What Would Hydaelyn Do?

, , , , , , | Right | October 7, 2019

(I am working after school at my family’s pizza place during the winter of 2016. I am working at the counter and have just helped a few other students from my high school, one of whom is wearing a red hat with the text “Make Eorzea Great Again” on it. Eorzea is a fictional land from a popular online video game. The hat is essentially a meme, poking fun at the MAGA hats of the current presidential campaign. I smile at the kids from my school and tell them I’ll bring their slices over to them when they’re ready then begin helping my next customer.)

Me: “Hello! What can I get started for you?”

(Nothing but visible anger and grumbling.)

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t catch that.”

(She walks over to the booth the prior customers sat down in and grabs the red hat off of the one student’s head.)

Angry Customer: “How can you even serve these people here? It’s f****** disgusting!”

(I see where this is going. I’ve certainly got political beliefs of my own, especially for a sixteen-year-old, but I wouldn’t dream of bringing them to my family’s restaurant. I stifle a giggle and can’t quite suppress the accompanying smile as she cuts me off before I can point out her mistake.)

Angry Customer: “How can you be laughing about this? Trump wants to send you all back to Mexico!”

(I’m Italian; my entire family is Italian. We have perhaps slightly darker skin than your run-of-the-mill northern European along with dark hair and eyes. I can’t say I’m so much insulted by the idea that she thinks I’m Hispanic — since there’s nothing bad about being Hispanic — but more just perplexed by it since, after all, we are literally in my family’s pizza place. Can you get more Italian than that? My mom peeks at me from deeper in the kitchen; she’s a very shy person, though, and despite her willingness to step in I don’t want her to have to.)

Me: “I’m genuinely sorry that you’re upset. For what it’s worth, my family immigrated here more than ninety years ago from Italy, so we won’t be going anywhere and you don’t have to worry about us—”

(I see her face drop as she realizes her mistake but then she seems to refocus her anger on the hat. She interrupts me.)

Angry Customer: “That doesn’t matter! You still shouldn’t be serving these scum!”

(She takes the hat over to the soda pump and soaks it in cola. I mentally prepare for having to pay for this kid’s hat now.)

Me: “Ma’am, just look at the d*** hat.” *rubs the bridge of my nose, done with her, and grabs the slices that are ready for the students along with some drink cups* “What does it say?”

(I set down their stuff at their table. Thankfully, they’re good sports and are just cracking up at this rather than escalating the situation.)

Angry Customer: “I know what it says! So do you! It’s racist!”

(I take the hat from her and turn it around, dripping soda onto the floor in the process, and point out the entirely fictitious place listed instead of America.)

Me: “Do you know where that is? It’s in a video game. You ripped a hat off a student from [High School] and drenched it in soda all because you got angry at what you mistakenly thought it said. At this point, I don’t even want to serve you. I think it’s best if you leave.”

Angry Customer: “That’s not the point! Why are you defending them?! It’s still furthering his agenda! Are you people here racists, too?”

(My mom has apparently gone to grab my dad who is… certainly not shy. He’s also not thrilled that he’s overheard someone calling his daughter a racist.)

Dad: “You need to leave. Now.”

(He comes around the counter and the lady yells, yanks the students’ pizza off the table and onto the floor, and takes off out the door. Dad shakes his head, smiles at me, and goes back into the restaurant, presumably to grab something to clean up the mess.)

Me: “I’m sorry about your hat and the wait, guys. I’m sure I’ll be able to comp your meal and we can pay for a new hat or something.”

Customer With The Hat: *still laughing to the point of crying* “Don’t worry about any of that! It’s all good; we don’t mind waiting as long as I can rinse this out somewhere… but did it occur to you to tell her you’re the president of the Young Conservatives at school?”

(We all shared a good laugh at that and I made some friends. I still play that online game with those guys!)


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, , , , , | Right | September 21, 2019

(I’m training a new teller. She’s doing so well that I put her in her own window to see how she does. I’m working in the next station. Everything has been going normally until I hear raised voices coming from my trainee’s station. She pops her head around the corner.)

Trainee: “HELP!”

Me: “What’s up?”

Trainee: “I’ve got a problem.”

(I step over to her station where an older man is scowling at her. I don’t recognize him.)

Me: “Hello, sir! What can I get you?”

Customer: “I want to take [large amount] out of my account!”

