Identity Clause

| Plano, TX, USA | Right | December 23, 2016

(My wife and I are eating at a pizza buffet restaurant with our two sons when we notice a large older man with a full white beard seated at a nearby table, wearing a red shirt. This man is happily “admitting” to the kids who approach him that he is actually Santa. My boys are just past the age of believing in Santa, so we all enjoy seeing the wide-eyed wonder of the younger kids in the restaurant. About midway through our meal, “Santa” finishes his dinner and leaves. Barely two minutes after his departure, ANOTHER man with a white beard and red shirt enters the restaurant. It is uncanny; he clearly looks like Santa Claus himself, but is very obviously a different man. There is quite the commotion from the younger kids in the restaurant. Sensing the potential for disaster, I get up and approach the second man:)

Me: *quietly* “Hi. I thought you should know that the reaction you’re hearing is not just because you look like Santa Claus, but because another man who looks like Santa just left here.”

Second “Santa”: *to the room, without skipping a beat* “Sorry about the confusion, boys and girls. I’m the real Santa; that other guy was probably my brother Jim. He likes to pretend he’s me. I should stop him, but he’s a pretty nice guy himself. Merry Christmas!”

(That seemed to satisfy everyone. It makes me laugh to this day that there are kids who grew up thinking they’d seen both the real Santa and his brother “Jim.”)

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Love Is Pizza

| USA | Related | December 2, 2016

(After enduring a painstakingly slow day working and both being incredibly tired, my mother and I decide to stop by one of our favorite pizza places rather than have to go home and cook. I have a habit of saying the first thing that pops into my head without thinking and, as we’re leaving, this ensues:)

Me: *as I’m stepping through the door, to the cashier* “Thanks for the pizza, dude. I love you!”

Mum: “She’s being sarcastic! She doesn’t really mean—”

Me: “I am not!”

Mum: *lowers voice* “You can’t just tell people you love them.”

Me: “Yes, I can. He gave me pizza!”

Mum: “He didn’t give you pizza. I bought pizza!”

(Just for the record, I had never seen the cashier before in my life.)

Not Mushroom For Anything Else

| USA | Right | November 24, 2016

(I’m taking a gentleman’s order over the phone for delivery.)

Me: “What can I get you?”

Customer: “I’d like a large pizza, half sausage and mushroom and the other half mushroom. That’s all.”

Me: “Okay, so you’d like a large pizza, all of it with mushrooms and half with sausage as well?”

Customer: “NO! I want a large pizza with HALF sausage and mushroom and HALF mushroom.”

Me: “So basically the exact same thing I just said? Great your total will be $[price] with tax and delivery we’ll see you soon.”  *hang up*

Pizza Of Future’s Past

| Washington, DC, USA | Working | November 23, 2016

(I order a pizza on the night daylight saving time ends, at 1:45 am DST. They tell me it will be there in about half an hour, and sure enough, half an hour later, it arrives. It is now 1:15 am, standard time, because we set the clocks back. I have no complaints, but a couple days later, I get a call from a manager.)

Manager: “Hello, I’m calling about your order a couple days ago from [Pizza Place].”

Me: “Yes, was there a problem?”

Manager: “You tell me. It’s showing here that your order took 993 minutes to be delivered, but that’s what, 16 hours? I just wanted to follow up and see what happened.”

Me: “No, it took about half an hour, pretty much what they promised.”

Manager: “So you ordered at 1:45 am, and it was delivered at… 1:16 am? That is fast, but that can’t be right.”

Me: *thinking back* “Wasn’t that the day we set our clocks back? So that does make sense. Maybe your computer system couldn’t handle a negative and it overflowed?”

Manager: “Like Gandhi?”

Me: “Yeah, like Gandhi.”

Manager: “Well, sorry to bother you, and I hope you order again soon. We’ll be fast next time, too, but we can’t get it to you before you order. That was a one-time thing!”

Not Panning Out Well

| Grants, NM, USA | Right | November 18, 2016

(I work for a very popular pizza delivery chain. During my shift I answer the phone.)

Me: “Thank you for choosing [Pizza Place]. This is [My Name]. How may I assist you today?”

Customer: “Yes I’d like to order an ultimate pepperoni pizza.”

Me: “All right, ma’am, may I ask is this for delivery or carry out?”

Customer: “Delivery.”

Me: “And what size pizza and style of crust would you like?”

Customer: “I want a large pan pizza.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, ma’am. We only carry pan pizza in medium.”

Customer: “Why? What if that’s what the customer wants? How much is this going to cost me anyway?”

Me: “We’ll, ma’am, we haven’t finished your order yet. I still need to know the size and style of crust you would like.”

Customer: “I already told you, large pan.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we only carry pan crust in medium. The pans themselves are medium size. There is no way for us to make a large pan pizza. You can get a medium pan for [amount].”

Customer: “I don’t want a medium; I want a large.”

Me: “Well, here are the crusts available in large: hand tossed, Brooklyn style, or crunchy thin.”

Customer: “Hand tossed, I suppose.”

Me: “All right. What else can I get for you? Drinks? Sides? Desserts?”

Customer: “I want a two-liter [Brand #1 Soda] and 14-piece hot wings.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, we only carry [Brand #2 Soda] products.”

Customer: “Well, Jeezus, can’t you people ever satisfy anyone?! You are not good at your job at all. I want regular [Brand #2 Soda] and make sure to send peppers and parmesan cheese with the driver.”

Me: “Ma’am, we do have to charge for the parmesan now because it comes in a larger shaker container.”

Customer: “This is such bull-s***! I call you expecting good customer service and I bet you were even going to charge me for the delivery weren’t you!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. Our delivery charge is $2.99 and the cost goes to our insurance company to help protect our drivers on the road. None of the $2.99 goes to the driver.”

Customer: “This is absolutely ridiculous. I’m never ordering from here again. I’m going to have you boycotted into bankruptcy. Then you’ll see.”

Me: “All right, ma’am. So, are you canceling your order?”

Customer: “Yes, I am.”

Me: “Well, I apologize for any inconvenience and I do hope you have a great day.”

Customer: “F*** you, you piece of s***!” *hangs up*

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