, , , , | Working | March 28, 2020

(A coworker comes into the office and notices I am eating doughnuts.)

Coworker: “Oh, can I have one, please?”

Me: “Umm, I don’t think they’ll be to your liking.”

Coworker: “I love doughnuts, though!”

(She reaches for one.)

Me: “No, really. I don’t think you want one.”

Coworker: “Gosh, you’re always so rude. You greedy pig!”

(She puts half of one in her mouth and bites down hard. She then chews, looking satisfied, but after a couple of seconds she spits it out.)

Coworker: “That is disgusting! Oh, my God. Look, I’m bleeding!”

Me: “No, that’s just tomato sauce.”

Coworker: “Tomato sauce?! With doughnuts? That’s horrible. Why are you having that?”

Me: “I’m pregnant. I was craving it.”

(She scoffed at me about how ridiculous I was and how I was just milking my pregnancy for attention. Literally three people in the office work knew at that point, her being the third that I had just told. She then made it a point to criticise my pregnancy every time she saw me. It got to a point that I started having breakdowns from the constant harassment and she was reprimanded and suspended for a week. The worst part was, a year or so later she got pregnant, as well, and it was particularly difficult for her, or so she would have us believe. The second she set foot in the office everything had to be about her. I made the mistake of walking into the staff room while she was having her cravings — honey-roasted peanuts and pork scratchings in mayonnaise — and she demanded that I leave for judging her; I literally hadn’t said a word. She then spat her food at me, screeching that at least it wasn’t tomato sauce and chocolate. The entire office breathed a sigh of relief when she went on maternity leave.)

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A Hard Sell On Soft Drinks

, , , , , , | Right | March 26, 2020

(I work in a fairly high-end hotel bar and restaurant in a nice part of town. A family with two young daughters comes in and orders a bottle of our most expensive champagne. A coworker takes it over to them. A little while later, the father comes up to the bar, presumably to buy non-alcoholic drinks for his daughters.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Can I borrow a bottle opener?”

Me: “You don’t need a bottle opener for that type of champagne. If you like, I could open it for you, sir.”

Customer: “No, it’s not for the champagne. It’s for the drinks I bought for the girls.”

Me: “Were they not opened when you bought them?”

Customer: “No, we bought them from a supermarket.”

Me: “Unfortunately, sir, you won’t be allowed to drink those in here. You can only consume food and drink purchased on the premises.”

Customer: *getting aggravated* “This is ridiculous. I’ve come here and bought your stupidly expensive champagne, I’m going to eat dinner here later, and I have to waste money on your inflated prices for [Soft Drink], as well?” *storms back to table*

(Later, I saw that another colleague had served him [Soft Drink], and he was now topping up their empty glasses with the drinks he’d brought in with him. I alerted my manager, who confiscated the drinks. Daft that he was happy to spend £100 on champagne, similar on food, but not £2 each on soft drinks.)

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Feel Guilty Or Feel Sick, The Choice Is Yours

, , , , , | Working | March 25, 2020

I ordered some Chinese food from my favorite restaurant to be delivered; it was an all-you-can-eat buffet.

I’d never had any problems with the food before but this time, it looked like it had been sitting in a refrigerator for weeks. The spare ribs sauce had crystallized in the bottom of the plastic container, there was brown goo inside the vegetables, and there were small specs of mold on the egg rolls, among other things. I called the Health Department right away and they came later that day and picked up the food to analyse it. They did not give me the results when they called the next day but told me that they were about to make a surprise inspection in the restaurant. They closed the place down for two weeks. 

When the restaurant reopened, I went back a couple of times to eat there but felt sort of guilty that they had to close for two weeks because of me; I know it’s stupid! A few months later, I learned that the Health Department closed the place down for good following another surprise inspection. I stopped feeling guilty after that because I understood that even without my complaint, the restaurant was bound to close anyway; it just happened sooner than later.

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About To Make A Huge Mis-Steak

, , , | Right | March 24, 2020

(I am working the closing shift alone in the meat department, which means rushing between cleaning and sanitizing the back and filling and arranging the displays in the customer area for the morning. While bringing out meat to fill the cases, I see two young foreign women — who I take to be students from the local college — puzzling over the steaks.)

Me: “Can I help you find anything?”

Student #1: *in broken English* “Yes, we’re wondering why these—” *pointing to the top display* “—are so much more expensive than these—” *pointing to the lower display*

(I explain the difference between the more expensive “grilling” steaks that you can just slap on the BBQ — sirloin, T-bone, etc. — and the less expensive “marinating” steaks like the round cuts that, well, need to be marinated to make them more tender. I give them advice on how to do this, suggest slow cooking as an option, and basically offer them all the help I can, realizing they are students on a tight budget and with no obvious culinary skills. After about ten minutes, they seem to get it, and I hurry off to continue stocking. As I’m returning to grab more meat from the back, they stop me.)

Student #2: *with a quite bewildered expression* “About these outside round steaks… Do you have to cook them outside?”

Me: *sighing* “It’s not necessary, but we do recommend it.”

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The Cashier Said It Better Than We Ever Could

, , , , , | Working | March 20, 2020

I go into a fast food restaurant in town. I’m a teenager, and at this age, I’m not fond of all the salad and sauces that are put onto most burgers, so I am in the habit of ordering them plain — i.e. without the sauces and salad. I’ve never had a problem with this, until now.

I order a bacon cheeseburger, plain.

I leave the shop and open the bag to find I’ve been given a bun with cheese and bacon, but no burger!

I return to the shop and tell the cashier. She turns to the kitchen and simply shouts, “You idiots!”

I get a replacement burger just the way I wanted it.

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