A Dark Tale

, , , | Right | October 14, 2019

(We sell fried chicken quarters, so the breast and wing — white — are attached, as are the leg and thigh — dark. It usually goes as a special, with a side and a drink, and the white special is more expensive. We’ll say it’s $6.50 and the dark is $6.00. A lady comes up to order it without the drink, which is the same price as with it.)

Customer: “Well, that’s okay. I’ll take four pieces with fries for each.”

(I ring her up for four specials. I probably should have asked for clarification, but she said she would be storing it so it didn’t seem off.)

Me: “Okay! That’s $25.”

Customer:What?! Honey, that can’t be right. I wanted four pieces with fries!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The white special is $6.50, and the dark is $6.00. Two white and two dark–“

Customer:No, honey. I wanted four pieces: one breast, one wing, one leg, and one thigh!”

Me: “Oh, okay! I’m sorry.” *voids off one of each* “Okay, it’s $12.50”

Customer: “NO, HONEY, THAT’S NOT RIGHT.”

Me: *getting agitated* “One white special is a breast and a wing and fries. It’s $6.50. A dark is a thigh and a leg and fries. That’s $6.00. So–“

Customer: “Just give me one, then, honey!”

Me: “White or dark?”

Customer: “White.”

Me: *voiding the other dark special* “Okay, $6.50.”

Customer: “That’s better, honey.”

1 Thumbs
292

I Confess To Being As Mature As A Seven-Year-Old Boy

, , , , , , | Learning | October 13, 2019

(In second grade, my class prepares for first Reconciliation by practicing with our teacher and a nun who works at the church. The teacher or nun sits in the priest’s chair and we go in and have a pretend confession. The rest of the class watches so that we can learn from each other. Naturally, some students decide to have some fun with it.)

Nun: “What sins have you committed?”

Student: *grinning* “I farted in my dad’s face on purpose!”

Nun: “Well, that wasn’t very nice, was it?”

1 Thumbs
211

Unfiltered Story #169563

, , | Unfiltered | October 11, 2019

This story relates why I will NEVER work in the fast food industry again.

I was working the register for lunch rush, and we were slammed. The dining room was full, and I’d previously noticed that one large, loud, family with kids were making a MESS of one corner booth table (on the table, bench, and on the carpeted floor).
While dealing with long line of customers, one woman from the group came up to the front of the line, butted in, and said, “We’ve left quite a mess back there.”
Not one hint of apology at all.
I nodded and said, “I know, I saw it.” Then got on with filling order of the customer she’d butted in front of.
Next thing I know, she’s back. “What did you call me?” she shouted.
“What?”
“My sister said she saw you call me a f****** b***!”
“No, I didn’t.”
Sister approached, “Oh, so now you’re calling me a liar?!”
At this point, I’m flustered, not sure what to do. Manager comes out, asks what’s wrong, she shouts at him what I supposedly said.
I get sent back to the office where I sat, in tears.
My manager, who’s a pretty level-headed guy, comes back and asks (I guess he had to), “Did you call her that?”
“No!”
I had a customer right there two feet in front of me, for crying out loud!

After some time, he comes back to get me. “They’re gone. They were threatening to call the police and waiting outside for you, but I made them leave.”
I thank him and return to work, my face all blotchy from crying and upset. I’d only been working in fast food for a few years, but I’ve never had a customer that psychotic before screaming at me.
When I got back to the front, the customer that I’d been serving when the women verbally attacked me came up to me. “What was that all about?”
“That woman said I called her a bad name.”
He shrugged and said, “I didn’t hear you say anything.”

Not-So-Smart-Phone, Part 39

, , , , | Right | October 9, 2019

(At the phone store where I work, an elderly husband and wife come in with a flip phone. We very rarely sell flip phones these days, let alone see used ones, but interactions with flip phone users tend to boil down to an unwillingness to attempt learning anything new, or a lack of use for smartphone technology. This interaction is firmly in the former category.)

Husband: “There’s a little symbol on the screen! I can’t get it to go away! Can you help us make it go away?”

Me: *looking at the phone* “Sir, this symbol shows that you have a voicemail. Would you like me to teach you how to use your voicemail?”

Husband: “I just want to make the symbol go away!”

(I press the button for voicemail and it plays. The message is from the couple’s son.)

Voicemail: “Hi, Dad, it’s [Son], just wanted to see how the new cell phone is working out! Give me a call back when you get the chance. Love you, bye.”

Me: “The message is from your son.”

Wife: “He should have called the house!”

Husband: “The little symbol is gone!”

Me: “I can show you how to get rid of it yourself next time if you’d like.”

Husband: “No, thanks! If it comes back I’ll just come in again!”

Me: “Okay, sir, have a good day.”

Wife: “So, I guess we’ll see you next week!”

Related:
Not-So-Smart-Phone, Part 38
Not-So-Smart-Phone, Part 37
Not-So-Smart-Phone, Part 36

1 Thumbs
393

Unfiltered Story #169545

, , | Unfiltered | October 9, 2019

I took two weeks off to get married and returned to work 10/21. Within the first few days a young African woman came in. Since I don’t know her name, I shall refer to her as A.

When A saw me at register, she rolled her eyes and asked if I was going to card her. I responded by stating company policy that all customers are carded until 27 and asked her age. She called me a bitch and told me she was 25. A then left the store without purchasing anything.

On 10/23, A returned to the store and saw me mopping. She proceeded to kick over the wet floor cones and called me a bitch again. As I was checking her and her partner out, she berated me and insulted me. According to her, I was so polite it was rude and offensive and I should remember her as being legally able to smoke.

I attempted to explain that I didn’t remember seeing her ID and that if she wanted a manager I could get one. A left before the manager could come up.

On 10/25, she came into the store around 11:40pm. She and her partner bought a single soda and left the store without much incident. Only a few minutes later, her partner returned and told me there was no gas on pump 9. I printed out the receipt and told him that no gas was purchased.

He left and returned with A. She proceeded to tell me that she paid for the gas and refused to listen when I showed her the receipt. She called me all sorts of names and told me I had to put the gas on the pump. After a few minutes of this, I radioed for help and informed her that I was under no obligation to help her further as she was verbally assaulting me.

A then called me a cunt and told me that I would be better off dead. It was at this point that I left register and T, the MOD, arrived. I had to return to check customers out as Tim was now arguing with A and attempting to explain there was no record of her pumping gas.

I offered to give T a few dollars to pay for their gas as I know what it’s like to be broke. A must have over heard me whisper to him as she proceeded to tell me that she was going to shove my money up my ass and beat me to a pulp. I was again called a bitch, a cunt and other names as I walked away.

I left the sales floor while A yelled at T and finally bullied him into putting the 20$ onto pump 9. There was no record of her paying for gas ever found.

On 10/26, the general manager accused me of enjoying drama and intentionally making his life more difficult. I was already upset, despite it being hours after the incident, and his anger towards me resulted in my crying.