That Went Smoothie

, , , | Working | October 29, 2018

(My family and I are going to get dessert after eating out. My brother and I get chocolate ice cream, my dad gets rum raisin, and my mom wants a slushie.)

Mom: “Excuse me, but do you have slushies?”

Employee: *suddenly looking worried* “No, we don’t, but, um… We have a [signature slushie-like drink].”

Mom: “Oh, then I will get a small strawberry-banana smoothie.”

Employee: *looking down-right terrified* “We ran out of banana; we only have strawberry and mango.”

Mom: *pleased* “Great, could you mix them together? A small, please.”

(The employee mumbles something while walking away and brings a large.)

Mom: *confused* “Excuse me, I asked for a small.”

Employee: *eyes wide* “It’s, um… I’m sorry, ma’am, it’s going to be only [price for a small].”

Dad: “Oh, it’s okay. Here you go.”

(My dad pays by credit card. We all say thank you and exit. We forgot to tip, so my dad goes back in, gives him five bucks, and comes back out. Note that my dad is a big guy.)

Dad: “He was as white as a sheet. Probably bad customers earlier.”

Me: *to my brother* “Guess what’s going on NAR?”

(If you’re reading this, ice cream man, thank you so much. Also, consider making strawberry-mango a flavor.)

What A Fudging Idiot

, , , , | Right | October 14, 2018

(I work at an ice cream shop that has a special every 31st. This is a conversation I hear between my coworker and a customer.)

Customer: “Do you have [flavor with fudge in it]?”

Coworker: “Yes, ma’am, we do. Would you like a scoop?”

Customer: “Yes. In a cup.”

Coworker: *scoops ice cream and hands it over to customer* “Will that be all tonight, ma’am?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Coworker: “Your total will be [total]. Thank you! Have a great night!”

Customer: *walks back, angry now* “Hey! Does this have fudge in it?!”

Coworker: “Well, you asked for [flavor with fudge], correct?”

Customer: “Yes, but I didn’t know it had fudge in it! I demand a new scoop for free!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry but I can’t give you a new scoop. You have to pay for a new one since it’s so cheap today.”

Customer: *glares and points to the flavor she wants*

Coworker: *finishes transaction* “Have a good evening!”

I Scream For Justice

, , , , , | Working | October 5, 2018

(I am in high school. I am looking around my neighborhood for a part-time evening job, and I walk into an ice cream shop to ask if they are hiring. The manager behind the counter literally throws a t-shirt and apron at me.)

Manager: “All right, get started.”

Me: “Uh, right now?”

Manager: “Bathroom’s that way; go put it on.”

(She gives me no more than a ten-minute tour behind the counter and explanation of how to work the register, then asks:)

Manager: “So, you think you got it?”

Me: *a little dazed* “I… I think so?”

Manager: “Great. I’m going next door to do some shopping. See you.”

(She walks out and leaves me there completely alone. A while later, a few customers walk in: a couple and one man by himself. The girlfriend asks for some complicated mint concoction that I have no idea how to make, but I try. I also struggle with ringing it up, and apologize, explaining that I only just barely started. The girl sneers at me the entire time, takes one sip of her drink, and hurls it at me and says:)

Girlfriend: “This is disgusting. No wonder you work at a place like this; you are such an idiot.”

(She then grabs her boyfriend and flounces out. I am so disoriented at this point I’m almost in tears. The man behind them is sympathetic and asks quietly:)

Gentleman: “I’m sorry. How long did you say you’ve been working here?”

Me: “Only about twenty minutes or so. Really.”

(He is in disbelief, and asks me where the manager went, and then goes next door to find her. She comes storming back and says:)

Manager: “Ugh, I thought you said you were fine!”

