Right Working Romantic Related Learning Friendly Healthy Legal Inspirational Unfiltered

Wines And Dines On Your Dimes

, , , , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(My wife and I are having dinner at a restaurant. While we both order at the same time, my wife receives her food while I receive nothing. We continually call our waitress down to find out what is happening, and she insists it is being taken care of. Because I don’t want my wife to wait, I let her finish. After an hour and a half, our waitress comes with our bill.)

Waitress: “I hope you have enjoyed your meal.” *walking away*

Me: “Hold on.” *looking at the bill and seeing my order and a substantial tip* “Where is my order?”

Waitress: “Your order? Well, surely you’ve eaten it.”

Wife: “No, he hasn’t.”

Waitress: “I distinctly remember bringing it out to you. If you could just please pay the bill at the front, thank you.”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. Could I please see the manager?”

(The waitress brings the manager and I explain the situation.)

Manager: “Well, this is the most ridiculous scam I’ve ever heard. Do you seriously expect me to believe it?”

Me: “Does it look like I’ve eaten?” *gesturing to my side of the table, which has been left virtually untouched since it was laid out* “I haven’t even been given my wine!”

Manager: “Well, it certainly does. Please excuse me for a moment.”

(The manager goes into the kitchen and I hear a loud clattering of pans and someone screaming, “WHAT, AGAIN?” The door bursts open, and a large man storms up to me. I’m secretly praying for my life, as I’m expecting to him to send me to Hell, but as he approaches the table he turns and faces our waitress.)

Chef: “All right, what did you do with it?”

Waitress: *blushing* “I don’t know what you mean!”

Chef: “Really?” *sniffs at her mouth* “You stink of merlot.”

(That’s the wine I ordered. Our waitress covers her mouth while the chef walks to the waiting station and starts tearing it apart. He comes back with a plate of a partially-consumed meal.)

Chef: “Sir, could I please ask what you ordered?”

(I show him the receipt.)

Chef: *to the waitress* “I don’t know who you think you are, but this is unacceptable. You’re fired.”

Waitress: “YOU CAN’T FIRE ME! MY DADDY’S THE MANAGER!”

Chef: “Really? Well, let me introduce you to the owner: me. You–” *to another waiter* “–take this gentleman’s order again, and everything is free of charge. I’ll get ‘daddy’ to take her home.”

(Our entire meal was free, although I didn’t eat in the restaurant; we were given it to go. The restaurant lost two staff that night: the manager and his daughter. We were offered free meals there in the future, but sadly, we moved out of the city a couple of months later and never ate there again. This was the first and last time something like this had ever happened to us.)

A Noteworthy Turnaround

, , , , , | Learning | November 16, 2017

(I’m 15 years old and a sophomore. Recently, I took a couple of days off school due to a nasty sinus infection. Before she drops me off, my mom gives me my doctor’s note and I head inside. A couple of hours later, I get called into the office of one of the three assistant principals.)

Assistant Principal: “So, [My Name], did you know we call the doctor’s office to verify sick notes?”

Me: “Um, I guess?”

Assistant Principal: “Since you have a clean record, you’ll only get one day of lunch detention if you confess.”

Me: “Huh? Confess to what?”

Assistant Principal: *gets a creepy smile on his face and calls for the receptionist* “You changed the dates on your note.”

Me: “What?! No I didn’t. I only got it from my mom when she dropped me off! I didn’t have time to do that.”

(The receptionist comes in and says the office only confirmed one day of my absence, not the three I needed. They go back and forth accusing me and telling me I’ll get a week’s lunch detention for lying. Finally, in tears, I take out my cell phone and get them to call my mom at work.)

Assistant Principal: “Hello, Mrs. [Last Name]. This is your daughter’s principal at [School]. She’s hysterical and wanted us to call you because the dates on her doctor’s note were changed. She says she didn’t do it, but…”

(There’s a long pause and his smile slowly fades away. He looks between me and the receptionist.)

Assistant Principal: “W-well, yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Yes, ma’am, I will. But just for future reference, you can’t do th—”

(He pauses again and gives me back my phone.)

