Phoning In The Parenting

, , , , , , | Friendly | December 19, 2018

(My wife has always been pretty direct, but pregnancy seems to have amplified it. We’re standing outside the local pub one day chatting to some friends when a kid, between seven and nine years old I think, cycles past. We see this kid all the time and he always has one hand on the handlebars and with the other is holding and staring at his phone. He also doesn’t wear a helmet. On this occasion, my wife reaches out as he cycles past and nabs the phone out of his hand.)

Kid: “Hey!”

Wife: “If I see you cycling with this d*** thing in your hand and not looking at the road one more time it is going straight in the river.”

(The kid goes from startled to angry, but my beloved is too quick for him.)

Wife: “Just what the h*** are you thinking? You could hit someone. You could end up under a d*** car. You think your parents want to spend Christmas sat around your hospital bed, you idiot?”

(At this the kid seems to crumple a little. My wife holds out the phone to him.)

Wife: “Now switch it off. Put it in your pocket. Go home and ask Santa for a d*** helmet.”

(The kid takes the phone back and, very sensibly, does as my wife says. We figure that’s the end of it and go back to chatting to our friends. About ten minutes later a woman marches up to us and smacks my wife’s glass of lemonade out of her hand.)

Woman: “How dare you?! My son has just come home in floods of tears saying you yelled at him and scared him! You told him he was going to die! And now I see you drinking, probably trying to harm another precious baby! What kind of woman are you?”

Wife: “Lady, I told your son that if he didn’t stop looking at his d*** phone while cycling then, yes, he might end up dead or seriously injure someone else. Lady, I’m the kind of woman who drinks lemonade while she’s pregnant because, unlike you, I have some concern for my kids!”

Woman: “It’s no business of yours what my son was doing!”

Wife: “Not looking at the road and causing danger to the public? It is absolutely my business. And before you say one more thing, your son seems to be a h*** of a lot smarter than you and he got this pretty quick. How would you like to spend Christmas around your son’s hospital bed? Or in a lawyer’s office after whoever he hits sues for damages?”

(The woman has gone flame red and storms off. My wife turns to me.)

Wife: “Was I a little harsh?”

(I told her that I didn’t think so and that she’d said the right thing. A couple of days later the same kid saw my wife in the village and told her that he’d only been crying because he’d realised how dangerously he had been behaving and apologised for his mother. He even told my wife that she’ll be a great mum, and I agree.)

This Food That I (H)Ate

, , , , | Right | December 13, 2018

(I am looking after the pub while the manager is away on holiday. It’s lunchtime, and the whole place is very busy. One woman has ordered food for herself and her family — three others. As we are very busy, I am on the bar serving food and drinks as required, and also walking the floor tidying and doing standard “check-backs.”)

Me: “Sorry to interrupt, but could I just check that everything is okay with your food here?”

Whole Table: “Yes, thank you, very good.”

Me: “Excellent. If I can get you anything else, just give me a shout.”

(I then leave the table and go back to the bar to continue serving the many other customers. About ten minutes later…)

Woman: “Excuse me. I have a complaint about our food and would like a refund.”

Me: “Okay, bear with me for just one moment. I will finish serving this customer and be with you straight away.”

(I walk over to the table to discuss what the issue is.)

Me: “I’m very sorry; what is the problem with the food?”

Woman: “It wasn’t cooked very well, and wasn’t very tasty.”

(I notice that all four plates are virtually empty; in fact, two are totally clean.)

Me: “I am very sorry you feel that way, but I notice that you have eaten almost all your meals, and when I checked on you part way through the meal you seemed very content and did not raise any issues to me at any other time.”

Woman: *getting a little bit aggressive* “I don’t care; I am making a complaint now and would like a refund.”

Me: *remaining very calm* “I do apologise, but unfortunately we do have a policy that if the customer does not raise a concern until after they have eaten all the food, then a refund cannot be given for the food. I would be happy to provide your party with an extra drink by way of a goodwill gesture.”

