Needs A Profane Amount Of Restroom Breaks

, , , , | Right | April 19, 2018

(At our restaurant, which closes at 4:00 am and opens again at 10:00 am, the bathrooms close at midnight. They open again for neither love nor money, so at 2:00 am, I’m cleaning one of them.)

Random Dude: *kind of angrily* “Yo, can I use the restroom?”

Me: “Restrooms are closed. There’s a public restroom at the end of this building; it’s around the corner, on the left.”

(The guy mumbles something I can’t understand about his friend and the public restrooms, to the eventual effect of, “I don’t want to use those.”)

Me: “Restrooms are closed.”

Random Dude: “When do they open?”

Me: “10:00 am.”

Random Dude: *suddenly shouting* “Well, f*** you, too, b****!”

(I shrug and finish cleaning up the bathroom, and then come back behind the counter.)

Random Dude: *in the middle of talking to one of the managers* “That’s him! That’s the guy! He said, ‘F*** you! Restrooms are closed!’”

Me: “Sir, I did not use such language.”

(I continue to the back to put up the cleaning supplies, and when I return to the kitchen…)

Manager #1: “Did you really say that?

Me: “No, I did not.” *I relay the exchange* “—and then he started screaming profanities at me.”

Manager #2: “Yeah, I didn’t give him anything. I gave him the number to the franchising office, told him we were store number [other location’s number], and said your name was [Not My Name].”

(I nodded and continued with my shift.)

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Has No License To Help You

, , , , | Right | April 17, 2018

Me: *over intercom* “Missing driver’s license for [Female First Name], missing driver’s license for [Female First Name]. Come to the help desk to collect your driver’s license.”

Middle-Aged Female Customer: *a few minutes later* “Hi, I’m here to pick up a driver’s license?”

Me: “Okay. What is your relationship with the license holder? Mother? Aunt? Cousin?”

Middle-Aged Female Customer: “Huh?”

Me: “This license shows a girl of [younger age], and you don’t look like her. So, how do you know her?”

Middle-Aged Female Customer: “Why do you care? Just give me the d*** thing!”

Me: *starting to get suspicious* “Wait a minute. Let me check something with my manager.”

(I pretend to talk with a manager over the phone, while really just stalling for time. Sure enough, the real license holder comes up within a minute. She looks exactly like the picture from the license.)

Me: *hanging up* “Hello, are you [Female First Name]?”

License Holder: “Yes, I’m here to pick up a missing license.”

Middle-Aged Female Customer: “What? You b****! That’s mine!”

License Holder: “Yes, that’s you on the license with multiple piercings, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Completely looks like you.”

(The other customer is brown-haired, with brown eyes.)

Middle-Aged Female Customer: “Argh!”

License Holder: *turns to me* “License, please?”

(Shocker? I was in the same university as her, only two years ahead!)

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Getting Them A Hot Slice Of Justice

, , , , , | Right | April 14, 2018

(I work as a server at a chain pizza parlor. We’ve had our fair share of prank orders, rude customers, and scammers. A family of five enters the store to order. I am assigned as their server. They originally order their food for take-out, along with a two-liter bottle of pop. They then change their minds and want to eat in, instead. Since I’ve taken the order, I am assigned to serve their new table. As I walk up to do my required server intro, they are rude right away. This happens often, but how they react is off-base.)

Mother: “Don’t bother with the introduction; just get us our food and some glasses with ice for our pop.”

Me: “Well, my name is [My Name], and I’ll be your server. Just let me make sure with my manager that I can do that, since we sell our pop as fountain drinks for dinner.”

Father: “Why does it f****** matter? We paid for our pop already.”

Me: “I know that, sir, but we would lose money if everyone bought a two-liter when they ate in and didn’t order drinks. I have to clear it with my manager.”

(At this point, I discuss it with my manager and return to the table. The parents are glaring at me the entire way, while the kids sit quietly talking to one another.)

Me: “I apologize, but my manager says that two-liters aren’t allowed on the floor when eating in. I’d be happy to put it behind the counter for you and serve you drinks while you’re here.”

Mother: “You’re trying to take us for more f****** money after we already paid for our drinks?”

Me: “I’m not trying to do anything, ma’am. It’s company policy. I don’t get to make that decision.”

Mother: “Fine! Just take it and get us some water and our pizza.”

(She practically throws the bottle at me and I place it behind the counter. I take their order to them immediately when it comes out and ask if they need anything else.)

Father: “Our bill would be nice. We’ve been waiting forever for our food, and at this point we just want to go the f*** home.”

(I’m now sick of the abuse and slide their bill onto the table. I check my other tables and go in the back to start the dishes. I hear them approach the counter to speak with my manager.)

Mother: “Our server was rude. Our pizza was cold and took an hour to get out here. We couldn’t even eat it. And she wouldn’t let us drink our own d*** two-liter!”

Manager: “I apologize, miss, but our policy doesn’t allow two-liters on the floor when the purchaser is eating in. As for the other things, we could remake your pizza and give you a hot one for take out.”

(As they originally ordered for take-out, they’ve already paid.)

Father: “I just want my g**d*** money back. I ain’t paying for a s*** pizza my family couldn’t eat.”

Manager: “I can do that, as well, sir. Let me see your receipt and I will refund you for the pizza. But the other things on the bill I can do nothing about.”

(They calm down a little and finish the refund process. My manager tries to send me home for being incompetent. She was in the office the entire time this family was here.)

Manager: “Their food sat for 45 minutes, and I had to refund them! If you can’t serve properly, go home.”

(A coworker walks up as I shamefully go to clear the table, knowing they had their food the moment it came out.)

Coworker: “[My Name] was the best server she could be with how she was treated.”

(I bring the half of a pizza into the back and have my manager look at and feel it. It’s half gone and still freshly hot.)

Manager: “Son of a b****.”

(She stormed into the parking lot where the family was seemingly waiting for their car to heat. I nodded to my coworker and went back to work. The police were called and the parents were arrested. Turns out, they’d done this to several other restaurants in the area. The best part is, I got promoted for handling them with class.)

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Must Have Missed That In Train-ing

, , , , | Working | April 12, 2018

(After a long day of work, a few coworkers and I are waiting for the train. Suddenly, the emergency phone at the station — literally just a box on a pole — rings.)

Coworker: *after a pause* “I’m going to answer it.”

(Answers the phone.)

Coworker: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hello, sir. I am calling from Microsoft; your computer is in danger.”

Coworker: *huge grin* “You sure about that, mate?”

Caller: “Yes, sir. This is very serious. We need to fix this immediately.”

Coworker: “Mate, this is a train station.”

Caller: “Yes, I can see that here, which means your computer is very important.”

Coworker: “Nah, mate, this is a train platform. There is no computer here, just a phone on a pole.”

Caller: “Are you sure?”

Coworker: “Yup. How did you even get this number?”

Caller: “Um, never mind.” *hangs up*

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Granted, They Didn’t Know Who They Were Calling

, | Working | April 11, 2018

(I recently retired from a job with our county where my job duties included administering various government grants. The phone rings.)

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: *a young woman with a strong Indian accent* “Hello! I am calling from the Federal Government Grants Office. You have qualified today for an eight-thousand dollar government grant!”

(This is, of course, a variation on the Nigerian prince scam. In order to get the $8,000, you’ll be asked to provide financial details, including your bank information.)

Me: “Really? I didn’t apply for a grant.”

Caller: “Oh, no, ma’am, this is a perfectly free government grant you qualify for.”

Me: “How interesting! I used to be a grants administrator for the government. Can you tell me which agency—”

Caller: *click*

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