A Medium Rare Scare

, , , , | | Right | June 17, 2019

(I work in a really posh town, and most of our customers are posh, upper-class people. Most are really nice and friendly, but some try to act posher than they actually are and treat the waiters like dirt. One regular who acts like this comes in and is, as usual, obnoxious.)

Regular: “This glass is dirty, boy. Get another.”

Me: “Sorry about that.”

(I go behind the bar and pretend to get another glass. As I take it over to him and his wife, I ask if they’re ready to order.)

Regular: “Yes, I’ll have a steak, medium rare.”

Wife: “That.” *pointing to what she wants on the menu*

Me: “Okay, I’ll bring your food out shortly.”

(When their food is ready I bring it over.)

Regular: “This is not done enough; your chef is crap.”

Wife: “And this isn’t what I ordered.”

Regular: “Kids like you should go back to the gutter where you belong.”

Me: “Sorry, I’ll get the head chef right on it.”

(Again, I bring out their food when it’s ready.)

Regular: “What the h*** is wrong with you people? This still isn’t right!”

Me: “I’ll go get the chef.”

Regular: “No! I want the manager!”

Me: “He is the owner, as well.” *calls over to the kitchen* “Hey, [Chef], someone has a problem with your cooking.”

(After a few seconds a figure appears at the doorway. Our chef is almost seven feet tall, and as he believes in trying all his food before it’s served, is a little well built. Plus, as he has just been chopping vegetables, he still has a long, sharp knife in his hand.)

Chef: “Sir, I have over forty years of experience cooking for Her Majesty, the Queen, all without one meal being sent back. Now, if my food is good enough for her, it’s good enough for your scrawny neck. And I can overhear everything that’s said to my staff, so the next time you open your mouth, picture me before you speak, you human question mark.”

(After that, no one’s had any trouble from those customers.)

Reaching New Heights Of Absurdity

, , , , , | Right | April 5, 2019

(My parents have gone to the cinema. There are two screens at this cinema: [Screen #1], which is larger and has a balcony, and [Screen #2], which is smaller and doesn’t have a balcony. Balcony seats cost a bit extra. My parents are waiting to buy their tickets and a couple of women are in front of them.)

Woman #1: “Hi. We’d like two tickets for [Film in Screen #2].

Cashier: “No problem. That will be [price].”

Woman #2: “Oh, we want balcony seats.”

Cashier: “Oh, I’m sorry, but that screen doesn’t have a balcony.”

Woman #2: “But we want balcony seats! We’re happy to pay!”

Cashier: “I’m afraid [Screen #2] doesn’t have a balcony. Only [Screen #1] has a balcony, and it is showing [Film in Screen #1]. [Film in Screen #2] is only showing in [Screen #2], and there is no balcony.”

Woman #1: “Well, can’t you switch them over?”

Cashier: “I’m sorry?”

Woman #1: “Can’t you put [Film in Screen #2] into [Screen #1], and then we can have balcony seats?”

Cashier: “Um, no, I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

Woman #2: “This is disgraceful! Why won’t you let us go into the balcony?”

(This goes on for a couple of minutes before the women finally buy their tickets for [Film in Screen #2] and angrily enter to take their seats. My parents advance to the counter.)

Mum: “Two tickets for [Film in Screen #2], please. And we’ll take the non-balcony seats.”

Cashier: *laughs* “No problem!”

Drunk Discussions Should Be Tabled

, , , , , , , , | Friendly | March 27, 2019

(Some friends of mine have gotten together. One of the group is American and is visiting the UK for a few days. As the evening goes on, and drink has been drunk, one of the friends drunkenly starts telling the American friend all sorts of “facts” about his own country, resulting in this gem.)

Drunk Friend: *to American Friend* “…and America is big, you know? It’s bigger than this table!”

You’ve Been Monroed

, , , , , , , | Friendly | March 18, 2019

(I’m at the park with my young son and my best friend. As we are sitting down having lunch, a couple of attractive girls walk past. It’s summer, so they’re in skirts. Just as they are nearly out of earshot, my friend mutters to me.)

Friend: “Where’s a gust of wind when you want one?”

Son: *quite loudly* Daddy, why does Uncle Jay want the wind to blow those ladies dresses up?

(The ladies turned to look at us and then walked away with a look of both amusement and disgust whilst my friend and I laughed and I tried to hush my son.)

Yacht Would You Like For Breakfast?

, , , , | Friendly | March 8, 2019

(My friend has a boat that’s currently on dry land, as we are doing some essential winter repairs. I’ve just reconnected all the cabling for the ship-to-shore radio, which hasn’t functioned properly for months due to some old cables that needed to be replaced. We settle down with anticipation for the first test of the radio, a simple call to the nearby marina, asking for a radio check. The marina we call up has a slight reputation for being a bit stuffy and straight-laced.)

Me: “Calling [Marina], this is [Yacht], just asking for a radio check, please. Over.”

(There’s ten seconds of silence, during which my friend’s face falls, until:)

Marina: “Good morning, [Yacht]. We’re receiving you, but just to let you know, there’s a lot of static; it sounds like you’re frying eggs and bacon in the background. Over.”

(That’s probably due to a weak connection somewhere, but we’re just glad it worked the first time!)

Me: “Thank you, [Marina]. We’ll stop cooking breakfast as soon as possible. Over.

Marina: “Three orders of eggs and chips, please, [Yacht]. Over and out.”

(I finally managed to clear up the issues with the static, but these mad little moments are to be treasured!)

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