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The Real Bread Winner

, , , , , | Right | May 2, 2013

(I’m shopping at a bakery that’s known for making a unique loaf of bread. It usually sells out quickly. Due to the popularity of the item, customers are only allowed one loaf per visit. I’m in the long line when I see there are still some of the special loaves available. By the time I get to the front of the line, I see there’s two left: one for the older woman in front of me, and one for me. There are two cashiers, so I go to the second cashier as the first one helps the older woman.)

Cashier #2: “Hi! Welcome to [Bakery]. Will this be all for you today?”

Me: “Actually, can I have one of those [Special Loaves]?”

Cashier #2: “Oh, sure!”

Older Woman: “What? She can’t have that! It’s mine!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, you already have one. We can’t allow you to have another one.”

Older Woman: “It’s not for me! It’s for my daughter!”

(She then points to the woman standing behind me, who looks equally annoyed.)

Cashier #2: “We’re sorry, but we can’t hold this for her. This customer asked for it first.”

Older Woman: “But I was here first! And I’m holding one for my daughter!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, we can’t do that. It’s against store policy.”

Older Woman: “Well, in that case, I want to return everything! I don’t want to shop here if that’s how you treat your customers!”

(The older woman has purchased a lot of items, and begins to unload her bag onto the counter. At this point, the people in line behind us are getting agitated, and the cashiers are looking distraught. I roll my eyes.)

Me: “You know what? Just give it to the woman behind me.”

Cashier #2: “Are you sure?”

(I nod. The older woman gets a smug look, as she and her daughter leave the bakery with their items.)

Cashier #2: “We’re so sorry that happened, but thank you!”

Me: “It’s no problem. It wasn’t worth the drama.”

(I pay for my original items, and turn to leave when [Cashier #1] stops me.)

Cashier #1: “Hold on a second. We just pulled out a fresh batch from the oven. Would you like one?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(Not only was the bread I had delicious, but it was even fresher than the two the older woman got!)

Served With Just Desserts

, , , , , | Right | April 26, 2013

(I work at a restaurant which is very gay-friendly. It’s not actually a gay restaurant, but half the waiting staff, two of the chefs, and the owner are all gay or bi. Many of the customers are gay couples. A tourist couple, a man and woman, comes in, and sits at a table.)

Me: *flamboyantly* “Hi, welcome! Here are your menus—”

Customer #1: “We want another server!”

Me: “Sorry, but I’m the only one that’s free at the moment, and you’re sitting in my area, but I can help you all the same.”

(The couple stands up and walk to another table on the other side of the restaurant. Their server comes up to the table; she’s a young woman who dresses very alternatively.)

Server: “Hi, there! Would you like to look at—”

(The couple stands up again, this time moving to a table being served by the only straight server in the restaurant today. They order happily, and the server leaves. The table is right next to the large opening where you can see the chefs cooking your food. The customers can be heard by one of the chefs — who happens to be my boyfriend.)

Customer #1: “I can’t believe they let those people work with food. They’ll contaminate it.”

Customer #2: “I know! But don’t let it get to you; we have a good server now.”

Customer #1: “Yeah, but just look at them. That first man probably has AIDS, and they let him work in a restaurant! It’s disgusting!”

Chef: “Excuse me; please don’t talk about him that way. He doesn’t have AIDS. Even if he did, you wouldn’t catch it just because he served you food. He’s also my boyfriend, so stop it, or you’ll upset me and him.”

(The couple remains quiet until their server bring their drinks.)

Customer #1: “Make sure that thing doesn’t cook or touch any of my food.”

Server: “Sorry, I can’t do that. He is one of our best chefs, and he deals with items that you have ordered.”

Customer #2: “Well, have someone else make our food. Someone clean!”

Server: “I assure you that our chefs take hygiene very seriously. We are very highly rated from health and safety—”

Customer #1: “MANAGER! NOW!”

(Their server gets the manager, a very well-dressed and flamboyant man.)

Manager: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer #1: “You’re one, too?! A dirty gay! I can’t believe it! F*** you! F*** you all! Don’t any of you touch my food, my wife, or me! I don’t want your any of your dirty gay diseases!”

(The customers start referring to their server.)

Customer #2: “And to think you surround this poor boy with your heathen ways!” *to the server* “Come now, son, leave with us and we can save you from this evil lot!”

(All of the servers have gathered around the area. Many of the regular customers and their partners join, too.)

Server: “You know what? You’re right! Why should I have to work in a place with such nasty people?”

