(I manage a locally-owned pizza shop where we have a “continual sale” on our cheese pizzas. I am chatting with a new hire about normal customer service issues we encounter.)

New Hire: “So, do we actually get people who are angry because pepperoni is not automatically included on their pizza?”

Me: “Oh, my God. You have no idea.”

(I start to give her several examples, but get summoned to the front register by the door chime.)

Me: “Good evening, sir. Are you placing an order for here or to go?”

Customer: “Yeah, give me one of those medium cheese pizzas for $6. Oh, and throw some pepperoni on there, too.”

Me: “Certainly, sir. Your total for carryout is $7.69.”

Customer: “WHAT? $7.69?! THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE $6 PIZZA DEAL?!”

Me: “My apologies, sir. The $6 deal is for the cheese pizza; adding pepperoni also adds the price for one topping, bringing your total to $7.69.”

Customer: “Well, that’s some d*** expensive pepperoni, then! Fine, here’s your money, but it’s highway robbery, I tell you!”

(I give him his change, then carry the ticket back to the pizza kitchen.)

Me: “Hey, [New Hire], f*** you; you summoned them! So, please make this gentleman’s medium cheese pizza, add pepperoni, for me.”

New Hire: “My sincerest apologies, friend; I did not mean to summon the demon hordes. I shall pay for my error by making the best cheese pizza, add pepperoni, that you have ever seen!”

(I think she’ll fit in quite well with us.)

(A customer has placed an order online for several pizzas, one of which is a supreme, from which she has removed all but two of the toppings. Her husband comes in to pick up the order and we receive a phone call shortly after from the wife.)

Customer: “My husband just picked up our order and one of our pizzas is wrong.”

Me: “Sure, I’ll just look up your order in the computer.” *I do* “Yes, I can see your order. Which pizza was the one that has been made wrong?”

Customer: “I ordered a pepperoni pizza with pineapple, and all I got was eight small pieces of pepperoni with a few pieces of pineapple. It’s not enough toppings, and it’s not what I ordered.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’ve ordered the supreme pizza, and removed almost all of the toppings. The pizza looks that way as we have to weigh our toppings before putting them on the pizza, and different pizzas have different weights of toppings. The supreme only has eight slices of pepperoni and about thirty grams of pineapple as the other toppings will fill it out.”

Customer: “A supreme pizza definitely doesn’t only have eight pieces of pepperoni. Get me your manager.”

Me: “Ma’am, I am the store manager and I have been working here for over a year. I assure you the supreme pizza is only supposed to have eight pieces of pepperoni and thirty grams of pineapple.”

Customer: “Like h*** it does! Don’t f****** lie to me! Put your manager on the phone.”

Me: “As I said, I am the store manager; there is no one here higher than I am. We made your pizza how you ordered it and you received what you paid for. If you’d like to add extra toppings it will be $2 per topping for an extra 30 grams. If you were to add extra pepperoni and extra pineapple the total price for this would then be $16.95, an additional $4, or you can change your order to a pepperoni pizza and add pineapple which would cost you $13.95, only an extra $1.”

Customer: “I’m not paying any extra, you b****! You think I’m a f****** idiot! I know how much topping should be on this pizza; I order this pizza every time.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we made the pizza how you ordered. I’m sorry it was not up to your expectations, but we gave you what you paid for. If we added extra toppings without processing them through the computers and having them paid for, there would be discrepancies in our nightly stock take. As I said, if you would like to change your order and pay the difference, I’d be happy to remake the pizza and have it delivered to you free of charge.”

Customer: “I’m not f****** paying you anything! I want a full refund, and the whole order remade and delivered for wasting my f****** time.”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m afraid I can’t do that, as there were no problems with the rest of your order. If you don’t want us to remake the pizza and deliver it to you, then I will place one free traditional pizza under your account for next time. Thank you and have a good night.”

(I left after that as it became increasingly difficult to maintain composure. I didn’t hear from the customer again.)

(I call up my local pizza restaurant with an odd request.)

Me: “Hi, umm, for whatever reason I’ve developed an allergy to tomatoes. I’m just wondering if there is anything I can order, pizza-wise, which won’t include any?”

Employee: *perfectly helpful* “Sure. Just order whatever you like and I’ll make sure it doesn’t have tomatoes on it.”

Me: “Oh, thank you.” *gives order*

(I wait an hour and a half for my pizza. When it arrives, I don’t think to check it until after I pay. The box is stone cold and lighter than I expect. When I open it, there is what looks to be one whole tomato, finely sliced and arranged in a circle. “Enjoy” is written in marker in the middle. I phone up, furious, to complain. I get the same woman.)

Me: “Yes, I’d like to complain about my order.”

Employee: *now harsh and sarcastic* “Oh, tomato guy. Just go jump off a bridge. Like I’m going to go out of my way to help someone like you!”

Me: “Well, I want to speak to the own—”

Employee: *hangs up*

(I emailed the owner and he assured me it would be handled. I know the woman was fired, but I was never compensated for the terrible service. I don’t use them anymore.)

(My husband and I are ordering pizza. It’s taking a while to get here, which doesn’t usually happen. I get a call from the pizza place.)

Delivery Guy: “I can’t find your house. There’s not a house here!”

Me: “What?”

Delivery Guy: “You’re at [number] 14th Street, right?”

Me: “No, our address is [number one digit off] 4th Street.”

Delivery Guy: “Oh, okay! Be right there!”

(Later, I tell my husband the address the guy went to, and he looks it up.)

Husband: “It’s a park. [Number] 14th St is a park!”

Me: “No wonder he was confused!”

(A customer and her family come in. I assume it’s her son’s birthday since they’ve all brought gifts. During their visit, I have no problem catering to their needs, but right before they leave they have a silly-string battle. They get the stuff all over the floor and on three separate booths. I later find out that the gunk is like cement after it dries, and is therefore almost impossible to get off. We have a prize counter where you can exchange tickets for toys.)

Coworker: “Do we even give out silly-string as a prize?”

Me: “That would be so evil! These people decided to bring this stuff from home.”

Coworker: “Why would someone even bring that kind of thing into a restaurant?”

Me: “Have you seen the people that come in here? Common sense and respect aren’t dominant traits.”

Coworker: “Oh, yeah. Good point. People suck. Have fun cleaning up that mess.”

Me: *sigh*