Assistant Principal: “So, your mother says she changed the note. Just tell her she can’t do that next time.”

(They got rid of the detention notice on my records and sent me on my way. I get having to punish kids who do mess up, but maybe don’t look like you’re enjoying it so much?)

Questions That Break The Bank

, , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(I have just had my bat mitzvah and it is common to get money donations as gifts. My dad wants to open an investing account for me, and we need to call our bank’s 24-hour trading line to open it. The person on the other line is asking me questions that are difficult for a 12-year-old, and I constantly have to ask my dad for the answers.)

Bank: “I’m sorry; we need your answer. You can’t be speaking to anyone else.”

Me: “But I’m 12! I don’t know my SIN number off by heart. Can’t I let my dad speak for me?”

Bank: “No, it has to be you.”

Me: “But I can’t answer them without speaking to my dad.”

Bank: “Just answer the question!”

Me: “I don’t know my SIN off by heart. I’m looking for it!”

Bank: “Okay, forget it. How much do you have in the account currently?”

Me: “I don’t know! Let me log in.”

Bank: “I don’t think you’re really [My Name]. I’m freezing the account; you’ll have to come in to prove you’re really [My Name].”

(My dad wrote a letter to corporate, and now there’s a note in my file that says all my personal questions can be answered by me or my dad until I’m 18.)

You’ve Been Selected For A Random Credit Check

, , , , , | Working | November 16, 2017

(During my week of exploring professional opportunities in the Boston metro area, I sign up to attend an evening networking event at a hotel. For what it’s worth, I am an Indian-American, with no accent, and this hotel is in an affluent, predominantly Caucasian suburb just west of Boston. I arrive at the hotel several hours early and plan to work on my other job search activities while having a late lunch. The waitress immediately seats me and gives me a menu. I order my sandwich.)

Waitress: “Okay, so, that is [sandwich] and just water. Great! I will immediately place your order. Now, I just need to keep your credit card on file.”

Me: “Um, why would you need to keep my credit card with you?”

Waitress: “Well, that is our policy for our hotel guests.”

Me: “I’m not a guest here; I’m a little early for an evening networking event on your patio.” *points to the outdoor space just past the patio doors* “Also, I have never experienced or heard of this type of hotel restaurant policy. Don’t you keep hotel tabs?”

Waitress: “Oh.” *pause* “Well, I still need to hold onto your credit card. It is our policy.”

Me: “Well, I will just pay for my meal with cash instead.”

Waitress: “You can pay with cash… and I still need to hold onto the card.”

(At that point, I am very upset with this terrible treatment and decide to leave.)

Me: “This is absolutely horrible service! You clearly do not want to serve me. I am going complain to your management!”

(Still fuming, I ask the front desk person if this hotel has a policy on keeping guests’ credit cards “on file” while they are dining in the restaurant.)

Front Desk Staff: *with a completely bewildered expression* “Um, no, ma’am. I have never heard of that policy, and I am certain it is not our hotel’s policy. I am very sorry you experienced that from our restaurant staff.”

(In the end, another coffee shop gave me two free desserts after hearing this story. I also returned to the hotel for the networking program, walked straight through that same restaurant with no problems, and enjoyed that event.)

You Say Tomato, I Say Fair Price!

, , , | Right | November 16, 2017

In recent years, a local farm has set up a booth in town to sell their produce. I was in to pick up some of their tomatoes. The owner and a customer were blocking that display. While I waited for my turn, I heard the customer say:

“But I can get tomatoes for ninety-nine cents a pound at [Supermarket].”

I figured the customer was trying to talk the owner down on price so I wandered over to a different display until the customer walked away. Finally, I was able to get my tomatoes.

As I was paying the owner, I said, “This may be all we eat for dinner tonight. Your tomatoes just have more flavor than the ones at [Supermarket]!”

The owner, who is known to be a bit gruff, gave me a genuine smile.

When I turned around, I was face-to-face with the argumentative customer. He was glaring at me. I heard the owner chuckle quietly as I walked away.