Even The Pizza Left You

, , , , , , | Right | April 17, 2019

(My husband and I order pizza, then go to pick it up. They don’t have a dine-in area, but there are four chairs lined up along the window. An elderly man is using one of the chairs, so I make my husband take one of the other chairs, and my children refuse to share the chairs. After about twenty minutes of waiting while the children are entertained with their own electronics, and my husband is zoned out on his phone, this happens:)

Elderly Man: *to my husband* “You’re so rude!”

Husband: “What?”

Me: “What? How so?”

Elderly Man: “Making her stand like that! That’s totally rude of you!”

Me: “I told him he should sit down, since my legs need to stretch, and the pressure changes have been aggravating his arthritis. I’ve been glued to a computer in a small office all day.”

Elderly Man: “Well, okay, then, that’s… Sorry. I just assumed there.”

Me: “That’s okay, yeah. I hope we don’t meet anyone who is actually rude tonight! It’s been about fifteen minutes since we got here, but I understand the wait, since we ordered several specific pizzas, and it’s a busy football night.”

Cashier: *listening in, says quietly* “Oh, thank God.”

(I was exaggerating downward; it has been at least twenty minutes. The cashier goes to confer with her manager, and the manager comes over to apologize for the wait. The kids and my husband don’t mind — they’ve got their games — but I’m thirsty, so I accept her offer of free drinks for the family. She offers the elderly gentleman a discount on his pizza, and a drink for his lengthier wait. And then, about five minutes later, another customer comes in.)

Rude Dude: *walks to counter* “I’ve been waiting 45 minutes now! I need my pizza immediately!”

Cashier: “Yes, sir, what is the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “Forty-five minutes! I’ve been waiting!”

Cashier: “And the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “I’VE BEEN WAIIIITIIIING 45 MINUTES!”

(This repeats at least another half dozen times, with him saying the same thing in different combinations, and the cashier offering the same question in a super sweet saccharine voice. I’m getting hangry at this point, and he’s the nearest annoyance, soooo…)

Me: “Forty-five minutes, huh? Everybody here has clearly gotten that information. But, the one thing she needs is your f****** name. So, either tell the nice lady your name, or go f*** off, and wait at least another hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *gives his name and glares at the cashier*

Cashier: “Oh! Your order went out through the drive-thru five minutes ago! Have a nice night!” *turns back to the kitchen to retrieve the elderly man’s order*

Rude Dude: *screams incoherently, throws a plastic organizer full of salt, peppers, and parmesan packets into the kitchen area, and slams himself into a chair to sulk*

Elderly Man: *on his way to picking up his order, stops to address the rude dude* “Your order isn’t here, so you probably shouldn’t be, either. Now, go see if your pizza’s at home, and if it is not, do as the lady has requested. Go f*** off and wait at least an hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *literally growls, then leaves*

Cashier: “Sir, that is awesome. Your order is on us tonight, and we’re so sorry for such a long wait.”

(She calls my husband’s name about five or so minutes later, and we find that they have given us an extra deep-dish pizza, a dessert, and a couple of other items that we used to order on a weekly basis, but no longer do due to household size and budget changes.)

Cashier: “Your tot—“

Manager: “Nope! No. Noooo. F*** that. This is all on us. Y’all are longtime customers, and this is the longest you guys have ever waited, and we really appreciate your patience. And you telling that guy to f*** off.”

Cashier: “Yeah! Sweet! And yeah, thanks for telling the guy to f*** off.”

Husband: *is confused*

Me: “You’re welcome. I can’t stand people that obtuse.” *laughs* “The fact that the elderly man repeated it, though… That made my week.”

Husband: “So… wait… what? We’re good here?”

Me: “Yes, I’m coming back later this week with the kids, too.”

Cashier: “[Husband], you were playing on your phone. [My Name] will explain it when y’all get home, okay?”

(When we got home, my in-laws came over unexpectedly, but thanks to the generosity of the pizzeria staff, we had enough pizza for everyone. I told everyone how we got all the pizza for free, the kids reiterated how super rude the dude was, and my husband joked that I could hire myself out as an expert snarker while I continued job hunting.)

Ptizza

, , , , , , | Right | April 9, 2019

(This happened several years ago at the call center for a local pizza chain. We stop taking orders at 11:00 pm but most activity dies down at 10:00, so most of the employees have gone home. I’m alone, aside from the manager, and bored at 10:55 pm when I get a call.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pizza Chain]. My name is [My Name]. What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “Hi, [My Name]. So, we have a bet going.”

Me: “Um, okay.”

Customer: “Can you spell ‘pterodactyl’?”

Me: “Yes? P-T-E-R-O—“

Customer: “Thanks.” *yelling* “She got it! I knew [Pizza Chain] could spell.” *to me* “Thanks again.”

Me: *laughing* “You’re welcome. Have a great night.”

Waiting For Pizza: The Ultimate Torture

, , , , | Right | April 8, 2019

(I stop in at a local, extremely popular pizza place for a couple of slices. The place is pretty empty at the moment, but there are stacks of pizzas being prepped for delivery or awaiting pickup because the first US football game of the season is underway. While I’m waiting, a woman comes barging in and storms up to the counter.)

Woman: “WHERE ARE MY PIZZAS?!”

