(There is a sign right above our desk in the restaurant that says, “THIS IS NOT FAST FOOD. This is good food, cooked as fast as I can,” made by one of my bosses after people complained about wait time. We are a restaurant specializing in burgers, so sometimes people mistake us for a fast food place, when we are not. We can make orders as fast as 10 minutes if it’s not busy, but with the boss it’s usually 15 minutes as he’s a perfectionist.)

Customer: “Hi, I’d like to make a to-go order.”

Me: “Certainly! That will take about 15 minutes.”

Customer: “Oh… that long? Don’t you have anything premade?”

Me: *pointing to sign* “No, ma’am… we make everything fresh. Ten to fifteen minutes is generally the fastest we can get orders out if it’s not busy. It’s certainly worth the wait.”

(The customer rolls her eyes and walks out.)

Me: “Have a great day!”

(I work at a restaurant that specializes in amazing burgers. This situation happens to one of my coworkers when she serves some local regulars, who generally come in big groups at the worst times.)

Coworker: *brings over food to table* “Enjoy your meal, folks! Let me know if I can get you anything else!”

(A couple minutes later, one of the people at the table runs up to the desk with their burger.)

Customer: *angry tone* “Excuse me, but my Union Pacific burger with bleu cheese and bacon doesn’t have any grilled onions on it!”

(The Union Pacific comes with our normal burger toppings of tomato, lettuce, and onion, as well as bleu cheese and bacon. No grilled onions.)

Waitress: “Oh, I am so sorry! I don’t remember you saying you wanted grilled onions on it. I must have not heard you. Let me fix that for you.”

Customer: “Of course I didn’t tell you! We’re locals and we come here all the time! You should know our order!”

Waitress: “I apologize… there are six of you here tonight and I was unaware that I was supposed to memorize your orders. I’ll have the cooks fix this for you, though.”

(The waitress happens to be the owners’ 16-year-old daughter. The customers continue to complain to her mother, until the mother decides to comp their whole table. I hear about the mishap the next day…)

Boss: “…and then they talked about how stupid [Boss’s Daughter] was right in front of her! I couldn’t believe it.”

Daughter: “It was horrible. You shouldn’t have comped their whole table, Mom.”

Boss: “Well, I wanted to make them feel like a**-h***s. When I comped it the man told me to just comp that one burger, but then I told them that they were SO important to us and hope that they come back soon. Kill them with kindness, [Daughter]!”

(Our restaurant closes between 3:30-4:30, sometimes 5:00, in the afternoon. It’s 3:30, so I turn off the open signs and write “Open at 4:30” on a sticky note and stick it to the door. A couple minutes later, someone appears outside the door, reads the sign, then peeks in through the window. He then opens the door.)

Me: “Hello, sir! What can I do for you?”

Customer: “I was just wondering if y’all are really closed.”

Me: “Umm… yes, sir, we are really closed, and we will re-open at 4:30. We take a break in the middle of the day, because it is unlawful for the cooks, who work doubles, to not have a break. Also, we do some cleaning and more food prep so our food is as fresh as possible.”

Customer: “Your posted hours on the door don’t say that you close at this time.”

Me: “Yes, sir, that is because there is no room on that sign to say that we close in the afternoon. I apologize, but that is why I wrote the sign saying we open at 4:30.”

Customer: *defeated* “Well, okay then, thanks.”

Me: “No problem! See you at 4:30!”

(This happens every single day, with multiple different people. I’ve started to write another note that says, “Yes, we really are closed until 4:30,” as I don’t need people constantly distracting me from cleaning.)

I’m working one day when a high school-age girl walks in and hands me a filled-out job application. Despite the fact that we don’t require a resume to apply here, she’s gone ahead and stapled one to the application. I thank her and duck into the back to put the resume on the manager’s desk.

Despite myself, I risk a peek at the girl’s resume. She has a previous job at a different fast food restaurant listed under “job experience,” and it looks as if one of her prior duties was “managing afternoon shifts.”

Unfortunately, she left the “f” out of the word “shifts.”

She didn’t get the job, but we all had a good laugh over the typo.

(Our library is scheduled to be closed for a day while we do some renovations — moving shelves and furniture and doing some painting to prepare a new area. This renovations day happens to fall on my day off.)

Coworker: “Are you sad that you won’t be here to help us with stuff?”

Me: “Haha… no.”

Coworker: “I bet you have big plans for your day off, huh?”

Me: “Oh, yes. I’m going to buy me a big Slushie and come to the library, and stare through the window and watch you all work while I slowly drink it in front of you.”

Coworker: “…I hate you.”