H2… Oh

, , , , , | Right | November 27, 2017

(While most restaurants only offer Coke or Pepsi products, this one has both.)

Customer: “What sodas do you have?”

Me: “We have Coke, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, Caffeine-Free Diet Coke, Fanta, Sprite, Root Beer, Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Pepsi Max, Mountain Dew, Diet Mountain Dew, and Dr. Pepper.”

Customer: *with a disappointed look on her face* “I’ll just have water.”

(What could she possibly have wanted that we didn’t have?)

A Welcome Method To Overstaying Your Welcome

, , , , , , , | Friendly | November 7, 2017

(Living in a college apartment with five other girls can get interesting. One of the girls goes home for a month in the summer, and when she comes back, her sister comes with her. She asks each of us if we’d mind her sister staying for a week or two, just until she finds a place of her own. Since we’re all busy helping prepare for the wedding of another roommate — and helping her move to her married apartment, while another girl takes over her spot — we don’t mind, so long as it’s only for a week, two tops. She also asks to borrow my camp cot. Unfortunately, a month passes, and her sister’s still there. There are other issues as well, and I get designated to talk to the roommate, since she’s a friend of mine.)

Me: “Hey, [Roommate #1], can we talk? It’s about your sister.”

Roommate #1: *resigned sigh* “Sorry, but you know how it is. It can be hard to find an apartment, especially when you’re new to a town.”

Me: “That’s just it. I was talking with her last night, and she hasn’t even started looking! She tried to foist me off by saying she’d start this weekend, and then immediately called [Friend] to make plans for the entire weekend.”

Roommate #1: “Ugh. I’ll talk to her.”  

Me: “If that was it, that would be one thing, but… the cot’s destroyed, and it wasn’t cheap; I don’t know how she managed to damage it so badly. She’s also been eating everyone else’s food, and when we’ve asked her to stop, she refuses and says she’ll just replace it. But she hasn’t. I’m out over $100 in food already, and some of the others are out more. We really can’t afford to feed your sister; we’ve budgeted carefully to get through the semester. It’s one thing if she asked, or if we offered. But just taking our food off the shelves is theft, and a couple of the girls are getting really upset; they want to call the landlord and get him to sort it out. I’ve talked them out of it, because his solution would probably be to cancel your contract, and none of us want you punished. It’s not your fault.”

Roommate #1: *bursts into tears* “I’m so sorry! I’m trying to get her to start looking for a job and a place of her own. I really am!”

Me: “Oh, hon! I know. It’s not your fault. It’s harder when it’s family. I get that. What can I do to help?”

Roommate #1: “I don’t know. I’m trying to motivate her, but… she just doesn’t seem to care.”

Me: “All right. She’s your little sister, and you feel like you have to protect her. I’ve been there. Do you want me to step in? I’m not her sister. I can be the designated b**** in this situation; it doesn’t matter to me if she hates me.”

Roommate #1: “Would you? Could you? But what… I mean, do you have an idea?”

Me: “I do, if you want me to. In fact, I can almost guarantee it will work. But I’ll need you to stand firm with us.”

Roommate #1: “I can do that. What’s the plan?”

(I tell her, and then we wait for her sister to come home, which doesn’t happen until very late. I’m waiting for her on the front porch.)

Me: “[Sister], we need to talk.”

Sister: “Can it wait until tomorrow? I’m bushed!”

Me: “No, it can’t wait. We have a problem.”

Sister: “Well, talk to [Roommate] about it. I’m going to bed!”

Me: “That’s just it. No, you’re not.”

Sister: “What?”

Me: “You don’t live here. We agreed to let you stay for a week, two at most. As of today, it’s been a month. If you want to stay another night, you need to start paying your share of rent. That’s [amount], by the way.”

Sister: “I can’t afford that!”

Me: “Not my problem. Although any apartment around here is going to run more than one seventh of this place, just so you know.”

Sister: “Seriously, can we talk about this tomorrow? I’m going to bed.”

Me: “You’re still not getting it, are you? You aren’t crossing this threshold again.”  

Sister: *it finally clicks that I’m serious* “You can’t do that!”

