She Eats People Like You For Breakfast

, , , , , | Romantic | October 14, 2017

(My friend is working the drive-thru. After the customer gives his order and pulls to the window, this lovely exchange happens:)

Customer: “You know, a guy like me likes to see girls like you on her back, preferably naked.”

Friend: “You know, a girl like me likes to see guys like you in an oven, preferably with it preheated to 350 already.”

Customer: “I was just trying to be flattering.”

Friend: “You were just trying to be raunchy for shock value, and it didn’t work.”

Customer: “What if I had feelings for you?”

Friend: “Wouldn’t change mine toward you, which is hungry.”

Customer: “As in good hungry?”

Friend: “As in Hannibal hungry.”

Customer: *drives off*

A Sizeable Problem

, , , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(I work at a fast food restaurant. For some reason, people don’t seem to understand sizes. I am often on the drive-thru, and you would not believe the frequency with which these exact exchanges occur, with multiple customers.)

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’ll just have a #1.”

Me: “What size would you like that combo?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: “Okay, and what size?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: *over-enunciating* “Do you want the fries and drink small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “Actually, make that a [Other Soda].”

Me: *picks random size for them* “Thank you. Please pull forward.”

(Another incident: a customer goes through the process of ordering whatever food, and then…)

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “What does that mean?”

Me: “What size do you want [Item] in?”

Customer: “What does it come in?”

Me: “It comes in either small, medium, or large.”

Customer: “I’ll take a regular.”

Me: “So, you want that in a medium?”

Customer: “No, just give me the regular size.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll make that a small.”

Customer: “Just give me whatever size it comes in!”

Me: *picks size for them* “Thank you. Please pull forward.”

(Plot twist: sometimes the customer really wants “extra large,” which is not an actual size here, and pulls all the way back through the line to have us get their order “right.”)

Plenty Of Door-ama

, , , , | Right | October 12, 2017

(I work at a sandwich shop. It shares a building with a coffee shop. There is an entrance from the street, and another entrance on the other side that is shared with the coffee shop. The coffee shop’s door is about four feet across from the sandwich shop’s door.)

Customer: “How do I get to [Coffee Shop]?

Me: “Just go through that exit over there, and the door is straight ahead.”

Customer: “Oh, thank you!”

(The customer walks out the shared door and I return to work. Ten minutes later I see her come in through our street door looking a little huffed and confused.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but I couldn’t find [Coffee Shop]. Did you give me the right directions?”

Me: “Yes, the shop is right through that door.”

(I am pointing to the shared door like before.)

Customer: “I went through that door and didn’t find it. Show me.”

(Since it isn’t busy, I walk from the counter directly in front of the door with her next to me.)

Me: *pointing to the other door behind the glass* “See that other door behind this one? That is [Coffee Shop].”

Customer: *red-faced and flustered* “Oh, of course. I didn’t see it; I’m not stupid! Don’t act like I’m stupid.”

Dealing With Humans Is A Lottery

, , , , | Right | October 12, 2017

(I work at a stadium. Across the street is a small mom-and-pop bodega owned by a very nice family from India. I usually eat there because the food is good and cheap, and the location is convenient. On game days, they get slammed with drunk tailgaters walking over from the stadium. This exchange takes place one afternoon on my lunch break.)

Owner: “Hello. How are you today, and what may I get you?”

Me: “I am doing well, sir, and you? It looks like you guys are super busy, so I will just take a [pre-made sandwich]. Thank you!”

(As he hands me my lunch and rings me up, he hands me three lottery tickets.)

Me: “Oh, I don’t need these; I didn’t pay for them.”

Owner: “Take them as a gift, sir. You are literally the only person who has been polite and talked to me as a human being all d*** day!”

(See, kids? It pays to be polite!)

There’s A Meth To His Madness

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(A customer is freaking out in the men’s bathroom, slamming the stall door, and I have to go tell him to leave since I am the only guy working.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: *spills his water* “Uh, sorry, what did you say?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; you have to leave. You’re damaging property and you’re scaring the customers.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m schizophrenic and I… I just have these episodes.”

Me: “It’s fine, man; I understand, but you still have to leave.”

(The customer leaves, and I go back to the bathroom to see how big of a mess he made, but most of the water has evaporated. He left his phone charger and case on the floor, though, so I give them back to my manager and she holds onto them. The customer comes back in and bolts for the bathroom.)

Me: “Sir, you can’t go back in there. You need to leave now.”

Customer: “Yeah, I just, uh, forgot something in the bathroom.”

Manager: *brings him his stuff* “You have to leave now, sir, or I’m calling the cops.”

Customer: *very panicked* “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”

(I head back into the bathroom, and I don’t know how I missed it, but there is a little baggie on the floor with some paper folded up in it. I unwrap it, and there is a brownish powder in it. I take it to my manager.)

Me: “So… I found this in the bathroom. What is it?”

Manager: “Well, that explains a lot. It’s meth.”

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