(I work on the drive thru.)

Me: “Hi there, can I take your order?”

Customer: “HELLO?”

Me: “Hi, can I take your order please?”

Customer: “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

Me: “Yes, sir, I can hear you. Can I help you?”

Customer: “I WANT TO PLACE AN ORDER.”

Me: “Umm, yeah, can I take your order please?”

Customer: “CAN I PLACE MY F****** ORDER?”

Me: “Sir, can you hear me? I’m asking for your order?”

Customer: “OF COURSE I CAN F****** HEAR YOU! I’M NOT DEAF! I JUST WANT A CHEESEBURGER! THAT’S ALL I WANT!”

Me: “Okay, sir, drive to the first window to pay.”

(The customer drives around, and looks furious. He pays by card.)

Customer: “It says ‘insert card’.”

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “Well, does that mean now?!”

Me: “Yes, sir, please insert your card and follow the instructions.”

Customer: “Well now it’s saying ‘please wait’!”

Me: “Yes, the machine is just checking your card. Please wait.”

Customer: “‘Insert pin,’ does it mean the pin for this card, or my credit card?”

Me: “It means insert your pin for the card in the machine.”

(The customer finally pays and drives off, only to return moments later.)

Me: “Hello, sir, can I help?”

Customer: “HELLO?! HELLO ORDER-ROBOT! THIS CHEESEBURGER HAS PICKLES; I DON’T WANT PICKLES! AND I DIDN’T GET MY FRIES AND DRINK! ORDER-ROBOT, WHO DO I SPEAK TO?”

Me: “Sir, you can speak to me! I’m a person not a robot. We can correct your order for you, but you only got a cheeseburger because that’s what you ordered.”

Customer: “ORDER ROBOT, I WANT KETCHUP FOR MY FRIES! F****** machines are useless!”

(My coworker and I have a history of talking about video games and movies. Today we are discussing zombies.)

Coworker: “So if I turned into a zombie, I’d want someone to kill me before I ate anyone I cared about.”

Me: “Yes, but what if you could get better, like the zombies in Warm Bodies?”

Coworker: “That would be worse! Then I would slowly become human again and have to deal with the emotional and mental turmoil of having killed everyone I ever loved!”

Me: “Fine, if we are working, and the zombie apocalypse starts to go down, I promise I will kill you.”

Coworker: “Deal!”

(Later, our manager gets frustrated at something my coworker has done.)

Manager: “I’m going to kill [coworker]!”

Me: “Not fair! I called dibs first!”

(Our manager is so confused, she forgets what she was mad about. Now whenever she threatens to kill someone, we always scream “Dibs!”.)

(I’m in line at a very well-known chicken fast food place. It’s lunch hour, so the place is fairly packed.)

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

Customer: “Oh, I don’t know. Do I want a one-piece or two-piece meal?”

Cashier: “Well, people usually order the two-piece at this time, since it’s supposed to hold them for a few more hours.”

Customer: “Okay, a two-piece meal then.”

Cashier: “Would you like that ‘Original Recipe’ or ‘Hot and Crispy?'”

Customer: “I don’t know. What’s the difference?”

Cashier: “Um, the ‘Original Recipe’ tends to have softer skin and a tangy flavor, while the ‘Hot and Crispy’ is spicy and crunchy.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m not sure which one of those I want. The ‘Hot and Crispy’ might be too spicy for me.”

Cashier: “Don’t worry, our ‘Hot and Crispy’ isn’t really that spicy. It’s just enough for a kick in the taste buds, no more.”

Customer: “Maybe, but I might want extra mashed potatoes with it.”

Cashier: “If you order the full meal, you get a large side dish with your food.”

Customer: “What if a large is too big? I don’t want to eat all that much.”

Cashier: “Well, ma’am, the containers are behind me, so you can decide for yourself if large is too big.”

Customer: “Hmm… wait, what if I don’t want chicken for lunch?”

Customer Somewhere In The Back: “WELL YOU’RE IN THE WRONG F****** RESTAURANT, AREN’T YOU?! STOP HOLDING UP THE LINE!”

(My boyfriend and I use the acronym SYF when we get into silly arguments. It means ‘Shut Your Face’. We are in a fast-food restaurant waiting to order.)

Me: “So, what do you want?

Boyfriend: “What’s that stuff? We used to eat it all the time back in the day…”

Me: “So you want a large order of shut your face.”

Boyfriend: “Extra SYF, please.”

(We get up to the counter to order. I order him a burger, and some fries for myself.)

Cashier: “Would you like anything else?”

Me: “Oh yeah. I need a large Shut Your Face for my boyfriend, please.”

(The cashier looks offended, but one of her coworkers shouts from the kitchen.)

Coworker: “SHUT YOUR FACE!”

(The cashier, my boyfriend and I start laughing.)

Cashier: “Your total is $6.74, and the SYF was free.”

(I manage a fast food restaurant. I’m currently serving a customer who is from East Asia. She is clearly new to the country, as she is having significant trouble with the transaction, and I’m finding it difficult to communicate. My coworker steps in.)

Coworker: “Excuse me, where are you from?”

Asian Customer: “I am from Korea.”

(Suddenly, the next customer in line speaks up.)

Customer: “Racist! You’re a racist!”

Coworker: “Excuse me, ma’am?”

Customer: “I said you’re a racist! It doesn’t matter where this young lady comes from; she should be welcome in your store. You should feel ashamed!”

(The shouting customer turns to me.)

Customer: “You! Do something about her!”

Me: “I absolutely agree. You see, my coworker here is studying for a master’s degree in Asian studies. She was just asking because she could process this transaction in Korean, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, or Indonesian, and didn’t want to look like an idiot by making an assumption about someone she didn’t know.”

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