(We are a 24-hour fast-food place and have a special menu from midnight to four am that is displayed both inside and beside the speaker box outside.)

Customer: “What time does your midnight to four am menu start?”

Me: “It starts at midnight and ends at four am.”

Customer: “Can I get [food item not on menu]?”

Me: “I’m sorry; we’re currently not selling that item. We’re on the midnight to four am menu.”

Customer: “What?! When did that start?!”

Me: “The MIDNIGHT to FOUR AM menu starts at MIDNIGHT and lasts until FOUR AM.”

Customer: “So I can’t get [food item]?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We only sell the items on the midnight to four am menu.”

Customer: “When does the midnight menu stop? I want [food item]!”

Me: *bangs head on cash register*

(Unfortunately, I have this conversation at LEAST three times a night.)

(It’s the beginning of the slow time of year and as a result, hours are being cut and people are being sent home early. On this particular day, I’m exhausted, have a long day ahead, and am practically begging to be cut.)

Me: “Hey, so… what are the chances of me going home early?”

Manager: “You’re are NOT going anywhere! I’ll send [Coworker who finishes the same time as me but started later] home early before I send you home early.”

Me: “So, either you love me and want to keep me here, or you hate me and want me to suffer.”

Manager: “You will never know…”

(It’s midnight at the 24-hour-fast food place. A woman and her husband order via the drive thru, apparently unaware I can hear everything they say. I’ve also just cut more than eight inches off my hair, streaked my hair blue, and begun wearing contacts two days prior and not even my coworkers recognized me when I clocked in.)

Customer: “There’s no one here! We should come this late more often!”

Man: “I want cherry pies and last time the dumb b**** at the counter told me they were discontinued.”

Customer: “Well, I’ll just ask for some, then.” *into the speaker* “We want two cherry pies with the order.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the cherry pies have been discontinued.”

Man: “GOD-D*** IT!”

(They pull around to my window to pay. The woman just grins at me.)

Customer: “Well, you know what they say about husbands! I can’t believe how empty it is right now. I’ve never been here past six or so before.”

Me: “Ha, yeah, it’s pretty dead around this time. Your total is [total].”

Customer: “Honestly, I don’t understand why you got rid of those pies. They were the best thing here.”

Me: *cheerfully* “They actually didn’t sell very well. We were throwing away more than we were selling, so corporate pulled them. Would you like to try our new strawberry pie? It’s pretty good.”

(Immediately, the woman stops smiling and scowls at me.)

Customer: “That attitude is exactly why I hate coming here. You know, I remember you from last time I was here and you had a nasty attitude then, too. This is why teenagers should learn some respect for their elders! Now give me my change. I want to recount it and make sure you didn’t pocket any of it.”

Me: “Well, first off, you can’t have remembered me since you said twice that it’s your first time here past dinner time and I only work third shift. Meaning I don’t come in until ten pm.”

Customer: “Well—”

Me: “Second: I’m twenty-two and have been nothing but polite to you this entire time even after I heard your husband call one of my coworkers a dumb b**** for no reason.”

Customer: “I—”

Me: “And finally, your total was [total], meaning your change is $2.37. One dollar, two dollars, twenty five, thirty five, six, and seven. Here you go, have a nice night, and try to remember to respect the people who handle your food.” *slams window shut*

(I work with a lot of young students aged 16-18. One shift I receive a few complaints from customers with young children, complaining that they and their children can hear my colleagues’ inappropriate conversations about their weekend partying — including stories about sex and drugs. I call a meeting with my colleagues to talk to them about this.)

Me: “Now, you know I don’t have a problem with you guys talking a bit on shift so long as you keep working. But you shouldn’t have personal conversations within earshot of customers.”

Colleague #1: “Why not? If we’re allowed to talk then we’re gonna talk!”

Me: “Like I said, I have no problem with you talking while you work. I know you’re friends outside of work. It’s WHAT you’re talking about that’s the issue.”

Colleague #2: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, we’ve had some complaints about your conversations. Parents have complained that they can hear you talking about sex and drugs and how ‘wasted’ and ‘f***ed up’ you were. That’s not an appropriate conversation to have at work — especially in a family restaurant!”

Colleague #1: “Well, it’s their fault!”

Me: “What?”

Colleague #1: “Why are they listening to our private conversations?! They should mind their own business!”

Colleague #2: “Yeah! It’s rude! It’s illegal, innit?”

Me: “You are loudly talking, and swearing, about having sex and doing drugs, whilst serving our customers and their small children. That’s completely unacceptable!”

Colleague #1: “Well, they shouldn’t be listening to our conversations!”

Me: “…Wow.”

(I work at a very well known fast food place and am almost always the order taker and cashier during night shifts. One of my regular customers always gets the same thing: large coffee, seven creams and seven sugars. One time she said she wanted to try the iced coffee we have and wanted her usual.)

Me: “So you have hot coffee and cold coffee in on order. Makes me think of Katy Perry.”

Customer: *laughs* “You’re right; I didn’t think of that.”

Me: *jokingly* “Next time you want to order this you should ask for a ‘Katy Perry Order.’”

Customer: “I might just do that!”

(A couple nights later:)

Me: “Thank you for stopping at [Restaurant]. Order when you’re ready!”

Customer: “Yeah. I’d like one Katy Perry order, please!”

(I smile at it to this day and she still comes through with that order.)