Professor Omnomnom

, , , , , | Learning | September 12, 2017

(I’m a TA and PhD student. The undergrads are taking summer classes, and most them are new and confused. I’m hurrying to class, and eating a burrito at the same time. Just as I stuff the last of the burrito into my mouth, a lost-looking student stops me.)

Student: “Excuse me, Professor… uh…”

(I look down and notice that my ID card has flipped around. I try to tell him I’m not a professor, but with my mouth full…)

Me: “Mnahprofshr.”

Student: “Oh! I’m looking for Professor Smith. Sorry to bother you, Professor Naprofsher!”

(I tried to correct him, but he escaped while I was laughing and choking on burrito.)

The Sauce Of All Your Complaining

, , , , | Right | September 11, 2017

(I work at a fried chicken restaurant during my holidays. The owner is my aunt, so I go there to help out whenever I can. We have a particular item that’s those drink and snack combos where there’s a drink in a cup and a small bowl of fried chicken on top. There is a kind of sweet-chili sauce drizzled on top. There’s a clear picture of it on our menu, and you can clearly see what the product is about. One particular day, a customer orders that product.)

Me: “Good afternoon, ma’am! What can I get you today?”

Customer: *points at the picture on our menu*

Me: “Okay, that will be the [item]. What drink would you like to go with it?”

Customer: “[Beverage]. And I would like [other item] and [other item] as well.”

Me: “Okay, that will be [price].”

(The food is served, and I am tidying the counter when the woman storms up to me.)

Customer: “Excuse me?! I did not want chili sauce on this, please change it.”

Me: *shocked as this has never happened before* “Sorry, ma’am, but we are unable to change it for you, as you did not tell me beforehand that you did not want the sauce on it. The menu clearly states that there will be chili sauce on it, so we assumed you wanted it.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! I don’t care; I want an exchange.”

(Since I do not know how to deal with this, I go and ask my aunt if it can be exchanged. Since, as I said, we have never encountered such situations before, my aunt gives me a sort of incredulous and helpless smile when I tell her about the situation. Sort of the kind where you are like, “Oh man, what are we going to do?”)

Aunt: *to customer* “Sorry ma’am, but we are unable to—”

Customer: “Do you find this funny?!”

Aunt: “What—”

Customer: “You were laughing at me. Do you find this situation funny to you?!”

(My aunt might have given the helpless smile, but it most definitely wasn’t laughing.)

Aunt: “Sorry for the confusion, but I was not laughing at you, merely smiling because we have never encountered such a situation before—”

Customer: “So, you think it’s funny? What if I had a chili sauce allergy? Are you going to take responsibility for this?”

Me: “Ma’am, it is clearly stated here what the product contains. You will be served that particular product, as it is shown, unless you request special arrangements. It is not our fault, and we are not obliged to exchange it for yo—”

Customer: “This is f****** ridiculous. I’m going to complain. Complain that you are not giving me an exchange. I’ll probably die eating this, and you are all going to have this on your conscience. And you find this funny?!”

Me: “Look, ma’am—”

(At this point, my aunt stopped me and offered the unreasonable customer an exchange. The customer continued to complain and spew profanities for the remaining time she was eating in our restaurant. The kicker? She was also eating some other chicken set that had the exact same sauce that was on the product she made such a fuss over!)

They’re Very Green To All Of This

, , , , | Learning | September 11, 2017

(I am a teaching assistant and I am helping out in a lesson of food technology. The students are making cupcakes. They were allowed to bring in food colouring of their choice.)

Student: “Mrs. [My Name], if I make my cakes green, will they be mint flavoured?”

Me: “No, you would need to put flavouring into the mix, like peppermint.”

Student: “But isn’t that clear?”

Me: “It can be, yes.”

Student: “But mint is green!”

Me: “It doesn’t have to be. Kendal Mint Cake isn’t green. After Eights aren’t green.”

(I have never seen someone’s mind collapse under such a simple concept, but he had to go to the nurse’s office and rest. He didn’t come back until close to the end of the lesson. I finished his cakes for him, but I didn’t use the colouring in case it confused him again.)

Peppered With Translation Errors

, , , | Right | September 8, 2017

(We’ve just got in from our flight, and all we want to do is crash. Unfortunately, we’re also hungry. I look up a pizza place just down the street.)

Me: *on the phone* “Hallo. Können wir bitte ein Pizza haben?” *Hello. Can we please have a pizza?*

Pizza Man: *rapidly talks German but I catch the words, “Which kind?”*

Me: “Haben Sie Peperoni Pizza?” *Do you have pepperoni?*

Pizza Man: “Ja. Wie groß?” *Yes. How big?*

(The rest of the order goes okay, and I basically understand everything he says. When the pizza comes, however, it is not pepperoni. It has onions and peppers, and looks nothing like pepperoni pizza! I try talking to the guy, but we can’t seem to understand each other.)

Me: *thinking* “I’ll accept the pizza; it shouldn’t be that bad.”

(My mouth is on fire the rest of the night. I call my German mother to ask why this happened. She laughs at me for a solid minute.)

Mum: “I did the same thing when I was 13! I had just finished my stay in America, and I missed the pizza there. I asked the waitress for a pepperoni pizza. She was like, ‘Are you sure?’ She was so insistent, but I really wanted that pizza.”

Me: “So, you got a pepper pizza?”

Mum: “Yup! It was so spicy! You want salami pizza, dear. It’s a little saltier and less spicy than pepperoni, but it’s basically the same thing.”

Me: “Thank you so much!”

(I eventually learned to love German pizza, especially curry pizza, but I’ll never forget that first one!)

Dress Down For Lunch Or You’ll Get A Good Dressing

, , , , , , | Right | September 8, 2017

(I’m on a 30-minute lunch break at the grocery store where I work. I’m still in my apron, I am standing in a checkout line holding food and a drink to buy, and I am on my phone. A customer approaches me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, do you work here?”

Me: “Yes, I do, sir.”

Customer: “Do you know where salad dressing is?”

Me: “Of course, it’ll be to your left on aisle one.”

Customer: “Come show me!”

(I decide not to tell him that I’m on a lunch break, and decide that it’ll be easier to just lead him to the aisle. I show him to the correct spot, and am about to leave and go get in line again when he says:)

Customer: “I need you to pick some salad dressings out for me.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I’m on a fast and can’t have eggs, cheese, or dairy. I need you to pick some out for me and read me the ingredients.”

(By this point I’m a bit alarmed and confused, but I decide to help him further. I pick him out a lovely balsamic vinaigrette and read the ingredients.)

Me: “This one doesn’t have any eggs, milk, or dairy in it.”

Customer: “Really? No eggs?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “No milk?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “No dairy?”

Me: “Nope.”

Customer: “Okay, pick me out another one.”

(I do, and after reading the ingredients again, I hand the bottle to the customer and make sure that the back of it with the ingredients list is facing him. He briefly looks over it.)

Customer: “Okay, I’ll get this one.”

Me: “Great choice, sir. Have a wonderful day.”

(Needless to say, I practically inhaled my lunch when I got up to the break room. That’s the last time I’ll ever wear my apron/name tag on a lunch break again.)

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