Me: “Actually, I can. I live here. You don’t.”

Sister: “Yes, I do!”

Me: “No, you don’t. Your name is not on the contract, you’re not paying rent, and you’re stealing everyone’s food. And if you step through that door again, I’m calling the cops and having you arrested.”

Sister: “For what?”

Me: “Theft and trespassing, for starters. And since the door’s locked, it would also be breaking and entering.”

Sister: “You can’t do this!”

Me: “Yes, I can.”

Sister: “But what about my stuff?”

Me: “Your sister and I can bring you out anything you need, and we’ll both be glad to help you haul everything to your new apartment, just as soon as you’ve found one.”

Sister: “But where am I supposed to sleep?”

Me: “The landlord took the old love seat out of the living room last week; it’s on the patio out back. My sleeping bag is already waiting for you. I’ll need it back in the morning.”

Sister: “You can’t just leave me out here! I’ll start looking tomorrow, but you can’t just leave me outside!”

Me: “Oh, just stop whining for one second in your life! It’s still summer; you’ll be lucky if it gets down to 70. You’re not going to freeze. It’s no worse than camping — better, really, since you have the love seat — and I know you’ve gone camping plenty of times.”

Sister: “But… I… You… But…!”

Me: “Your sister and I visited the housing office after class today. We have a print-out of available places you can start looking at first thing in the morning. Give me a call if it gets colder than the forecast said; I’ll bring you out a spare blanket. Good night.”

(I let myself in, and then lock the door behind me.)

Sister: *starts pounding on the door and ringing the bell* “Let me in! You can’t do this!”

(Hearing the noise, everyone starts coming into the living room to see what’s going on.)

Me: “[Roommate #1]’s sister will be sleeping on the love seat out back tonight, after which she’ll be finding an apartment of her own. Don’t worry; I’ve loaned her a sleeping bag.”

Roommate #2: *starts laughing* “Oh, that’s genius! She’s not going to freeze though, is she?”

Me: “We’ve all been sleeping with our windows open, trying to catch a breeze. It’s hot out; she’s more likely to sweat to death than freeze. In fact, she’ll probably have more pleasant temperatures than any of us.”

Roommate #2: “Oh, good. Night, then!”

(Everyone else goes back to bed as well, and the sister soon gives up yelling, ringing, and knocking. She then tries to sneak in the back door, but finds it locked tight. Then she tries calling her sister repeatedly.)

Roommate #1: *looking at her phone* “What do I do?”

(I hold out my hand, and she gives me the phone. I answer:)

Me: “[Roommate #1]’s phone, [My Name] speaking.”

Sister: “Let me in, you [insult]!”

Me: “Nope. Not happening. Have a nice night.”

Sister: *screams and hangs up, finally going around back and flinging herself on the loveseat*

(The next morning, I handed her the sheaf of papers with apartment listings. She had a place of her own within an hour. Go figure.)

 

A Sizeable Problem

, , , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(I work at a fast food restaurant. For some reason, people don’t seem to understand sizes. I am often on the drive-thru, and you would not believe the frequency with which these exact exchanges occur, with multiple customers.)

Me: “Hi, what can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’ll just have a #1.”

Me: “What size would you like that combo?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: “Okay, and what size?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “[Soda].”

Me: *over-enunciating* “Do you want the fries and drink small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “Actually, make that a [Other Soda].”

Me: *picks random size for them* “Thank you. Please pull forward.”

(Another incident: a customer goes through the process of ordering whatever food, and then…)

Me: “Small, medium, or large?”

Customer: “What does that mean?”

Me: “What size do you want [Item] in?”

Customer: “What does it come in?”

Me: “It comes in either small, medium, or large.”

Customer: “I’ll take a regular.”

Me: “So, you want that in a medium?”

Customer: “No, just give me the regular size.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll make that a small.”

Customer: “Just give me whatever size it comes in!”

Me: *picks size for them* “Thank you. Please pull forward.”

(Plot twist: sometimes the customer really wants “extra large,” which is not an actual size here, and pulls all the way back through the line to have us get their order “right.”)