Your Attempt At Free Food Is Toast

, , , , , | Right | November 10, 2017

(I work at a diner, which is part of a national chain. Our restaurant is located about a quarter-mile from one of the major cross-country interstates, so we get a lot of truckers and a lot of to-go orders. I am a hostess, but I am usually the one to take to-go orders, because they rarely tip and I’m not getting the reduced wage for tipped employees. This guy has called in for a sandwich and fries.)

Me: “Good evening. Welcome to [Diner]. Table for one?”

Customer: “No, I called in a to-go order for [Customer].”

Me: “Oh, yes, sir. I took the order and I just saw them put it in the window, so let me get that for you.”

(I go get his order from the pass-through window by the kitchen and put it in a bag with napkins and condiments.)

Me: “Okay, that’s a [Sandwich] with fries, and I’ve put ketchup, salt and pepper, and some napkins in the bag. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

(Up to now, this has been completely normal, but while I am saying this, he opens up the styrofoam box and starts poking at the food.)

Customer: “Go get me a manager.”

(I try to get him to tell me what was wrong, but all he says is to get a manager. Fortunately, the manager on duty notices that the transaction isn’t proceeding smoothly and comes over, so I don’t have to walk away from the register and leave him with the packaged but not paid-for food.)

Manager: “Sir, is there a problem?”

Customer: *poking at the sandwich* “This has been sitting under the lights forever. Look, the bread is all hard and crunchy!”

Manager: “Sir, [Sandwich] comes on toasted bread. It’s crunchy because that’s what happens to bread when you toast it.”

Me: “And it wasn’t sitting! They put it in the window while you were between the two doors in the entry!”

Manager: “If you wanted it on untoasted bread, we can remake it, but please remember to say that, next time.”

Customer: “And these fries are too hot! I could have hurt myself.”

(Yes, he has totally ignored what we said about the bread.)

Manager: “Well, I suppose that’s a problem that will correct itself while we’re remaking the sandwich, won’t it?”

Customer: “I eat at [Diner] restaurants all across the country, and it’s always terrible!”

Manager: “Then why do you keep coming back?”

(Sorry, buddy, your transparent attempt to bully us into free food won’t be working tonight!)

Your Sarcasm Has Got Legs

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | November 10, 2017

(My sister is 15 and has been in a wheelchair for her entire life; her legs won’t move, no matter what. She often gets comments, or asked why she’s in a wheelchair. Fifteen years of that have infused her with pure sass, an unhealthy dose of sarcasm, and a “f***-it-all” attitude. This time we’re shopping for clothes when an old lady marches up to her.)

Lady: “Why are you in a wheelchair? You don’t need that; you’re young and have good legs.”

(My sister then drops herself out of her wheelchair with and begins dragging herself around the shop.)

Sister: “Well, guess you were not so right, after all!”

(Luckily, this time I didn’t have to explain anything to the cashier; she couldn’t breathe due to laughing, anyway.)

Mint Thins Make You Anything But

, , , , | Right | November 10, 2017

(My two friends and I are high school Girl Scouts, and we are selling cookies outside of a store.)

Me: “Hi, would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?”

Customer: “Sure… I’ll have—”

Random Lady: *walking out of the store* “YOU GUYS RUINED MY DIET!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Deaf Jam

, , , , , , | Working | November 10, 2017

(At the store where I work, one of our overnight stockers is profoundly deaf. He usually works with another stocker who is partially deaf and can sign for him. One day, the other stocker is out sick, and the delivery that day is very large so the stockers are kept late and  are therefore still in the store when it opens. I’m working one aisle over from the deaf stocker when I hear a customer making a commotion.)

Customer: “Hello! HELLO! HEY! STOP IGNORING ME, YOU IDIOT!”

(I hurry over to see her standing behind the stocker, who is working on something and hasn’t noticed her there.)

Me: “Excuse me, can I help you?”

Customer: “No! This jerk is ignoring me! I want him to show me where the jam is and he won’t answer me!”

Me: “Ma’am, I can show you. It’s right over this way.”

Customer: “No! I want him to do it! Make him do it! Why is he ignoring me!?”

Me: “Ma’am, he is deaf. He can’t hear you and hasn’t seen you.”

(At this point, the stocker finally turns around. He waves hello and tries to go about his work, but the customer jumps in front of him and starts speaking in a very loud, exaggerated manner.)

Customer: “Where! Is! Jam! Show! Me! Jaaaam!”

Me:Ma’am. He cannot understand you. I can show you where the jam is.”

Customer: “No! I want him to do it. It’s the principle of the thing! He spent so long ignoring me, and now I will make him acknowledge me! He’s deaf, so he can read lips, so of course he can understand me!”

Me: “No, ma’am, he can’t read lips. Please, let me show you to the jam.”

(The customer keeps insisting that the deaf stocker be the one who helps her, so I give up and call over the manager, who knows some very limited sign language. He comes over, listens to what the customer has to say, and signs a short phrase to the stocker. The stocker signs something simple back, and walks off.)

Manager: “Ma’am, he says he didn’t mean to ignore you, and he’s very sorry he couldn’t understand you, but he only lip-reads in Spanish. Now, I’ll show you where the jam is.”

(After the customer has left I ask what he really signed.)

Manager: “I just told him to go work in another aisle. To the best of my knowledge, [Stocker] doesn’t understand a word of Spanish, either lip-read or written. I just figured that would be the best way to get the customer to let someone else help her without more of a scene. But d***, do I wish I could ban people like her from the store.”

Mail Order Disorder

, , , , , , , | Working | November 10, 2017

(I travel a lot and unfortunately have been getting sick a lot recently. I get a loud banging on my door, so I go check it and all I see is a pink slip from a delivery company that says, “vacant?” I go check my mail and there are three letters in there. A week later, I get the banging again and grab the door to see a postal worker standing there.)

Postal Worker: “You need to check your mail more! I thought you were vacant!”

Me: “I travel a lot, and I’ve recently been too sick to move. Usually I check it every other day.”

Postal Worker: “I don’t believe you! You have at least three weeks of mail piled up at the post office.”

Me: “Yeah, right. Also, you see that mezuzah on my door? Clear sign that it’s not vacant because Jews don’t leave a home without them. So, stop harassing me and give me the dumb slip so I can get my three weeks worth of junk mail!”

Postal Worker: “It’s in the mail box.” *he walks away*

Me: “No, it’s not! You were just writing it. I can see it in your hand!”

(No response.)

Me: “Fine! I’ll be there soon. I hope your coworkers got their flu shots!”

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