(The couple smiles and move towards him, as if to take him away.)

Server: “You two, get the f*** out of here and leave me alone! We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, and you most certainly are not welcome here!”

(The couple runs out, flustered and embarrassed.)

Manager: “I couldn’t have said it any better myself!”

Server: “Thanks, Dad!”

 

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Actors Of The Corn

, , , , | Right | April 1, 2013

(I work in a Halloween ‘Horror Maze.’ Twenty other actors and I lurk in the corn maze at night. Our job is to scare the customers as they come through. People are usually into the whole thing, but sometimes we have groups through that deliberately take the whole thing as a joke and belittle the actors. I hide just off the side of the path in the ‘hospital ward’, which is lined with beds and straw dummies. The customers don’t usually see me until I rush out at them. This means I hear them coming, and also hear what they say.)

Male Customer #1: “Dude this is f****** dumb; it’s not even scary!”

Male Customer #2: “I know! The North Island’s maze is so much better! This is f****** tame!”

(The rest of group grunts in agreement. This group is comprised of really big, tough-looking Samoan guys. I am a relatively tall woman dressed as an axe murdering man, complete with a wooden axe. I am minuscule compared to them. They enter my area through the net archway.)

Male Customer #2: “What the f*** is this s*** supposed to be?”

Male Customer #1: “Hey! We can have a nap!”

([Male Customer #3] moves towards the bed closest to my hiding spot.)

Male Customer #3: “We should just stay here until another group comes through; there’s no one in here!”

(I lunge out and scream a gravelly voice.)

Me: “That’s how the last group ended up as FERTILIZER, sonny boy!”

(They took one look at me and my axe and ran out of there, shrieking like schoolgirls. They then encountered the twins on the other side of the second archway. This resulted in them screaming even louder, falling off the path into the corn, and scrambling madly to get away.)


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Building A Case Against Her

, , , , | Right | April 1, 2013

(I work in the toy department of a fairly large bookstore. For the past few weeks, we’ve been finding empty boxes of large Lego kits tucked away on the shelves. I notice a woman crouched down behind a display in the back corner, a large backpack at her feet, and a Lego box in her hands that she’s trying to open.)

Me: “Hi there! Are you finding everything all right today?”

Woman: “Oh, uh, yeah.”

(The woman shuffles to her feet and I start “tidying up” a nearby display. She puts the box of Legos down and grabs her backpack. She wanders off to the teen section, and I keep a discreet eye on her as she grabs a book and sits down to read. I find my manager and tell him what happened. He approaches the customer, who is still reading.)

Manager: “Hey there, I hear you like Legos.”

Woman: “Uh…?”

Manager: “My kid really likes Legos, too. But he’s really disappointed when he opens the box and the pieces are all missing.”

Woman: “Um…”

Manager: “So, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to leave my store and not come back. If you do, I’ll have to call the police.”

(The woman left the store, still flustered. We never saw her again. Mysteriously, the Legos stopped disappearing, too.)


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Bigotry Unleashed

, , , , , | Right | March 14, 2013

(A gay couple has just met up in the restaurant and kissed each other upon arrival. Another customer has seen this and is obviously angry.)

Angry Customer: “D*** f**s.”

Gay Man: “Excuse me?”

Angry Customer: “You heard me, you little s***. Let’s not make this into some little pride protest, okay? I have to accept that you’re going to live your lifestyle, and you have to accept that I’ve got freedom of speech.”

Gay Man: *quietly* “Is it too much to ask for a little human decency?”

Angry Customer: “Human? Listen up, what you’re doing is not human. I think I have the right to determine what I think is human.”

(The manager shows up. He’s a quiet Italian man who I assume is conservative due to the Christian imagery and portrait of Reagan he keeps around the restaurant.)

Angry Customer: *to the owner* “Hey, can you move either them or us to another table?”

(Instead of responding to the angry customer, the owner instead speaks to his wife.)

Owner: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we have a strict ‘no pets’ policy in my restaurant.”

Wife: “Uh, I, uh, what? I don’t have a—”

Owner: “Well, according to your talking monkey over here, I can determine who’s a human and who’s not. You bring an animal into my restaurant? I gotta assume it’s your pet.”

(The angry customer stormed out. When I left, the owner was giving his description, and copies of security camera footage, to the biggest crowd of police I’ve seen. Apparently it’s a bad idea to not pay your bill at a restaurant that gives free coffee to cops.)


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