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Let Them Drive Through Their Rant

, , , , | Right | October 14, 2021

I am working in the evening at a sandwich shop and answer the phone.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Sandwich Shop]. How can I help?”

Caller: “Yeah, we just came through the drive-thru and you guys messed up every single sandwich.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but—”

Caller:No! You don’t interrupt me, you let me finish!”

Me: “But, ma’am—”

Caller: “No, you listen here! We asked for only tomatoes and peppers on my husband’s sandwich, and you guys put on every topping under the sun!”

Me: “If I may—”

Caller:No! You let me finish!”

It is totally dead and I am working alone, so I just half-listen to her rant about all the things that are wrong with the sandwiches and how we were so incompetent.  

Caller: “Now, what do you have to say for yourselves?”

Me: “Well, ma’am, as I tried to tell you, this location does not have a drive-thru.”

Caller: “What do you mean? Isn’t this the store at the corner of First and Main?”

Me: “No, we’re at the corner of Fifth and Main.”

Caller: “Well, what’s their number?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t have it. They’re owned by a different franchisee.”

This is pre-smartphone days so I can’t look it up.

Caller: “Well, that’s just great!*Hangs up angrily*

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Underaged And Under Pressure

, , , , , , | Right | October 12, 2021

I work the door at a bar/club on weekends. Two university students come in. One seems fine but the other one is looking around nervously.

Me: “Can I see your IDs, please?”

The calm one starts reaching for his wallet.

Nervous Student: *At the top of his lungs* “I’M UNDERAGE!”

And he runs out. The remaining student rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and then wanders out after his friend.

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Well, Tickle Him Pink And Call Him Entitled!

, , , , | Right | September 28, 2021

A customer I vaguely recognize approaches my counter as I am about to leave for the day.

Customer: “I’m hoping you can help me. I got a cake from here a while ago and I have a problem.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Was there a problem with it?”

Customer: “Oh, no, the cake was lovely. I ordered two of them, actually, for my daughters. They had the little princesses on them.”

Here we go. I recognize him now. He wanted a discount because the name was off-center on one of them. His order is on my Wall Of Shame. 

Me: “So, what was the problem?”

Customer: “Well, I didn’t realize the icing would stain. Nobody warned me.”

The cake had a bright pink trim as he requested.

Me: “Warned you? What exactly did you do to the cake?”

Customer: “Well, the kids at the party got the icing all over the place and stained my rug and a chair. We’ve tried everything but the spots won’t come out. How do I get it out?”

He goes on to explain they have just moved into a brand new house and bought all brand new furniture that the kids basically ruined, and then he begins listing the prices of every piece of carpet and furniture the kids wrecked. The same guy that bullied a fifteen-year-old girl for a discount because the name was off-center is now looking to have his furniture and area rugs replaced.

Me: “Did you try soaking it with dish soap? White wine might help fade it.”

Customer: “We tried everything! What are you going to do about it?!”

Me: *Calmly* “Sir, it was not my children who ruined $12,000 worth of brand new furniture; it was yours. You should have been watching them. You ordered a cake with bright pink icing. I just made it the way you ordered it. Why would you let a bunch of kids run around your brand new house and furniture and area rugs with pink icing?”

Customer: *Pauses* “I would like to see your manager.”

Me: “He’s not here right now. Would you like me to give him your message?”

Customer: “You need to put a disclaimer on the box.”

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Come For The Sandwiches, Stay For The Protection Against Harassment!

, , , , , | Right | September 15, 2021

I’m one of five working the service line that is out the door with a line of university students heading home from the bars. I’m making a customer’s sandwich and in walks a drunk guy trying to fight with the customer I’m serving.

Customer: “I don’t know you. Please leave me alone.

The drunk guy won’t let up, so I leave the service line, walk around the counter, spin him around by his shoulders, and proceed to walk him out of the store.

Drunk Guy: “You can’t do that to me!

Me: “I just did.”

He exited the store. I walked back, washed my hands, and picked up where I left off. Not long after, I noticed my police officer regulars putting the drunk guy in their cruiser.

The customer gave me a $10 tip!

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Can’t See The Forest For The Tees

, , , , , | Right | September 14, 2021

I’m going to a grocery store with a shopping list from my wife. I get there and there is an open curbside space right by the front door. My lucky day!

I check out the list. My hands are full, what with phone, car keys, mask, etc., but I get out of the car and manage to get in the front door with only an upside-down mask to give me pause.

I am halfway down the veg aisle before I notice that I am not wearing my glasses. Quick check: old lottery tickets, dog treats, receipts, poop bags; it’s not in my coat or in my pants pockets, either. No biggy. Must have taken them off in the car when I was reading the shopping list.

Go through checkout. Get the members’ discount. Cashier tacks on a senior discount. I find that amusing.

Get back to the car. No glasses. Not on or under the seat. Not in the console. Not on the floor. Not on the sidewalk heading back to the store. Not on the floor of the produce section or on the shelves. Clerks haven’t found any. Cashiers haven’t seen them.

Go back to the car. Pray for intercession.

Go back inside and give my number to the nice young woman in customer service just in case they turn up.

She writes down my number and looks up.

Customer Service: “Do your lost glasses look anything like the pair you have hooked in your T-shirt collar?”

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