Feeding The Intolerant

, , , , | | Friendly | July 21, 2019

(My husband and I are on a road trip with our infant daughter who is still breastfeeding and doesn’t take solid food yet. We stop for our lunch at a fast food chain. To make better time, I’m feeding the baby while my husband gets the food. I’m sitting in a booth in the corner with a nursing cover on, discreetly breastfeeding. An elderly woman comes up to me.)

Woman: “Excuse me, could you not?” *gestures at me*

Me: *feigning ignorance* “Not what?”

Woman: “Keep your boobs to yourself; we’re eating.”

Me: “So is she.”

Wrong Change Doesn’t Make A Change

, , , , | | Right | July 20, 2019

(I pull up to the drive-thru of a popular fast food chain. It’s pretty busy with a large line of cars. After we order, the car in front of us drives off just before the pay window. My boyfriend is driving.)

Employee #1: “That will be [amount].”

(My boyfriend hands cash to the window person.)

Me: “Babe, that doesn’t sound right. Wait at this window when we get the receipt so I can check it.”

(My boyfriend decides instead to drive to the second window.)

Me: “Babe, they didn’t charge us for our meal; they aren’t going to give us what we ordered.”

Boyfriend: “We will just have them correct it when we get to the window.”

Me: “That’s going to take a year and a day! I bet those nim-nuts did this to everyone! It’s going to be a mess!”

Boyfriend: “It will be fine. They usually have someone keeping an eye on the cameras to catch that stuff.”

(We finally get to the second window.)

Boyfriend: “Hey, yeah, that’s not my order. You didn’t charge me right.”

Employee #2: “What? Didn’t you get [order of the guy who drove away]?”

Boyfriend: “Uh, no. We got, uh, um…”

Me: “Yeah, some jackwagon in front of us left right before reaching the pay window, and the pay person did not confirm our order, so I didn’t know the order was wrong until I got the receipt. We got [order], and you might want to check out the rest of your tickets.”

Employee #2: “Oh, you have got to be kidding me. Please give me a minute.”

(We wait, he brings us the right order, and we hand him our full change and receipt.)

Me: “I gave you guys a $20, and this is the change you gave me. Here’s the receipt so you can check. I figured it would make it a little easier on you guys.”

Employee #2: “Yeah, sorry about this, guys. It’s not just you; they just did this to everyone behind you, so we have about six receipts to fix.”

(Then, we wait longer for them to figure out how to give us change. I figure they need to redo the other sales. [Employee #2] looks a strange mixture of bored and frustrated, and I have a brilliant idea.)

Me: “Hey, window guy, for the inconvenience this has caused, would you throw me three chocolate chip cookies?”

Boyfriend: “Babe! That’s so rude! You can’t just ask for free stuff!”

Me: “Rude would be me cussing out the whole staff for not knowing how to confirm an order, or to glance at cameras every once in a while to make sure all of your cars in line stay in line. Asking for cookies is my right!”

Boyfriend: “How do you expect to get free cookies?”

Employee #2: “Here you are.” *hands me my cookies* “I am again sorry for the wait; we are just trying to get the registers correct.”

Boyfriend: “I can’t believe he really just brought you cookies.”

Me: “He’s lucky I didn’t ask for a free meal or jump through that window. I think I am being quite nice right now.”

Employee #2: “Here is your change, the receipt you paid for originally, and the receipt you should have gotten. If you would like, you can check your totals before you leave.”

Boyfriend: “Nah, we are cool.”

(He drives away, I look over our receipt, and I realize before we go around the building that something is off.)

Me: “Babe, why did you leave right away? They don’t know how to count; they didn’t give us the right amount of change.”

Boyfriend: “What do you mean? What were we supposed to get?”

Me: “$5 and something. They gave us $7 and something.”

Boyfriend: “So, they gave us cookies and an extra $2?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Boyfriend: “Where did they get that number from?”

Me: “I am assuming they had trouble doing math. Our original change was $12 something, and our meal was $14 something. It looks like they gave us the difference of our messed-up order change and our actual order, with the change we were supposed to get with our order.”

Boyfriend: “Too much math. We made $2 because they messed up. I am perfectly fine with that.”

I’m Intolerant of You

, , , | | Right | July 19, 2019

(I am waiting to pick up my order at a small local diner when a lady approaches the counter. She has a good look at the menu.)

Employee: “Hello, ma’am, are you ready to order?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’d like to have the [burger], but I’m lactose intolerant. Can you tell me if that’s lactose-free?”

Employee: “Yes, that burger is indeed lactose-free.”

Customer: “And the sauce?”

Employee: “Yes.”

Customer: “No dairy products?”

Employee: “No dairy products.”

Customer: *suddenly getting irate* “TELL ME WHAT’S IN THE SAUCE!”

Employee: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that, but I assure you it’s lactose-free.”

Customer: “I WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S IN THE F****** SAUCE! IT CAN’T BE THAT DIFFICULT, CAN IT?”

Employee: “Again, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that because it’s our secret recipe. However, if you would like to ask me for certain ingredients that you might be allergic to, I’ll be happy to tell you whether we use them or not.”

Customer: *still irate* “Milk?”

Employee: “No.”

Customer: “Yoghurt?”

Employee: “No.”

Customer: “Cheese?”

Employee: “No.”

Customer: “Any other dairy products?”

Employee: “As I told you before; no dairy products!”

Customer: *suddenly back to normal* “Okay, then. I’ll have two of those. Just make sure not to put any cheese on it.”

I’m Mo-Telling On You!

