

Manager: “We can’t read your mind. I can’t credit you anything when you weren’t clear on what you wanted.”

(I am working as a cashier at a famous fast food restaurant. We have a special breakfast menu which is served from 5 am to 10:30 am exclusively and the main menu is outside of those times. A VERY drunk woman staggers in at 7 am.)

Drunk Woman: *slurred mumbling* “A burger, please.”

Me: “Sorry, I’m afraid we don’t have any burgers at the moment. We’re only serving breakfast right now.”

Drunk Woman: “Oh. I’ll have some fries then.”

Me: “Sorry, we do not serve fries at breakfast.”

Drunk Woman: “Oh… what can I have that’s like a burger?”

Me: “The closest I can suggest is a sausage muffin without the egg.”

Drunk Woman: “Fine, then, I’ll have two of them. And a bottle of water.”

Me: *thinking: yes, you need that water to sober up!* “Okay, that’s [total], please!”

Drunk Woman: *hands me HALF of a ten-pound note; it looks like it’s been literally ripped in half*

Me: “Um, this is half of a note.”

Drunk Woman: “Does it matter?”

Me: “Um, yes. Yes, it does.”

Drunk Woman: “Oh, okay, then.”

(She took her half of the ten pound note and staggered out, whilst we all watched, confused. Finally my colleague turned to me.

Colleague: “What’s betting that she thought half a tenner is worth a fiver?”

(I am working as the shift supervisor during the late afternoon on a Super Bowl Sunday. It is typically one of our slowest days of the year, so it’s just myself and two other employees working. A guest pulls to the speaker and orders. Because we have no other orders my cook makes his order right away, and since it takes the guest a little over a minute to pull around, I have his order bagged and ready before he gets to my window.)

Me: “Good afternoon, sir. Your total today is [total].”

(The guest hands over his payment, and I make the change quickly.)

Me: “All right, sir, here’s your receipt, and your change. Just one moment, and I will have your drinks for you.”

(I turn around and grab the tray with his drinks and see that he is already pulling out of the drive-thru. I lean out the window and shout for him.)

Me: “Sir! Sir! Your drinks!”

(The guest backs up to the window and I hand out his drinks.)

Me: “Here you go. Wouldn’t want you to leave without these.”

Guest: “What are you going to give me?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Guest: “Normally when you people mess up, you give me something, like free cookies or something. What are you going to give me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mess up. I told you I had your drinks and when I tried to hand them to you, you were driving away.”

Guest: “This is stupid! You owe me something. I’m missing the Super Bowl for this!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I understand how frustrating that is. I’m missing a Super Bowl party myself.”

Guest: “You’re really not going to give me anything?”

Me: “No, sir, I am not.”

Guest: “Fine! I’ll just call tomorrow. They’ll give me something!”

Me: “Best of luck to you with that, sir. Enjoy your food, and have a wonderful rest of the evening!”

(The guest glared at me for a few seconds, before driving off. I left a note for the managers for the following day. The guest did try to call, but my general manager told him that we would not be giving him something free because he chose to drive away without his drinks while I was trying to hand them to him.)

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(I work part-time for now and have several days in a row with no work. One day I pre-order a pizza from a chain that assembles your pizza to order a la Chipotle and then roll out of bed in my sweats to go pick it up. It’s busy; there are several people behind me ordering in person. I get to the cashier)

Me: “Online order for [My Name].”

Cashier: “Okay, please sign the receipt; here is your cup for your fountain drink.”

(I wander off to fill my cup, then sit at a table to wait for my pizza. After about ten minutes I get a little curious as it usually only takes five-seven for my pizza to be ready. I look up from my phone and see that the oven is empty. A manager sees me looking and calls over.)

Manager: “Did you order and pay?”

Me: “Yeah…”

(Cashier looks behind her and sees my pizza still waiting to be put in the oven.)

Cashier: “Oh, shoot!”

(I look back down at my phone to keep reading my book, but then the manager is at my table handing me a card for a free pizza. I try to say no, but he insists so I accept and go back to my book again. I get my pizza, I eat in store, and as I’m leaving I see the cashier now wiping down tables.)

Cashier: “Sorry again about your wait!”

Me: “Girl, you just saw me eat a whole pizza in the middle of the afternoon wearing the sweats I slept in last night. I don’t have anywhere else to be. Don’t worry.”