Having A Midday Crisis

, , , | Right | February 6, 2018

(I work as a waitress in a nice, small restaurant. You can get a particular midday dish from 11:00 am until 2:00 pm. One evening, an upset woman comes into our restaurant.)

Customer: “Why can’t I get the midday dish in the evening?”

Me: “Because it’s the midday dish, and it’s not midday anymore.”

Customer: “The midday dishes you offer are so nice compared to the s*** on your small menu.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that you don’t like the offerings on our menu.”

Customer: “It’s so stupid that you don’t offer that dish all day!”

Me: “We are just a small restaurant, and our cook already offers a lot of different dishes, freshly made for you. But I can ask the cook. If he has something left from the midday, you can still get this dish.”

Customer: “I just can’t understand why I can’t get this dish in the evening!”

Me: “Like I said, it is no problem to ask the cook; he will be willing to prepare this dish for you.”

Customer: “Now I don’t want it anymore.” *walks off*

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Wendy Wouldn’t Have Put Up With It

, , , , | Right | February 5, 2018

(I recently dyed my hair a bright copper red. It’s pretty eye-catching, and I regularly get comments about how I work for the wrong chain because I look like the Wendy’s logo. Usually I just laugh, but this guy is something else. Note: I wear a nametag.)

Customer: “Hey, is your name Wendy?”

Me: *laughs a little* “Nope, afraid not.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yup. I’m 100% positive my name is [My Name]. Did you want your sandwich toasted?”

Customer: “Oh. Well, then, you should go work at Wendy’s!”

Me: *courtesy laughing* “I’m pretty happy here, actually. Sorry, was your sandwich toasted?”

(During this exchange, the line behind him is growing longer and longer, and the guy behind him has started tapping his feet.)

Customer: “But you can’t work here. You need to work at Wendy’s!”

Me: “Well, maybe one day. But right now, I work here. I’m sorry, sir, but I need to know if your sandwich is toasted or not.”

Customer: “But your hair is so red!”

(At this point I give up and assume he doesn’t want it toasted.)

Me: “What kind of veggies would you like?”

Customer: “Oh.” *gives list of veggies he wants* “You just look like Wendy. Oh, I wanted that toasted, though.”

(I had, by this point, put on all the vegetables. The worst part was that he came in and did more or less the same thing two more times! The fourth time he came in, I hid in the back and made my coworker deal with him. He still asked where the “Wendy’s girl” was.)

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Doesn’t Have 20/20 Delivery

, , , | Working | February 5, 2018

(I’m at home when the doorbell rings unexpectedly. It’s a pizza delivery driver. I haven’t ordered pizza.)

Driver: “Your pizza!”

Me: “I didn’t order pizza.”

Driver: “This is number 20, right?”

Me: “Yes.”

Driver: “So, it’s your pizza.”

Me: “I didn’t order any; it’s not for me.”

Driver: “20 [Address] Street?”

Me: “Sorry, this is [Address] Road. [Address] Street is the first on the left there.”

Driver: “You’re number 20?”

Me: “No, you’re on the wrong road. Take the first on the left.”

Driver: “You are number 20, see?”

(He points at the number by my door.)

Me: “Yes, but this is the wrong road. Sorry.”

Driver: “Is something wrong? Why don’t you want your pizza?”

Me: “It’s not my pizza! This is the wrong house!”

Driver: “Number 20, right?”

(I shut the door. A couple of seconds later, he rings the bell again, holding it down for at least 30 seconds until I open the door again.)

Driver: “You must take your pizza! I have more deliveries to do.”

Me: “It is not my pizza. You are at the wrong house.”

(He thrust the pizza into my hands and got back into his car. I walked the 30 seconds around the corner and gave the pizza to the people who’d ordered it. We do sometimes get deliveries for [Address] Street, but I’ve never had a driver refuse to admit they’re wrong before!)

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No Such Thing As A Free Movie

, , , , | Right | February 5, 2018

(I am scanning in some returned movies when a mom and her young son approach with movies to rent. I pull up her account and notice there are about $7 worth of late fees.)

Me: “All right, ma’am, there is a balance on your account. Would you like to take care of all of it today?”

(I think she will, considering she is wearing designer clothes.)

Mother: “What movies were they for?”

(I look them up and tell her that the kids’ movies were all about 13 days late, meaning about $3 for each movie was added as a late fee.)

Mother: “But those were free kids’ movies!”

Me: “Well, yes, it’s free to rent them, but it’s sort of like the library. If they’re late, there’s a charge.”

Mother: *yelling* “NO, THEY WERE FREE. TAKE THAT OFF!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. They were extremely late, so I cannot take the charges off.”

Mother: “Fine! We’re leaving and never coming back!”

Me: *as she’s leaving* “Okay, bye!”

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The Confusing Battle Between Light And Dark

, , , , , | Working | February 5, 2018

(I am pre-opening for the first time by myself, not because I’m ready, but because the coworker who was supposed to do it didn’t show up, without any warning or explanation. So, when I arrive for the beginning of my shift, five minutes before we open, I’m struggling to get the over half-an-hour’s worth of work that I am still unfamiliar with finished a quickly as possible. One of the jobs is filtering the oil in the fryers, which I’m actually fairly confident I know how to do. However, I still haven’t been able to figure out how to tell which ones need to be filtered. But I remember one piece of advice my manager told me previously.)

Manager: *previously* “The lighter color in the oil means more sugar. More sugar means it’s older.”

(My manager eventually shows up and we can open.)

Manager: “[My Name], why did you filter this oil?”

Me: “Well, I wasn’t really sure which one to do until I remembered you saying that the lighter color means there’s lot of sugar in it.”

Manager: “WHAT?! Who told you that?! The lighter color means it’s new. Filtering the new oil makes it dirtier.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. So, the darker oil is the old oil?”

Manager: “What?! No! You see this color here?” *she directs me over to the fryers* “See, the lighter color means there’s lots of sugar in it, and that means it’s older.”

Me: “But I filtered the lightest one, and you just said that was the new oil.”

Manager: “No. Look. You see how the color is darker now than before you filtered it?”

Me: “Yes.”

Manager: “When it’s that light color, it means it’s new.”

Me: “So… New oil is light, and then it gets dark with use, and then it gets lighter from sugar?”

Manager: “What?”

Me: “So, I should filter the lightest one that’s not almost clear? So, the second lightest one?”

Manager: “What?! No! You filter the lightest one.”

Me: “I did filter the lightest one. You said that was the wrong one.”

Manager: “Because it was new oil. You can tell it’s new because of the lighter color.”

Me: “Okay, [Manager].”

(I spoke to my supervisor later, as well as a coworker more familiar with the kitchen. They both assured me that older oil is darker oil and I could just ignore anything my manager said to the contrary. And the coworker that skipped off work on a whim? He went on to do it repeatedly, at least once every week. For this behavior, he was – no, not fired – promoted.)

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