(This is only the beginning of the nightmare. I tell my parents the story, but they pressure me to keep the job. The only information the place collects from me is my first name and phone number which they make me write on the list of employees — an extremely long list with many names crossed out. They never process my social security, and distribute the wages in cash, in unsecured and unsealed envelopes on a piled table in the back. They only ever have one person manning the store, which means that employees are left alone with all the money, and the store has no concrete ID on them. Yes, wages do get stolen, and the management refuses to restore it to wronged parties. I also quickly realize that my wage is always a flat $100, despite the fact that they have me working five shifts a week, which often go over my scheduled time because the next person no-shows. The manager never appears in the store, but watches over the cameras from home constantly and calls. Because there is supposed to be someone behind the counter at all times, and there is only one person in the entire store, he yells at me if I even go to use the bathroom during my shifts that sometimes go nine or ten hours. There are no breaks for meals, either, and I am told to just eat some ice cream when I complain that I can’t work so long without food. He keeps trying to schedule me or make me cover shifts during school hours, and yells at me when I try to work on my homework. When no one comes to relieve me yet again, we get in a screaming match over the phone and he threatens to call the police on me if I walk out, since I have no key to lock up the store. Since the money is on the table, I hatch a plan and ask him how far from the store he is. He says he is a fifteen-minute drive away.)

Me: “Okay, you have fifteen minutes to get here, or I’m leaving.”

(He continues to threaten and abuse me.)

Me: “Now you have ten minutes. Hopefully no one walks in before you get here.”

(He demands I give him my parents’ phone number.)

Me: “No. Now it’s five minutes.”

(He starts screaming so loudly I have to hold the phone away from my ear. I turn and give the camera the middle finger, hang up, and walk out. Now, I don’t leave yet; I wait around right outside and look up the non-emergency police number on my phone. I ring them up and explain that I have a tip that this business is paying workers under the table and hardly has any customers, so there’s some tax evasion and possibly other financial crimes going on here.)

Me: “The evidence is lying all over the table in the back right now, and the guy in charge is on his way here. He’ll arrive in approximately ten minutes, so hurry if you want to wrap this up easily.”

(They said they’d send a car right over, and I took a seat on the patio at the coffee shop next door to wait. The cop car arrived first. By this time, I figured the manager must be in his car and unable to monitor the cameras, so I waved them down and quickly showed them to the table in the back with the money. Then, right on cue, the manager arrived and stormed in, muttering and cursing. He came round the corner to where the office was, saw the two officers standing there, and went pale. They put him in handcuffs and took him away, then thanked me and said they would investigate. I went home and told my parents that I was let go suddenly because the place was being shut down. Later, it came out that the place was a money laundering front. For some time afterwards, I was worried that whatever organized crime behind it would find me with what little info I had given, and retaliate, but nothing ever happened.)

This Ice Cream Will Floor You!

, , , , , | Working | September 30, 2018

I took my son and his friend to a restaurant that specializes in ice cream. They have one item in particular made of soft serve mixed with an assortment of toppings. Their gimmick is to turn the cup upside down as they present it to the customer to demonstrate how thick their ice cream is.

My son’s friend had never been there and didn’t know this. As the girl behind the counter handed him his ice cream, she turned it upside down. It must have been mixed wrong or something, because it was watery and his ice cream was poured out onto the counter.

The poor kid had no idea what just happened. From his perspective, she walked up to him, smiled, and dumped out his ice cream!

In Receipt Of Some Confusion

, , , | Right | September 5, 2018

(The customer in this story never actually raises his voice, but he speaks very intensely and slowly the whole time, practically leaning over the counter, looking me in the eye as much as possible.)

Me: “Would you like your receipt?”

Customer: “Only if you print it.”

(I pause, confused.)

Customer: “I only want it if you print it.”

(Thinking he means that he doesn’t want it emailed, I print the receipt. Hesitantly, I hand it to him.)

Me: “You said you wanted it?”

Customer: *shaking head* “No, ma’am, I didn’t. I said I only wanted it if you printed it.”

(I try to draw the receipt back to throw away, but he reaches for it.)

Me: “I didn’t understand what you meant.”

Customer: “I don’t know why; I say that to some people, and they just don’t print it, and I say it to others and they print it. I don’t get what’s so confusing about it, maybe you can tell me what I’m saying that’s confusing.”

Me: “I just didn’t know if you didn’t want it emailed…”

Customer: “No, I didn’t want it emailed, I only wanted it if you had to print it, because I have to destroy it. And I don’t want you to throw it away, because I don’t want someone finding it and getting my information. So I have to destroy it. But I don’t want to destroy it because I want to save a tree. I’d like to save a tree.”

(I nod as he finally leaves, and the next customer comes up, rolling her eyes and laughing quietly.)

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