Not Berry Nice

, , , , | Right | February 13, 2018

(I work at a grocery store that is undergoing renovation, set to end a few weeks before Christmas. There are many “moments,” but this one takes the everlasting chocolate fudge cake. By this point, we have finished the remodel, and it is January, when this guy decides to yell at a coworker and me.)

Customer: “This is ridiculous!”

Me: “Can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “Yeah. Why were you doing all this construction with people still in the store?”

Me: “Sir, during the remodel we closed the store at nine pm when the construction guys came in to work overnight, so there would be less of an inconvenience to our customers.”

Customer: *shouting in our faces* “Well, it was an inconvenience! You remodeled for six months! You should have just closed the whole d*** store while it was under construction!”

(He storms off before I can reply that we need our paychecks from working here, and there is no union.)

Coworker: *whispering to me* “What. The. F***?”

(About six months later, I found out from a woman who knew that customer that he was banished from the local ski mountain for being irritating and rude to their employees, and he was also a trust-funder who hadn’t worked a day in his life. As for the groceries that he found it annoying to buy during our renovation? BERRIES. And, he refuses to buy our strawberries if they’re not on sale. This guy still comes in, and is still an annoying a**hole.)

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Very Accessible Back-Stabbing

, , , , , | Working | February 13, 2018

(I have to lay out a section at my job. I know I have to make everything accessible for our customers and I have tested it myself. The job needs to be complete for an inspection by our very strict owner. As I’m finishing, my manager comes along and decides to move one of the shelves I have put up so she can put other stock up high on the fixtures. I do feel a bit miffed that she’s changed my work but I don’t say anything. I tidy up where I am and go to move a basket where she is, but she tells me she’s still using it. That evening, I am relating a dream to a friend, who tells me that the meaning to that dream is that I have to keep an eye out for someone who’s about to stab me in the back. I get in after the owner has done his inspection and has already left.)

Manager: “[Owner] wasn’t very happy with how you left things. I had to tell him it was you who did that job. He said the work was unacceptable, so he wants to take it further, and I have to give you a verbal warning.”

Me: “Why? What was wrong with it?”

Manager: “You put the stock much too high for customers to reach.”

Me: “I don’t think I did; I’m not tall and the edges of the top shelves were at my head level. I didn’t have to stretch to take anything off them.”

Manager: “Well, what about how high the shelf with [items] on it is? Oh, wait a minute. I moved that, didn’t I? But what about [items]?” *I raise one eyebrow* “Oh, I did that, too, didn’t I? But what about the basket that was left on the floor?” *I keep my eyebrow raised and cross my arms* “Oh, that was me, too, wasn’t it?”

(I have no idea whether she’s recorded that she’s given me a verbal warning, but as I walk out of the office, much more miffed than I was last night, she still throws a little dig in.)

Manager: “So, you now know that you have to keep to the standards that [Owner] expects, don’t you? No excuses.”

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I’ve Told Them A Brazillion Times

, , , , , | Friendly | February 13, 2018

(My friend was born in Brazil. When he first moved to Australia, he spoke no English, but has since become fluent. This is a conversation I’ve witnessed a few too many times.)

Person: “So, you speak Brazilian, right?”

Friend: “There’s no such language as Brazilian. Brazilian people speak Portuguese.”

Person: “Why do Brazilians speak Portuguese instead of Brazilian? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Friend: “Why do Australians speak English instead of Australian? That doesn’t make any sense.”

(At this point, the other person’s mind usually implodes a little.)

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Pepperoni, Cheese, And A Lacking Understanding Of How Time Works

, , , | Right | February 13, 2018

(There is a big sport event near our restaurant. We are packed the whole day. In our restaurant, you pay your order beforehand at a counter. A customer with two kids orders three pizzas, and I inform them about our 40-minute wait. The customer seems to understand this and is fine with the wait. After 20 minutes, the customer comes to me at the counter.)

Customer: “We have waited at least an hour! This is ridiculous!”

Me: “I am terribly sorry for the wait. As you can see, we are full.”

Customer: “My kids are hungry! How dare you keep us waiting this long?! We are in a hurry, and we have waited an hour for just three pizzas!”

Me: “I am so sorry, ma’am. I’ll ask from the kitchen how your order is doing.”

(As I turn around, the chef puts the customer’s pizzas out, ready to be taken to tables.)

Me: “Good news! Your pizzas are ready, and I’ll take them to your table right now.”

Customer: “No! We have waited so long, and we need to get going! I am not eating those pizzas here; we do not have time!”

Me: “How about I put them in pizza boxes, so you can take them with you and eat on your way? Again, I am very sorry for the wait.”

Customer: “No, no! We don’t have time! I want a refund!”

Me: “It really takes almost no time at all for me to pack your pizzas, ma’am, so if you’ll–“

Customer: “I want a refund! I don’t care about those f****** pizzas anymore!”

(I do as the customer asks and start making the refund. It takes a bit of time, as the customer paid with credit card, so our system won’t allow us to refund in cash.)

Me: “Okay, now the money is back in your account. Please take some coffee as you go; it is free of charge for you. Again, I am very sorry about this.”

Customer: “You should be! Now my kids will be very hungry when we drive back home!”

(The customer left and I had to throw away their perfectly good pizzas.)

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You Have Many Grave Concerns, But This Won’t Be One Of Them

, , , , , , , , , | Romantic | February 13, 2018

(My friend is the maître d’ at a high-end restaurant. Reservations are always needed for dinner, but on holidays they can book weeks in advance. It is Valentine’s Day, and he has been fully booked for over a month. As you can imagine, people try to break rules to get a seat. This is the case when a man and woman arrive.)

Man: “You should have a reservation for two under ‘Graves.'”

Maître D’: “I don’t have any open reservations. What was the first name?”

Man: *sigh* “Abigail Graves.”

Maître D’: “Excuse me for a moment while I check.”

(My friend is confused at this point, because there is, in fact, a reservation under the name; however, he has already seated them ten minutes before, and the seated woman has given him the correct code from the reservation app. He decides to check with the seated Abigail. She is a visibly pregnant woman who is sitting with an older woman.)

Maître D’: “Excuse me for bothering you, but a couple has arrived claiming to be under your reservation.”

(At this point, the pregnant woman starts to cry and the older woman looks furious.)

Older Woman: “The nerve of him! He probably has her with him.”

Abigail: “Grandma! Please! Look. Two weeks ago, I walked in on my boyfriend in bed with another woman. He’s been making my life miserable because I left him. He won’t let me come get my dog, and he has been following me. I can’t believe he is here. He fought with me when I made the reservation. If you seat him, I can’t look at him. I’ll have to leave… I…”

Maître D’: “Miss, please don’t worry. I will handle the situation. You and your grandmother just have a lovely Valentine’s dinner.”

(The owner sees the woman crying, and asks what the situation is. My friend quickly fills him in, and the owner says he wants to handle this personally. As they are walking back towards the door, the owner pauses.)

Owner: “What name was the reservation under?”

Maître D’: “Graves.”

Owner: *grinning ear to ear* “That’s what I thought.”

(They get to the rather peeved-looking man and woman a moment later.)

Owner: “I’d like you to know that I looked at the reservations. This restaurant doesn’t have any spare ‘Graves’ to seat you in. However, cheating on a pregnant woman means you deserve to be lying in one. Show yourself out.”

Man: “You have some nerve.”

Owner: “No? Okay, [Security Staff], escort them out.” *to Maître D’* “Please comp her meal. It’s not every day I can threaten someone using puns.”

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