(My mother and I go to the drive-thru to get a particular brand of drink that isn’t sold at many of the fast food chains. I wouldn’t call it an unusual drink but it’s not the brand’s most popular flavour.)

Mum: “Can I have two brown cream sodas?”

Cashier: “That’s not a thing. We don’t sell that here.”

Mum: “But we buy it here all the time.”

Cashier: “We don’t sell that. Ee only have sarsaparilla. I don’t know why you’re asking for that. It just sounds weird.”

Mum: “Go talk to the other cashier, currently making coffees. He’s sold it to me before.”

(The cashier looks at him and back at us, she does not move.)

Me: “Look at the fridge. I can see it from here. It’s next to the sarsaparilla.”

Cashier: “I don’t know why you want this weird drink.”

Mum: “Look, why don’t you just go over and have a look.”

(Lo and behold, the drinks are there. She picks them up and takes them to the register.)

Cashier: “I don’t know why it’s called brown; this drink is weird.”

(We paid and left, still bewildered at what she had said. For the record, it’s called brown because it is brown.)

(It should be noted that I look a bit older than I am at 5’6″, and my boyfriend looks younger than he is, but is 5’11”.)

Cashier: *as I’m getting my wallet to pay* “Oh, are you mother and son?”

Both Of Us: “What?! No!”

Cashier: “Oh… He just looks so young, and you…”

Me: “He’s my boyfriend!”

Cashier: “Oh… You’re THAT type!”

Boyfriend: “I’m only younger than her by two months!”

Cashier: “What…?”

Me: “And I’ve known him since we were both five years old!”

Cashier: “And you’re the same age?”

Both Of Us: “Yes!”

Cashier: “I’ll… go see how your food is coming along.”

Boyfriend: “I feel insulted…”

Me: “I know how you feel.”

(It is 1999, and I am a cashier at a fast food restaurant in the local mall that is known for their fried chicken sandwiches. I am two months pregnant at the time. A very large woman approaches my register, wearing a skimpy two-piece outfit and accompanied by a male carrying a clutch style purse. She proceeds to order two of our most popular sandwich combos.)

Me: “That will be [price].”

Her: *turning to the male* “Baby, pay the lady.”

(After searching the purse for a minute…)

Him: “The money is not in here!”

Her: “Yes, it is. Dump it out on the counter.”

(He dumps the purse and the female searches with no luck.)

Her: “Hang on. I think I put it in my bra.”

(She digs around but comes up with no money.)

Me: “We can also take a check.”

Her: “I don’t use checks. I got paid last night at the club. I have the money.”

(She starts patting herself down and when she feels her back area…)

Her: “I found it! Must have stuck it in my panties.”

(As she started digging into her panties, a wave of morning sickness hit me and I had to excuse myself. I ran into the kitchen area and told the manager to finish with the guest up front. When I returned, my manager was washing the money in our dish sink with sanitizing solution and told me to never do that again. He said the money was wet and smelly. Turns out the female was the star performer at the local strip club.)

(The district manager of the fast food chain is in the building making sure everything is up to standards, so the store manager is a bit tense. I am working on the drive-thru window, where we have a target time of 90 seconds from starting the order to delivering the food. A driver pulls up to the order box.)

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Uh… I’d like a… hmm, number… three? And… uh, no pickles on that.”

Me: “All right, number three with no pickles. What would you like to drink?”

Customer: “Umm, make it… a, uh… Sprite. No, wait. Uh, do you have… diet Sprite?”

Me: *eyeing my timer and wishing he’d hurry up* “No, sorry. Is regular Sprite okay?”

Customer: “No, change it to… a Coke.”

Manager: “[My Name], timer’s ticking.”

Me: “So I have a number three, no pickles, Coke to drink. Will that be all for you today?”

Customer: “No, no, I’m not done. I also want… a number…” *trails off and starts talking to someone else in the car* “…a number nine.”

Me: “And the drink with that?”

Manager: “You’re usually good on the drive through, but if you don’t hurry this up you’ll be in trouble.”

(I mouth ‘sorry!’ at him.)

Customer: “A milkshake to drink.”

Me: “Yes, sir, which flavor?”

Customer: “Uh… chocolate? No, not chocolate… Umm… Strawberry. Yeah, strawberry.”

Me: “Anything else?”

Customer: “Uh…”

Manager: “What is taking you so long?!”

(He grabs a headset to listen in on the order.)

Customer: “I want a… uh… kid’s meal. With… uh… hmm… chicken nuggets.”

Me: “And the drink for that one, sir?”

Customer: “Ummm…”

Manager: *with his headset muted* “…Oh. Carry on.”

(I’m in a fast food restaurant when two older women sit down at a booth. The booth has two windows beside it, one which is empty and the other which has a big, promotional poster in it.)

Woman #1: “You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to tear down that poster so I can look outside.”

Woman #2: “Well, I can switch with you.”

Woman #1: “No, that’s okay!”

Woman #2: “But I don’t want to look outside! The sun is out there!”