Cheese Displease

, , , , | Right | November 13, 2019

(The order is three crunchy tacos, extra cheese. Admittedly, we are told to put the smallest amount of cheese possible on the taco at any time, and extra cheese basically just means double of almost nothing, but I’m a nice guy, so I put a good amount on there — more than my managers would like. I wrap up the tacos and put them in the bag, go up to the counter, and hand it out. The woman is standing right there at the front, staring at me.)

Customer: “Can I get some extra cheese?”

Me: “I put it on the tacos for you already.”

Customer: “No, you didn’t. I was watching you. There’s barely any cheese on them. I paid for extra.”

Me: *smile froze on my face* “I put the extra cheese on the tacos already. I’m sorry if you couldn’t see that from there.”

Customer: *sighs and says, like she’s doing me a favor* “Fine, can I just have some extra cheese on the side?”

Me: “Sure.” *smiled wider* “If you’ll just go over the registers, one side of extra cheese is thirty cents.”

(She swore at me and left.)

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We Need To Talk About Kevin

, , , , | Legal | November 12, 2019

(My mother is in her sixties and thus part of the demographic that credit card phone scammers tend to target. However, despite being mildly technophobic, she’s nobody’s fool and has devised a strategy to get the scammers to take her off their list. I was privileged to witness this recently.)

Mom: *checking her phone screen as it rings* “Oh, look, a call from Kevin. I bet he wants to help me with my Visa Mastercard account.” *answers the phone and listens for a moment* “Sure enough.” 

(She presses one to speak to a representative and puts the phone on speaker.)

Me: “Mom, what are you doing? That’s how they confirm your number is live! You’ll never get rid of them now!” 

Mom: “Watch and learn, sweetie.”

(The call is answered by a guy with an almost cartoonishly thick accent.)

Scammer: “Yes, hello, this is Harry, and we are calling to help you with your Visa Mastercard account–“

Mom: *at full “cranky old lady” volume* “WHERE’S KEVIN?” 

Scammer: “Uh… pardon me, ma’am? My name is Harry, and I’m calling to help you with–“

Mom: *still at full volume* “NO, that’s not right! My phone said this was a call from Kevin! I want to talk to Kevin! You put Kevin on the phone right now or else–“

Scammer: *click*

Mom: “And that’s how we deal with that.” 

Me: “I love you.” 

Mom: “I know.”

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Doing A Disservice To Service Animals

, , , , | Right | November 12, 2019

Caller: “You’re a pet-friendly hotel, correct?”

Me: “No, sorry. We only allow service animals.”

Caller: “Oh.” *pause* “Do you require paperwork for service animals?”

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When Produce Is Not Productive

, , , , , | Right | November 10, 2019

(It’s a busy Sunday morning at the grocery store, with all of the checkout lines but one at least three-deep with full carts. I think I just got lucky because the last line has a customer just about checked out, and then only a lady with a small cart of produce waiting to pay. The first customer leaves as I start unloading, leaving plenty of space on the belt for the items remaining in the lady’s cart, although she’s playing with her cell phone rather than unloading the cart. When the manager moves to the bagging section immediately, I should have known something was up.)

Customer: *mumbling* “$2 dollars, must be $2. I only have $60 this week.”

Cashier: “Your bag of Brussels sprouts is $2.35.”

(The customer grabs the bag, reaches into it, and throws a handful of sprouts in the direction of the manager. She then returns the bag to the cashier and goes back to playing on her phone.)

Customer: “Must be $2.”

Cashier: “Okay, the Brussels sprouts are $1.94 now, but your limes are $2.16.”

Customer: *throws a lime at the manager, and goes back to the phone* “Must be $2.”

(This went on for thirty bags of produce, having the cashier weigh each bag and then tossing anything in excess down the belt, all while barely looking up from the phone. I sympathize with people being on limited budgets, but this was a major grocery store, with at least a dozen scales in the produce area that could have told her the price and printed a label. Once she had paid and the manager took away the shopping basket full of rejected produce, the woman grabbed each produce bag — including light ones with lettuce or herbs — and proceeded to double grocery bag each individually. When she left, the cashier gave me a sympathetic smile, as I’d been waiting in the “short” line for at least a half-hour, but I’d already unloaded my whole cart before realizing that “The Price Is Right” was about to go down ahead of me. Apparently, the woman does this every time she comes to the store, and today was actually a good day because if she buys a melon or other large produce item which can’t be reduced in size, she refuses to put it on the belt until they’ve gone through all the bags. Inevitably, she doesn’t have enough money once the melon is added in, and ends up tossing stuff out of the already run-through bags and insisting they be voided out and re-weighed.)

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The New Bakery In The Mos Eisley Cantina

, , , | Right | November 10, 2019

(I’m the bakery manager for a regional supermarket chain. I am on the sales floor, filling our muffin display. I suddenly feel someone tapping my shoulder. I turn to see a male customer with a very angry look on his face.)

Me: “Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “I just wanted to let you know that I don’t like you!”

(I have never seen this guy before, so I’m not sure if he is confusing me with someone else.)

Me: “Umm…”

Customer: “In fact, I hate you!”

Me: *still confused* “I…”

Customer: “I was just diagnosed as being diabetic! I can’t have anything here. I can’t even have apple pie! That’s my favorite!”

Me: *still not sure how to respond* “I’m sorry?”

(He then went on a tirade about how we should not have anything out for sale while he is in the store, as it is very hard for him to go past our department. He then asked to speak to the store manager, who I paged. The store manager came over, and the guy first demanded that he get rid of the bakery since he can’t have anything from there. The store manager told him that it was not possible to remove an entire department from the store, especially for one person. The customer then said that from now on he would call five minutes before he came into the store so we could pull all our bakery tables off the sales floor, so he wouldn’t be tempted. He then walked away. The store manager and I traded looks of disbelief. My cake decorator, who witnessed the whole exchange, laughed and said, “Just another typical Sunday here!”)

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