I work at a restaurant that is half restaurant, half ice cream store. A drive-thru customer has placed an order and requested fresh fries.

There are four other cars behind her when she gets to the second window. My employee opens the window, hands her the drinks, and asks her to pull to the left to wait on her fries. A few seconds later, after the customer pulls around, my employee says:

Employee: “She asked for a free drink for waiting. I told her no.”

After three minutes, her fries are ready, and a different employee takes the order out. The customer asks her:

Customer: “Where is my sweet tea?”

Employee: “Did you pay for a sweet tea?”

Customer: “No.”

The employee walks off. A minute later, the lady sends her eight-or-so-year-old son in. He is trying to eat his sandwich, and he asks the person at the front counter for his mom’s sweet tea. They tell him his mom didn’t pay for a sweet tea. He walks out.

I sit there and watch as she speeds across the parking lot, barely missing a parking lot light, and pulls back into the drive-thru. She doesn’t even wait for someone to answer; she just starts screaming.

Customer: “I don’t understand this. You asked me to pull around to wait for my food, and you can’t even give me a f****** free drink! I should be compensated for pulling around! I want to speak to your manager now!“

I take a deep breath and hit the button on my headset.

Me: “Ma’am, you specifically requested an item cooked to order. The amount of time you waited would have been the same whether we pulled you around or not. Your request for a free drink just because of being pulled around is denied. We pulled you because the people behind you were not waiting on fries but had ordered ice cream. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

She screamed and drove off.

This story happened a while ago, but my boyfriend and I still talk about it occasionally because it was, in retrospect, very funny. It’s about 1:00 am on a weekend. My boyfriend is asleep, but I’m a night owl and am still up.

I’m using the bathroom attached to our home office when I hear an unfamiliar voice outside my apartment. I don’t think much of it… until I hear our front door open and suddenly the voice is INSIDE our apartment! I hastily get myself decent, but before I can even button my fly, I hear:

Boyfriend: “WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING IN MY APARTMENT?”

Stranger: “Wha?! Uh… this is my apartment?”

Boyfriend: “NO. THIS IS MY APARTMENT!”

I peek out of the bathroom to see my 6’4″, 260-pound linebacker of a boyfriend, having apparently woken out of a dead sleep and raced into the living room in nothing but boxer-briefs faster than I could even pull up my pants, menacing a very startled-looking college-aged young man.

Boyfriend: “SO, AGAIN, WHAT THE F*** ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?!”

Stranger: “Uh, uh… I’m on acid, bro.”

There’s a beat of silence, but finally, my boyfriend lowers the fist that was poised to hit the apparent intruder.

Boyfriend: “What apartment building are you in?”

Stranger: *Pauses* “O?”

Boyfriend: “This is K. Get out.”

Stranger: “Uhhh…”

My boyfriend then has to physically turn the kid around, guide him out the door, and point him in the correct direction of his own apartment. We realize that when we got delivery earlier in the day, I neglected to lock the door, which is how he got in so easily. We both stay up a bit to shake off the adrenaline, but by the next morning, we have found the levity in the situation.

Me: “Honestly, it’s terrifying that you woke up out of a dead sleep that ready to just wreck someone’s s***. You didn’t even put on pants!”

Boyfriend: “It honestly didn’t occur to me. All I knew was that I couldn’t hear your voice, but I could hear a male voice I didn’t recognize, and that was wrong.”

Me: “Poor kid is probably terrified of this building now.”

Boyfriend: “Actually, he probably could barely comprehend where he was or who was talking to him. He’s probably like, ‘I met my spirit animal! He’s a gorilla and an a**hole!’”

This story is part of our Best Of February 2021 roundup!

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I am a carhop at a drive-in fast food place. A customer orders a medium soda with easy ice. I watch my coworker make the drink with easy ice as requested; however, this conversation ensues after I deliver his drink to him.

Customer: *Shaking the cup* “I wanted easy ice and this is not easy ice.”

I remember watching it being made with easy ice but try to remain polite.

Me: “Oh, are you sure? I thought I saw my coworker make it with easy ice.”

The customer takes the lid off the cup and looks inside.

Customer: “Uh, no. I can see the ice all the way at the top. This is not easy ice.”

Me: “Um… sir? Ice floats.”

He stared me down for a good ten seconds before I told him I’d remake it for him. I gave him three cubes of crushed ice in his new soda. I don’t know what he wanted me to do — defy physics to make the ice stay at the bottom? Anyway, he drove away happily with his three little cubes of ice.

Our drink sizes are small, medium, large, and Route 44.

Customer: “I’d like a large Route 44 [Soda].”

This happens occasionally, and usually, when customers say it, they just mean a Route 44 size. I always ask for clarification, though, just in case.

Me: “I’m sorry, did you want a large size or a Route 44 size?”

Customer: “What’s the difference?”

Me: “The large size is thirty-two ounces and the Route 44 is forty-four ounces.”

Customer: “Oh, which one’s bigger?”

Me: *Pauses* “The one with more ounces is bigger than the one with fewer ounces.”

Customer: “Oh, okay, I want the Route 44, then.”

An older lady comes up to my register with a lot of groceries. As I am scanning her items, a young male customer who comes in every morning to get an energy drink gets in line behind her. 

Female Customer: *To me* “You remind me of my grandchildren!”

I’m unsure of how to take this.

Me: “Oh, well, thank you.”

Female Customer: “You know what I like to do with my grandchildren?”

She leans in over the conveyor belt and says with a wink:

Female Customer: “Spank them.”

I am so taken aback, I don’t even know how to respond. I look at the guy behind her, and his eyes go wide open, too. 

I am stammering, trying to think of some way to make this conversation appropriate, but I can’t think of anything. The old lady then turns to the guy behind her:

Female Customer: “You’ll help me spank him, won’t you?”

Male Customer: *Completely red-faced* “Oh, um, I don’t know, yeah, I guess.”

I was so taken aback and embarrassed by the whole conversation that I didn’t even say anything for the rest of the transaction. After the lady left, the other customer — who was apparently okay with helping an old lady spank another young guy — refused to look at me for his whole transaction. I never saw either of them ever again.

Related:
Thanks, But No Spanks