An Order Disorder

, , , , | Right | December 25, 2018

(I have a seasonal job making and selling pancakes at a Christmas market. It’s pretty packed. I have a backlog of twenty separate orders, which I have memorised, and I am just waiting for fresh pancakes to be cooked so I can start handing them out in the order I took them. All the customers have been informed of the process, and their rough queue position. The chef starts handing me pancakes so I can add the toppings.)

Me: *working as I put things on the pass for collection and call out orders* “Two chocolate… one chocolate, one strawberry… three just sugar… one apple and chocolate.”

(A customer from near the back of the queue runs up, past everyone else, and grabs order number four.)

Customer: “Oh, that’s not what I ordered at all! But I guess it’ll have to do!” *runs off before I can say anything*

Me: *speechless*

Customer In Front Of Me: “Did she just take my food?!”

1 Thumbs

The Daughter of Count Olaf And The Grinch

, , , , | Friendly | December 14, 2018

(My twins got into Kindergarten this summer, and they have a support club of parents raising extra money for the place. This ranges from selling cakes to encouraging sponsors to give something for certain events. Around Christmas, the town has stands reserved at the Christmas market that get used by all the different places and organisations who want to sell stuff to make money. The parents are encouraged to make cookies, jam, decorations, and such stuff to sell, and they need people to man the stand in two-hour shifts over the day. I am an avid baker, so I make a batch of very tasty gingerbread cakes and package them to sell, and volunteer for the six- to eight-pm shift. I encourage the Club to use a pay-what-you-want system this year, so instead of, say 50 cents for a little bag of homemade cookies, people are encouraged to just give a donation as they see fit. People love that, it seems, and when I get there, the stand is rather bare already. We still keep selling stuff. I go around to the nearby mulled wine sellers and offer cookies to people and tell them to come over and get some. After that, I am in the hut selling stuff, and so many people are like, “For the Kindergarten? Of course! Have 5€ for them!” and only take a couple of bags of cookies. But, of course, some people are just impossible. There is an older woman hovering over the free-sample dish we have. Her clothes are rather fancy, so she’s not likely a poor person by the look of her jewellery alone.)

Me: “Please, help yourself! These are made by the parents of [Kindergarten].”

Lady: “Oh, thanks! Don’t mind if I do!”

(She takes a cookie, exclaims it’s delicious, and takes another.)

Me: “I’m glad you like them! You are welcome to take a bag or two home if you want! Just give a little donation and the kiddies will thank you, as well.”

Lady: “No, absolutely not! I have no money at all.”

Me: “Well, you can give what you want, so you could just take a bag and give some small change. Like, 10 cents would be fine. Every little bit helps.”

Lady: “No, that is impossible; I have no money.”

(She takes two more sample cookies and eats them.)

Me: “Well, if you are that poor, here!”

(I give her a bag of some stuff; we have lots left over and will not sell out, anyway.)

Lady: “What? Is this free?”

Me: “Yes. Consider it a Christmas gift from the kids at [Kindergarten]. Nobody should be so completely out of money they can’t have cookies at Christmas.”

(She thanks me profoundly and goes off. The other people buying stuff make good for her at least thrice, exclaiming how nice that was and grumbling about cheap people. About 20 minutes later, I see a lady hovering over the sample dish again. I invite her to help herself, then spot the earrings again. She has taken off her hat and scarf, but I recognise it’s the lady from before.)

Lady: “Oh, can I take one for free?”

Me: “Yeah, sure. Take a free sample.”

Lady: “Can I get one of the bags, please? They are free, as well, right?”

Me: “No, the bags are not free. But you can donate whatever you see fit.”

Lady: “Oh, but I have no money at all. Can’t you give me one for free?”

Me: “I’m sorry, no. We want to raise money for the kids at [Kindergarten]. And still, if you have 10 cents it would be enough if you think it’s enough to give to the children.”

Lady: “But you gave away the bags earlier; I saw it! Why won’t you give me one?”

Me: “Because I know you are the only person I’ve given one to all evening, and nobody else so cheap came here after you. Please enjoy the free cookies you got earlier, but if you want more, please donate at least something.”

(She then slunk off and that was the end of it. The vast majority of the people were great, but there are some that will never get into the spirit of giving, only taking.)

1 Thumbs

Unfiltered Story #125645

, , , | Unfiltered | November 12, 2018

(I am working at a poetry event which has an outdoor market area for visitors; basically, a market in a field. The couple on the next stall come over, not twenty minutes after they even opened, with this:)

Vendor: “I can’t believe it, I’ve been f****** told off already by the organisers.”

Me: “Why? What did you do?”

Vendor: “I called a customer a c***.”

Me: “Wow. What did he do to earn that?”

Vendor: “Well, he was just messing up the displays, clearly wasn’t going to buy anything, and I didn’t sleep that well, plus I have a hangover.”

Me: “So did he buy anything?”

Vendor: “No!”

Me: “Then he wasn’t a customer, he was a browser. F*** him. C***.”

Unfiltered Story #123634

, | Unfiltered | October 16, 2018

I’d asked my mum to reserved a type of vegetables that I don’t know the name in Mandarin at the wet market. When I went to collect them, the vegetables seller gave me another type of vegetables. So I clarified with mum.

Me: Mum, I’d asked you to reserved (vegetable #1) but they gave me (vegetable #2).
Mum: Yeah, I’d told them to reserved it.
Me: But they said the vegetables you mentioned are (vegetable #2).
Mum: They clearly don’t know their vegetables!
Me: How can a vegetables seller not know the name of their vegetables?
Mum: …

The Mother Of All Dragon Sellers

, , , | Right | October 8, 2018

(I run a stall selling handmade plushies, quilts, scarves, and other knitting projects. As something to draw attention, I have a huge, six-foot, stuffed dragon as the centerpiece on my table, complete with horns, wings, sail, the works. It’s a very complicated piece, and one I’m quite proud of.)

Customer: “Hey, so, this dragon here. My kids would really like it for their room. Where did you get it from?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Well, I’m not really loving your $600 price tag for it. Wanted to see if I could get it for a cheaper price from wherever you bought it.”

Me: “Erm… I didn’t buy it, sir. I made it, just like I made everything else you see here.”

Customer: “Really? This looks way too high quality to be handmade.”

Me: “I can assure you it is.”

Customer: “Come on. Level with me here. Where did you buy this and can they offer me a better price?”

Me: “Okay, look, sir. I was willing to let your comments slide the first time, because yes, a lot of folk are shocked I can produce such high-quality plushies on my own. I am not, however, going to tolerate your continued insistence that it’s too good to be handmade, nor am I going to humor your desire to be a cheapskate by demanding I provide you with an alternative that will ensure I don’t get any money from you. The price of $600 is based on the cost of materials it took me to make the dragon, its size, the hours upon hours I spent sewing, stuffing, and cutting, and the cost of packaging it up so it won’t get damaged in transit. If that’s not to your liking, then you’re welcome to shop elsewhere.”

Customer: *pause* “How about I give you $300 for it?”

(I pick the dragon off the table and place it in a box behind my chair where it’s out of reach.)

Me: “I don’t think so, sir.”

(The customer scowled and walked off. I later sold the dragon at full price to another family.)

1 Thumbs