Why Don’t You Just Level Up And Die

, , , , , , | Related | January 11, 2018

(My sister is playing a video game when I hear a piano riff that plays when your in-game character dies.)

Me: “Did you just die?”

Sister: “Yup.”

Me: “It’s funny how I’ve already learned to recognize the sound of you dying.” *brief pause* “That sounds really creepy when you take it out of context.”

Don’t Know What They’ve Been Eating On That Ranch

, , , , | Right | January 4, 2018

(A woman and her teenage daughter approach the order counter.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

Mother: “I’ll have the Caesar salad.” *to her daughter* “What will you have, honey?”

Daughter: “What’s on the Chicken Bacon Ranch?”

Me: “Um, chicken… bacon… and ranch?”

(The mother burst into laughter as her daughter turned bright red.)

Managed To Re-Coup Their Business

, , , , , | Right | January 4, 2018

(Almost every Sunday a large family comes into the mall to eat lunch together in the food court. Five of these people frequent our restaurant. They spend a lot of money and are decently behaved, but they are always demanding, and the old man among them always likes to reach into our container of potato chips with his bare hands. We have developed methods to deal with them and keep them out of things they shouldn’t be touching for sanitary reasons, so luckily the family has become less of a dreaded Sunday chore. I’m working the cash register for this particular visit.)

Me: “Hello, I see you’re having the full salad with soup today? Anything to drink?”

Old Man’s Middle Aged Son: “No, thank you. Could you punch these coupons for me, though?” *he hands me three punch coupons, all of them with a varying number of punches, and rattles off what the rest of his family is having*

Me: “I can certainly punch these for you once the order is complete, but I’m not supposed to punch them until everything is paid for.”

Old Man’s Middle Aged Son: “What? You expect me to walk all the way to my table, and then all the way back up here to get my coupons back? That’s just stupid!”

(The coupon policy is in place mostly because sometimes people’s cards won’t go through after we punch the card, so then we have to give the punch card back to them with a free punch, basically. I know the old man, who usually pays, has never had such a problem or pays with cash. As the supervisor on duty I could probably make the exception, but the son is rude so I decide to be difficult.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but that’s just our policy.”

(The son continues to act like a spoiled child despite his age, when one of the women in the group, presumable his mother based on her age, speaks up.)

Mother: “What is he angry about?”

Me: “I can’t punch his coupons until the order is complete and paid, so he’s angry with me because he has to walk back and get his coupons.”

Mother: “Oh, for cripes sake! [Son], we can bring your d*** coupons back to the table!”

(The son walks away in a huff as the rest of his family completes their order with no problems. The old man approaches the cash register, and after I’ve repeated the order to him he hands me money.)

Old Man: “You all did a very good job. I’m sorry he behaved that way.”

Me: “That’s okay. I hope he has a better day.”

(The man ended up giving us a $10 tip, and the family, minus their rude son, still came back every Sunday)

Almost As Dreadful As That Pun

, , , | Friendly | December 6, 2017

(While out shopping for clothes, I overhear part of a conversation.)

Person #1: “Well, what else do you expect from a white guy with dreadlocks?”

Person #2: “I know, right? It’s DREADful.”

Person #1: “I should probably smack you for saying that, but you’re right.”

Walking Fall

, , , , | Right | December 3, 2017

(I am cashiering. This happens a lot.)

Me: “Thank you, and I’ll need to see your state issued identification, please.”

Customer: “What’s that?”

Me: “Your ID. Typically your driver’s license, permit, or identification offered by the state. If you’re from the reservation, they also offer identification cards that are acceptable.”

Customer: “I didn’t bring it.”

Me: “Then I can’t process your transaction. I can hold it until you do bring your ID and… you’re walking away. I guess I’ll put this away. Thanks.”

(Alternately, it ends with them swearing at me, then going to get their spouse to have them handle the transaction for them. I always draw comparison to a spoiled child getting their parent in those situations.)

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