Old Woman: “So, what kind of food do you do here?”

Literally the entire menu is behind me, but I begin going through it. One of our side dishes, the chicken tikka nachodoms, has been incredibly popular.

Old Woman: “How big is the chicken tikka nachodoms? I’m not sure I can manage a full meal.”

Me: “Oh, don’t worry, its mainly a side dish we do, but it’s incredibly popular! Here is a picture of it, too!”

I point to the menu board.

Old Woman: “Okay, that sounds nice. I’ll have that, please.”

I process the order, give her a table number, and show her to the condiments stand. The order is taken out by one of the waiters as I am busy manning the till. Not even five minutes later, one of the chefs and I notice we are getting dirty looks.

Me: “Is everything okay, ma’am?”

Old Woman: “Not really. I’m quite upset by this.”

Me: “Oh, dear, what can I do to help?”

Old Woman: “I’m a vegetarian and this dish has meat in it!”

Me: “I do apologise, but the chicken tikka nachodoms does contain meat.”

A few other customers start giggling at this point.

Old Woman: “I need a fresh one without meat as I’m vegetarian!”

Me: “Sure, no problem! I proceed to let the kitchen know I need the vegetarian version of the chicken tikka nachodoms!”

I hope she got the hint by the end!

Related:
Not So Tender About The Chicken

I am on my way to return a rental car to the airport before catching a flight. Due to traffic, I am later than expected and in a hurry to fill up the car at a petrol station right next to the airport. My total comes to £11.56 and I head inside to pay. I can see that the guy being served before me has the same total and I chuckle to myself. When it’s my turn:

Me: “Pump four, please.”

Cashier: “Eh, are you sure? That guy just paid for pump four.”

Me: “What? But my car is at pump four; my total is £11.56.”

I show him the key tag, which states the number plate and he compares it to the car at pump four, which we can see through the window. Then, he quickly gets the manager to chase after the other guy, who has filled up around the corner, at a completely different pump.

Cashier: “I can see you’re in a hurry. If you want, you can pay his total of £11.35 and be on your way.”

I thanked the cashier and paid, thinking to myself that the mix-up probably happened due to the similar totals. As I left, the other guy came in with the manager. When he heard that he actually paid a few pence more than he should have, he started ranting and shouting. Not having time for this drama, I drove away as quickly as I could. Sorry, petrol station employees, but I really had to catch that plane!

I’m working as a trainee in a library. I’m sitting behind the desk, processing a pile of reserved books, when an older customer with a child around age five or six, her grandchild, comes to borrow books. After the borrowing is done, I hand her books and her library card.

Customer: “Thank you.”

Me: “You’re welcome.”

Customer: *To her grandchild* “What do you say?”

Grandchild: *Not really paying attention* “You’re welcome!”

After months of quarantine due to the global health crisis, my dad has started going out to work again. I come out of my room one morning to find a really cool-looking black mask — the reusable kind that just needs its filter changed — sitting on the kitchen counter. We’ve been making do with one-use masks, so I’m pretty excited about it.

My dad’s on his computer in the next room, so I go ask.

Me: “Hiya, Dad. What’s with the black mask?”

Dad doesn’t look up from his screen.

Dad: “Oh, I ordered it online for work. I got you one, as well, but it hasn’t arrived.”

Me: “Awesome, thanks! Can I go look at this one? Touch it?”

I emphasize this as, if he’s been outside with it, I sure as h*** don’t want to touch it.

Dad: “Oh, uh, yes, go ahead.”

I go back to the kitchen. Right after I’ve grabbed the mask to inspect the fabric, I hear my dad shouting.

Dad: “Oh, [My Name], it’s used, by the way! Don’t touch it too much!”

Me: “…”

Good thing I had grabbed it by the strap, just in case. Thanks, Dad. And anyway, why would you leave your used mask on the kitchen counter where FOOD is prepared?!

I work in a pizza place which has the word “Pizza” in the name of the company. When we answer phones, we always start by thanking people for calling [Restaurant] and asking whether the customer would like to place a carry-out or delivery order. On this particular night, I pick up the phone just as my manager does, and he begins taking the order without realizing I am on the phone.

Manager: “Thanks for calling [Restaurant]. Will this be for pick-up or delivery tonight?”

The customer is clearly drunk and slurring his words.

Customer: “Wha… What did I call?”

Manager: “[Restaurant]. Could I get you a delivery order, sir?”

Customer: “…what do y’all sell?”

Manager: *Deadpans* “Tires.”

Customer: “F***! I was trying to order pizza!” *Hangs up*