Woman: *shouting very loudly* “That is not good enough! I want a full refund! Where is the manager?! I want to speak to the manager!”

(At this stage all my experience and ability to remain calm are wearing very thin.)

Me: “Okay, bear with me. I will just see if the manager is available.”

(I remove the plates from the table and head through the doors to the kitchen where I wait for a few moments, before heading back over to the table.)

Me: “Hello, madam, I understand you have an issue with the service and the food. Is there anything I can do for you?”

(With this, half the pub, who are very much aware of who I am and what I am doing, start laughing.)

Woman: “Is this some sort of joke?!”

Me: “No, madam. I am the manager and I have explained to you very clearly what our policy is; I have even gone above and beyond to try to appease you, despite the fact that you very obviously were trying to scam free food. If I could ask you to leave now, please, as I have instructed my staff not to serve you any longer, that would be most appreciated. Thank you.”

(When I got back behind the bar, I was bought four separate drinks from customers, as I had made their days. I never did see the family in the pub again.)

I’ll Have A Vodka And Nope

, , , , , | Right | December 12, 2018

(I work in a traditional pub in a tourist and university town. It is nearly closing time on a Friday night and everyone in the bar, other than my colleague and me, is very drunk.)

Customer: “I’ll have half a pint of cider, a rum and coke, a house vodka and lemonade, and an [Expensive Vodka] and Coke.”

Me: “Sure!”

(I pour the drinks and hand them to him. We do not have enough [Expensive Vodka] left in the bottle for a full measure, but since it is almost enough, and I know the man to be a local who works at a pub down the road, I pour him the drink, anyway, and don’t charge him for it.)

Me: “That’ll be £8.80—”

Customer: “What?! You can shove that price right up your a***!”

(I am quite taken aback; though visiting customers sometimes complain about the price, they are never this rude, and the prices in the bar where the customer works are significantly higher than ours. Struggling to keep my temper, I look him dead in the eyes.)

Me: “Well, that’s a shame, since your actual bill would have been a lot higher had I not knocked the price of [Expensive Vodka] off your bill…”

(He paid silently and shuffled away with his drinks.)

Should Have Read More Into Sports

, , , , , | Friendly | December 6, 2018

Shortly after I move to Newcastle, a taxi driver and I have a chat about what he tells me is a historical problem with poor education in the town. He says that he personally knows a lot of guys from his school who left practically unable to read and write — he is probably in his mid-fifties. We agree that this is awful and talk about how there are lots of supports nowadays for adult learners.

That weekend, I am queuing to go into a pub when I see a sign saying the “Newcastle Reading Championship” is on in the pub that night. I think how it’s great that there is a celebration of adult learners, but I do think it’s kind of strange they are doing it in a pub.

When I get into the bar, I see a crowd of football supporters watching Newcastle playing Reading in a Championship game.

Unfiltered Story #124793

, , , | Unfiltered | November 6, 2018

(I’m a girl in my early twenties, working Saturday night behind the bar and it’s been a relatively slow night with no drama. A customer around my age walks up to the bar and looks at me intensely. This guy has been to our pub several times before.)

Customer: “I feel like I’ve seen you before somewhere. You look so familiar.”
(I steady myself for the usual lines that we get every night.)
Me: “Probably here at the pub.”
Customer: “No, that’s not it.. OK, this is gonna sound weird but have you ever been arrested?”
(I’m starting to feel the warning signals)
Me: “No….”
Customer: “Well I’m a cop so I thought that might have been it. You see we made this arrest at a brothel a while back.”
Me: “Umm, alright… Well I’m afraid I wasn’t there..”
(He seems to suddenly realize what he’s implying.)
Customer: “Oh no I’m not saying I thought you worked there, there were just so many of their customers outside that we had to talk to so I though you might have been one of them.”
Me: “…Yeah, no…”
(There is a long awkward silence and I’m starting to move away, wanting to get far away from him)
Customer: “I really screwed this up didn’t I?”
Me: “Pretty much.”
(He walks away after this and I will avoid any future conversations with that guy.)

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