Me: “No problem. We just need to see your ID.”

Customer: “Don’t either of you know who I am?!”

Me: “Well, she is in training, and I’ve never helped you, so… I’m sorry, no.”

Customer: “I’m State Senator [Customer]! Now give me my money!”

(I recognize the name. I’d actually voted for him in the last election. I put on my brightest customer service smile.)

Me: “That’s great! But since you’re taking a very large amount out, I still need your ID.”

(The customer’s jaw drops.)

Customer: “MANAGER! NOW!”

Me: “No problem, sir. I’ll be right back.”

(The manager is out, so I grab the nearest banker.)

Banker: *sighs* “I heard it all. Yes, that’s definitely him. He hardly ever comes in, but expects everyone to know who he is. I’ll take care of it.”

(She comes up and explains to him that we ID everyone who’s taking a large amount out. He calms down, produces an ID, and my trainee is able to complete the transaction.)

Customer: *calmly* “Thank you, ladies. Have a great day!” *exits*

Trainee: “WOW.”

Me: “Well, I know who I’m not voting for ever again…”

(This was several years ago. Sadly, he’s still in the state senate. However, I haven’t voted for him since!)

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The Sensitive White Male Will Go Off Before The Cheese Will

, , , , , , , | Right | August 6, 2019

(I’ve just opened a new package of white American cheese made by a company whose initials are LOL. I set a large plastic bag on the counter and write on it the date, the product code, and “LOL White” as a scowling old man walks up and sees what I’m doing. For reference, he’s white and so am I.)

Old Man: “What the h*** do you think you’re doing?!”

Me: “Huh?”

Old Man: “Laughing at the white man?!”

Me: “What are you talking about?”

(He slams his palm down on the bag I’m writing on.)

Old Man: “Right there! ‘Laughing out loud at the white man!’ F****** millennial [racial slur]-loving libtard feminist SJW socialist traitor!”

(I groan. Oh, joy, another one of those.)

Me: “That’s not what that means.”

Old Man: “Shut up! I know what all those stupid things your generation write on your liberal chat rooms mean! You millennials almost ruined this d*** country trying to destroy the white man! Well, you ain’t gettin’ away with it ever again now that Trump is in charge! Trump’s gonna send you all to Hell where you belong!”

(I grab the block of cheese and slam it on the counter right in the man’s face. Over the course of about three seconds, the look on his face goes from, “What the hell is he doing?” to, “Uh-oh, is that what I think it is?” to, “Oh, God, I’m an idiot,” to “NO, I CAN’T be the idiot!” to, “ENEMY! DESTROY! DESTROY!”. He slams both hands down on the counter and leans over it to scream in my face.)

Old Man: “TRUMP 2020! TRUMP 2020!”

(He turned around and stomped out of the store muttering about “f*****’ [racial slur]-lovers.”)

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In Soviet Russia, Cup Refills You!

, , , , , | Right | July 30, 2019

(I work at a large coffee shop. Store policy is to not give refills, but rather sell the coffee at the closest cup size. All is well until…)

Customer: “No refills? What are you, a communist?”

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At Least Someone Is Putting That To Use

, , , , , | Legal | July 27, 2019

(We’ve recently been getting calls from one of those fake auto warranty scam businesses. We’ve told them to take us off their calling list and threatened to report them to the FCC numerous times, but they still keep calling. Today, when I pick up the phone, it’s them again.)

Robocall: “Hello! This is [Robot Caller] calling about your car’s warranty. We see from our records that your warranty is expiring soon. Would you be interested in extending your warranty? Please answer yes or no!”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Robocall: “Sorry, I didn’t understand that. Would you be interested in extending your car’s warranty? Please answer yes or no!”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Robocall: “Sorry, I didn’t understand that. Let me connect you to one of our operators. Please stay on the line!”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Phone: *elevator music*

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Operator: “You’ve reached [Operator]. What extension are you trying to dial?”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Operator: “Excuse me? Are you trying to purchase a new warranty for your vehicle?”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Operator: “Sir, if you’re trying to purchase a new warranty, I can connect you to one of our sales representatives.”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Operator: “This is not funny, sir. You can’t just call our business and waste our time with silly games.”

Me: “Impeach Trump.”


Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Operator: “I’m blocking your number! F****** idiot!” *hangs up*

Me: “Impeach Trump.”

Phone: *dial tone*

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