(We only have three staff on at this point in the evening. I’m the only cashier, and, as such, I’m working the front and drive-thru. I have just taken a couple orders in drive-thru and am now taking orders for the front counter. Halfway through taking a front order, my headset goes off. Note, the other two staff members are unable to help, as they are also busy.)

Me: “Welcome to [Restaurant], I’ll be with you in just one moment.”

Customer: *clearly not listening* “Can I please have a—”

Me: “I’m sorry; I’ll just be with you in one moment.”

(I turn the volume down so I can pay attention to the customer I’m already dealing with. I finish with them and go back to the drive-thru.)

Me: “Thank you for waiting. How may I help you?”

Customer: “…with a large fry. Did you get all that?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I was with another guest, but I’m free to take your order now.”

Customer: “Then why did you say you were going to take my order if you weren’t going to listen?”

Me: “With all due respect, I politely informed you that I’d be with you shortly, twice. But now that I’m free, I’ll be more than happy to take your order.”

Customer: “Well, I shouldn’t have to repeat myself. You should have been paying attention like you said you were.”

(She ended up repeating her order, but she wasn’t happy about it.)

(We have a regular who comes through drive-thru almost every Sunday and orders the “Sunday special” – something she made up on her own. I’m still a new employee at this point, and the cashier and supervisor working with me are transfers from another location. This is the first Sunday shift for all three of us.)

Cashier: “Welcome to [Restaurant]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Sunday special.”

Cashier: *blank look* “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what that is. Can you please tell me?”

Customer: “Give me the manager.”

Supervisor: “I’m the supervisor for this shift. What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “She doesn’t know what I want. You ring it in.”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking for, either. But if you tell us, we can get it for you.”

Customer: “I’ve been coming here for years.”

Supervisor: “That may be, but we do have new staff on today, including myself. Unfortunately, we don’t know what your order is.”

Customer: “Oh, the young lad knows. He takes my order.”

(The supervisor and cashier both turn to look at me.)

Me: “Hey, this is my first Sunday, too. I have no idea who she is.”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, nobody that’s working right now knows your order. But we can make it, if you tell us what it is.”

Customer: “It’s written down in your store; they told me it’s written down.”

Supervisor: “I’m sorry, but we don’t keep track of orders that way. We will make your order, if you can let us know what it is.”

(She finally gave it to us: a plain hamburger, with lettuce and tomato on the side. She did this every time someone didn’t understand her.)

(While I’m filling my car I observe a man trying to work the pump across from me, and speaking out loud in a very noticeable accent.)

Customer: “Why won’t this work? Declined again!” *pushes intercom button for gas station attendant service* “It keeps saying my credit card is declined; I don’t know why it isn’t working!”

Attendant: “Please come inside the store, sir, and you can prepay your fuel in here.”

Customer: “I just don’t understand why it isn’t working!”

Attendant: “You will have to come into the store to pay if the machine isn’t working.”

(This repeats for about six minutes. As I walk towards him to go into the store, I ask him:)

Me: “How long have you been in Canada, now?”

Customer: “Only three days. This pump isn’t working right, and the employee isn’t coming to help me!”

(As I pass by I tap the, admittedly, poorly-phrased sign on the pump: “Foreigners, please pre-pay for fuel inside store.” He takes a second to read it, then hollers after me:)

Customer: “But I’m white!“

(As I left he was still out there trying to argue with both the pump and the attendant, via intercom, that the card reader wasn’t working, and he still hadn’t made any attempt to enter the store. I tried one more time on my way by to explain to him that the pump didn’t care about his ethnicity; it just couldn’t read cards that weren’t issued in Canada. He was just going to have to go inside if he wanted gas! He was still standing outside when I drove off.)

(I work in a popular grocery store in Canada that also sells hot foods, and I’m working the pizza counter.)

Me: “Hello, were you wanting to grab a slice?”

Customer: “Yes, that vegetarian slice.”

(I grab the vegetarian slice and go to put it in the oven to heat it up.)

Customer: “NO! NO! I wanted that vegetarian slice!”

(He points to the slice of pepperoni.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; I thought you wanted a veggie slice. I’ll just switch.”

(He starts to interrupt me.)

Customer: “That is a vegetarian slice.”

(I am almost unsure how to reply, thinking he is joking.)

Me: “Haha, no, it’s pepperoni, sir. That is a type of meat!”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes. 100% sure.”

Customer: “Give me the f****** other slice, then. I’ve always had that other type of pizza, and I have been a vegetarian for five years!”

(A customer standing behind him starts to laugh and says:)

Customer #2: “Obviously, you weren’t a vegetarian, dumba**.”

(I had a good laugh with my coworkers afterwards. Funny thing is, this happens more frequently than you would think! Learn the difference between meat and vegetables if you’re a vegetarian!)

Not (My aunt works as a 911 dispatcher and owns a dog named Charlie.)

Mom: “Hey, [Aunt], what’s your Wi-Fi password?”

Aunt: “Hold on; I have it written down here somewhere… Okay, it’s 123, ‘Charlie,’ 456, ‘Whiskey.'”

Mom: “No, it says that’s incorrect. You said, ‘[repeats back password]’?”

Aunt: “Yeah, it should work… Wait, are you typing ‘Charlie’ and ‘Whiskey’ in as words?!”

Mom: “Well, yes!”

Aunt: “Oh, I was using the phonetic alphabet! It’s 123C456W!”

Mom: “‘Charlie,’ I didn’t question, but I didn’t think whiskey was so important to you!”