Cashier: “How long ago did you order them?”

Woman: “It’s been over an hour! I’m sick of waiting!”

Cashier: “Oh, wow, I’m so sorry. What phone number did you call it in under? What did you order?”

(The woman nearly screams everything at her, but by the time she’s done the girl isn’t even typing anything. She turns around, grabs a ticket from the rack, and turns back.)

Cashier: “Thirty-five minutes.”

Woman: “What?”

Cashier: “All our order tickets are time-stamped, and this one was printed thirty-five minutes ago, not an hour. Also, I told you it would be ‘between a half-hour and forty-five minutes’ because of how busy we are. Also, the delivery driver just left with them; you probably passed him coming in.”

(The woman instantly begins freaking out, screaming, and — for “revenge,” I suppose — knocks over their little holder of take-out menus before storming back out. I bend down and help them pick up the menus while my slices are getting taken out of the oven.)

Cashier: “Thanks for the help.”

Me: “No problem. I don’t always get dinner and a show! But did she really think she was going to get a pizza with this much of a rush in under a half-hour?”

Cashier: “Some folks still think it’s the mid-80s and that ‘thirty minutes or it’s free’ still applies, even to places that never advertised it.”

Unfiltered Story #145518

, , | Unfiltered | March 30, 2019

I am a customer in this situation. I’ve been waiting for about an hour and a half on a pizza delivery. It’s a Saturday on a busy weekend for them, and I know how hard these nights can be, so when the delivery guy finally rolls up and gets out, this conversation takes place:

Me: “Hey, rough night?”
Him: “Horrible night. Sorry this took so long.”
Me: “It’s alright, it won’t affect your tip any. I know how tough this can be.”

He starts to pull out the food as I jot down an 8 dollar tip. I hand back the receipt. He looks at it and softens, having looked pretty stressed out.

Me: “I try to tip well, I know how bad the tippers are around here. One of your other drivers told me that after I asked him how a 5 dollar tip was a ‘good tip’. Most people around here don’t seem to understand that the delivery charge isn’t actually a tip, or that these cars are actually yours and they don’t compensate you on gas money.”
Him: “Well, thank you for that.” *He pauses for a moment to hand me the food.* “Last night I did 14 deliveries, and I got 8 dollars in tips for the entire night.”
Me: *I stand there dumbfounded for a good second, mouth agape.* “What the- I knew the tips were bad, but that is just ridiculous! They need to start putting ‘delivery charge is not tip, please tip your drivers’ on the receipts or something!”
Him: *He nods, smiling.* “That’s a good idea.”
Me: “The other driver said he was going to do that. If enough of you do complain or press the issue, maybe something will change?”
Him: “I hope so. And I will. Well, thank you. Take care!”
Me: “You too.”

The last driver told me that he was lucky to get 2 dollars from someone who tips here where I live, on a good day, but that most people didn’t tip at all. He had moved here from up north, where tips averaged on 5 dollars and no tips were a lot rarer. My wife had always gotten a bit nervous when I tipped 5 dollars, as we both thought it was too tacky or low. How wrong we were! We can only hope the business actually changes their receipts and encourages us customers to help out.

Have You Ever Sausage A Bad Vegan Before?

, , , , , | Right | March 21, 2019

(I’m a manager at a new pizza franchise in town. On a busy afternoon, we’re sending out every delivery driver we have and trying to call more of them in to handle the workload. During the rush, an employee tells me that a customer on the phone has demanded to speak to a manager.)

Me: “Hello, sorry for the wait. What seems to be the trouble?”

Customer: “MY PIZZA HAD SAUSAGE ON IT!”

Me: “Oh? Can I get your name so I can pull up the order?”

Customer: “It’s [Customer]. We didn’t order sausage; we’re vegan!”

Me: *pulling up the info* “Oh, no! That’s terrible. Let me just see what you ordered, and if you like, I can have a new pizza out to you shortly. Our policy states that you’d just need to hand over the erroneous pizza when the delivery driver gets there.”

Customer: “Well, we ate the whole thing! How am I supposed to return it now?!”

Me: “You ate the…”

(I’m wondering why they’d have eaten an entire large pizza if it was topped with meat that they couldn’t have, when I see the woman’s order in our system. She had specifically asked for sausage as a topping.)

Me: “Well, ma’am, our system indicates that you ordered sausage as one of your toppings. Is it possible the cashier misheard your order?”

Customer: “No… I ordered sausage.”

Me: “I see. Well, ma’am, if you ordered sausage, and ate the whole pizza, I’m afraid I can’t refund your money or give you a free pizza. I can make a note that you’re to get 10% off your next order, if you like, but unfortunately that’s the most I can do.”

Customer: “What?! But it was meat! We can’t have meat!”

Me: “I understand that, but you ordered the sausage AND ate the whole pizza.”

Customer: “Because we were hungry!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there isn’t anything more I can do for you. You’re welcome to speak to the business owner, though. He’ll be here [Date and Time] if you’d like to file a complaint.”

Customer: “FINE!” *disconnects*

(The boss ended up giving the customer a $5 off coupon instead of the 10% off option I offered, but that’s it. I’m still not sure what the customer expected when she ordered a mushroom and sausage pizza…)

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