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You’ll Pay (Twice) For That!

, , , , | Right | September 15, 2017

(It’s a busy lunch and I am the only manager in the store. A customer comes in from the drive-thru with a messed-up order. One of my crew members steps over to help him. She re-rings in the missing food so the grill team knows to make it, and hands the customer his receipt with a zero balance and his order number on it.)

Crew #1: “Your order number is 260. I’ll have it up for you in just a minute.” *she gets the food and hands it to him, telling him to have a nice day*

Customer: *to another crew person who just came up front* “Why are you charging me?”

Crew #2: *thinking he is joking, because we have several regulars who play around like this frequently* “We can’t just give out food for free.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. Why are you charging me? I want to speak to the manager.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. What is the problem?”

Customer: “I came through the drive through and you forgot half my order. Now you’re charging me. This is going to cost me more in credit card fees than the food is worth. I shouldn’t have to pay twice.”

Me: “You didn’t pay twice. Your food is right here. I’m sorry for the mix up.”

Customer: “I weigh 240 pounds! One sandwich isn’t going to last me all day. You can’t charge me twice! I don’t mean to be rude, but this is ridiculous.”

Me: “Sir, I’m not really sure what the problem is. I’m sorry we missed some of your order, but it’s right here now. No one is charging you again.”

Customer: “I shouldn’t have to pay again; this is insane.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t understand the problem.”

Customer: “That girl told me I owed her $2.60.”

Me: “No. She told you your customer order was 260. It’s how we make sure each customer gets the right order.”

Customer: “Then why did she give me a receipt?”

Me: “So you would know your order number?”

Customer: “Oh. Sorry.”

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Milking The Comments Box For All It’s Worth

, , | Right | September 13, 2017

(I work at a grocery store that offers customers 50 free fuel points in exchange for a survey.  Whenever a customer completes a survey, they get 50 fuel points added onto their rewards card. The survey also comes with a comments section, which associates can read off a paper in the back room. This is one of them.)

Comment: “I WASN’T SURE HOW TO TELL THE BAGGER I WANTED MY MILK IN A BAG WHEN THEY ASKED BECAUSE I DID NOT WANT MY MILK TO LEAK. SURE ENOUGH, AS SOON AS I GOT HOME, MY MILK HAD LEAKED.

(A simple “yes” would suffice when baggers ask if the customer wants their milk in a bag…)

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Nothing Fun About Minimum Wage

, , , , | Working | September 11, 2017

Boss: “So, [My Name], what do you do for fun?”

Me: “You don’t pay me enough to afford ‘fun’.”

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Don’t Have A Cow, Man

, , , | Related | August 28, 2017

(My family is visiting some close friends. I am about twelve, and the friends’ daughters are eight and ten. We are sitting around the table enjoying dinner. My dad thinks he’s hilarious. He looks over at their youngest daughter’s plate.)

Dad: “Oh, you know that’s monkey meat right?”

(My friends’ parents start frantically waving their hands in the “No” and “Stop” fashion.)

Dad: “Oh… I’m just kidding; that’s really just cow meat.”

(My friends parents wave more frantically.)

Friend’s Dad: “[Dad], stop… right now meat comes from the store.”

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The Truth Is A Dish Best Served Clean

, , , | Related | August 23, 2017

(My family has a magnet on the dishwasher that says clean when turned one way and dirty when turned the other. One day, I go to get a snack and find no clean plates. The dishwasher magnet is turned to clean, though, so I pull a plate out of the dishwasher and use that. When I’m done eating, I start unloading the dishwasher. My sister walks in and looks at what I’m doing in confusion.)

Sister: “Why are you unloading the dishwasher?”

Me: “Because that’s what you do with clean dishes.”

Sister: “But they’re not… Oh. Oops!”

Me: *stopping unloading* “Oops?”

Sister: *looking guilty* “I may have forgotten to turn the magnet around.”

Me: *thinking that at least the plate was rinsed* “All right. Help me get the dirty dishes back in the dishwasher.”

Sister: *still looking guilty*

Me: “[Sister]. What is it?”

Sister: “[Dog] may have licked off some of the dishes.”

Me: “Ew! He licks his own butt! I ate off one of those plates.”

Sister: *still looking guilty*

Me: “There’s more?”

Sister: “When I took him for a walk earlier… I swear I stopped him as soon as I could, but…”

Me: “What did he eat?”

Sister: “Some other dog’s poop.”

Me: *leaving the dishes* “Okay, this is now officially your mess to clean up. Excuse me while I go throw up.”

(I wish I could say she was more careful with the magnet after that, but she was not. At least I learned to always check if the dishes are actually clean.)

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