, , , , | | Right | July 19, 2019

(The city has just started a month-long arts festival, and there is also a motocross championship happening, so you can’t get a motel room easily. I’m checking into a cheap motel with an okay reputation, just happy to get a room at short notice. I’m checking in early and know that I might have to wait a little while before the room is ready. I’m filling out the registration form while the receptionist is on the phone. A well-dressed lady in her 40s storms in.)

Lady: *to me* “Urgh! This place is disgusting. You’re not staying here, are you?”

Me: “Actually, I am.

Lady: “Well, don’t. It’s disgusting — definitely not worth [price]!”

Receptionist: *off the phone* “Hello. Checking out?”

Lady: *throws room keys at him* “Yes, and I want a refund now!

Receptionist: “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?”

Lady: “The mirror is smashed; I could have seriously hurt myself. There’s no parking, I had to park on the street, and the room reeks of cigarette smoke.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, I explained yesterday that it had just been broken and that we would replace it, but you didn’t want to wait. Parking shouldn’t be a problem; we have more than enough spaces.”

Lady: “When there are a bus and a four-wheel drive with a trailer there are not!”

Receptionist: “We have allocated spots for large vehicles. Did you try closer to the office?”

Lady: “Well, how was I meant to know about that?! It’s not like I work here.”

Receptionist: “Anything else, ma’am?”

Lady: “The room reeks of cigarette smoke. I’m allergic. It nearly killed me.”

Receptionist: “We have extremely sensitive smoke alarms in the rooms and bathrooms that would have had the fire brigade here if someone smoked in the room.”

Lady: *huffing, now really angry* “This place is disgusting. I’m putting a review on [Travel Website] and talking to a lawyer.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, you arrived last night when we were full. We managed to get a room ready when someone had checked out early. I explained about the mirror when you inspected the room, and you stayed over checkout by two and a half hours and didn’t bring this to my attention. I can’t help you, but the owner will be here tomorrow if you want to talk to them.”

(The lady storms out, cursing.)

Receptionist: *takes a deep breath* “I’m so sorry about that.”

Me: “That’s fine, not your fault.”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, your room isn’t quite ready yet. It is room eight, the room she complained about, but once it’s ready you can inspect it and the mirror can be fixed later this afternoon.”

(He looks scared that I will cause a scene.)

Me: “It’s okay. I’ll just go and get a coffee up the road, and I’m sure the room’s fine. She’s just a b****.”

(The receptionist looks relieved and laughs a little. I leave as more people come in. Twenty minutes later, I get the call to check in. The room doesn’t smell of smoke, there is a small amount of damage to the bottom of the bathroom mirror where the glass has been removed, and there is plenty of parking, just not right beside the room. Later, when I check out, both the receptionist and owner are there, with the owner on the phone in the back office.)

Receptionist: “Miss [My Name], I hope the room was acceptable.”

Me: “It was fine. The mirror didn’t bother me, I couldn’t smell smoke — I have severe allergies — and I found the parking fine. I really appreciate the early check-in. Thank you. I’m lucky to have gotten a great room so cheap at this time.”

Owner: “Hi, are you the lady that stayed in room eight last night?”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

Owner: “Can you please tell me what happened?”

(I recount what happened, and I give my impression of the room and the great job the young receptionist did.)

Owner: “Thank you. I just had that other woman on the phone demanding a refund, saying that [Receptionist] yelled at her and called her a rich b****, and that [Receptionist] had been smoking when she inspected the room.”

(I was given a discount on my room by the owner and thanked by the receptionist and wished a safe trip. As I was about to drive away, the receptionist ran out with bags of drinks and snacks, more than enough to keep me going through my eight-hour drive home, as a thank-you. Seriously, lady, you check into a cheap motel at one of the busiest times of the year, when other motels are charging up to five times their normal rates, for under $100, and expect five stars?!)

Her Intent Is Deafeningly Clear

, , , , , | | Right | July 19, 2019

(I work in a fast food franchise that specializes in sandwiches and curly fries. I wear hearing aids. Three customers come up, and the following happens:)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]; order whenever you’re ready.”

Customer #1: “I’d like a [meal #1] with fries and a drink, thanks.”

Me: “All right. Would you like to make it small, medium, or large?”

Customer #1: “Just a large, thank you.”

Me: “Sounds good.”

Customer #2: “I’d like a [meal #2].”

Me: “Would you like it as a combo?”

Customer #2: “Sure.”

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer #2: “Medium, please.”

Me: “All right, and you?”

Customer #3: “I’d like a [sandwich #3], no fries or drink.”

Me: “All right. I have a [meal #1] with a large drink and fries, a [meal #2] with a medium drink and fries, and a [sandwich #3]. Is there anything else?”

Customer #3: “That’s not what I ordered!”

(Something about their tone makes me think there is going to be trouble.)

Me: “Ma’am, if you’d like, I can get the manager.”

Customer #3: “Do it!”

(I go and get the manager, who takes the order again on the other register and sure enough, it’s the exact same.)

Customer #3: “I didn’t order any of that!”

Manager: “It shows here [Customer #1] ordered a [meal #1] as a large, [Customer #2] ordered a [meal #2] as a medium, and you ordered a [sandwich #3].”

Customer #3: “I demand free food!”

Manager: “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that here.”

Customer #1: “We’re so sorry. I think she thinks she’s entitled to free stuff just because she noticed your worker is deaf and thinks she is ‘incompetent.’”

(The manager kicked out [Customer #3]. Sadly, I don’t work there anymore, but that is still my favorite manager to this day.)

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