Unfiltered Story #167593

, , | Unfiltered | September 20, 2019

(We are serving breakfast and we get a lot of builders coming in before they go to work, or for a morning break. One orders pancakes on table 50, which is easily seen from the bar.)

Coworker: ‘hey, table 50’s pancakes, the lady says she didn’t order them’
Me: *looking up* ‘uh, no, she didn’t. It was a guy in a grey hoodie, he’s been sat with his friend while his friend ate breakfast. You’ll know it’s him because his hands are covered in paint’
Coworker: ‘oh, right well I’ll have a look for him’
He eventually comes back having had no luck, so I go and see if I can find him on the floor. I look inside the pub and out to see if he’s having a smoke, I even look on our roof terrace which is currently closed for food but open to take drinks. He is nowhere to be found.
Me: ‘hey, I can’t find him either, he’s not in the pub’
Coworker: ‘well they can stay here until he claims them, why would you order pancakes and then just disappear?’
Me: ‘I don’t know, I’ll let him know if I see him’
I told another co worker about this later, saying I never saw him come back. She says I should have told her earlier, thinking she’s seen the customer I asked if she had served him, she replied ‘no, but I was hungry and they were free pancakes!’

He never did come back for them.

Free Will Gets Free Drink

, , , , | Right | September 14, 2019

(I work in a small pub. It’s a small village and we get quite a few regulars. One of these regulars is my uncle’s best friend. My uncle has recently passed away from bowel cancer, and his best friend is taking it especially hard. Neither men married and my uncle died quite young. I’m behind the bar.)

Me: “Hi, [Best Friend]. How are you today?”

Best Friend: “Not good, love. Can’t wait to get this will business out of the way.”

Me: “Put your money away; this one’s on me.”

(I make a note in the employee book to charge for the drink and pull the pint. Just as I pass it over, this happens:)

Woman: “Why does that man get a free drink? I want a free drink!”

Me: *ignoring the woman* “The restaurant through there is empty at the moment, [Uncle’s Best Friend]. Feel free to go sit down for a minute. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Woman: “Don’t you ignore me! I want a pint of Carlsberg and I’m not paying for it!”

Me: “I bought that man a drink out of my own money as he’s going through a tough time right now. I don’t even know you!”

Woman: “Well, I’m [Woman]; buy me a drink!”

(My manager comes out of the back and the woman’s eyes widen.)

Woman: “Oh, f***.”

Manager: “You’re still barred, [Woman]! Get out!”

(The woman scurries away.)

Me: “What did she do?”

Manager: “She pissed in someone’s pint when they went to the bathroom.”

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Very Bitter About It

, , , , | Right | September 5, 2019

(I work in a rock pub, and on this particular Saturday we are short-staffed and low on our draft beers — so low, in fact, that by 10:00 pm we are out of cider, lager, pilsner, and bitter! We still have about four other drafts to choose from, and a selection of bottled beers and ales. All of the drafts that are off have a glass over them to show they are empty. One customer has been in since before my shift started at 8:00, and so is aware of which drafts are off.)

Customer: “Can I have a pint of [Bitter]?”

Me: “Sorry, sir, we’ve run out of that; can I get you something else?”

Customer: “For f***’s sake. Fine, what bottles have you got?”

Me: “Well, [Bottle #1] and [Beer #1] have been popular substitutes.”

Customer: “How much is [Bottle #1]?”

Me: “It’s [price].”

Customer: “What about [Beer #1]? How much is that?”

Me: “It’s [slightly higher price].”

Customer: *exasperated sigh* “What kind of s***hole is this?”

(I blink at the customer, slightly surprised by the comment is he is a semi-regular here.)

Me: “Well, sir, it is the kind of s***hole you are more than welcome to leave.”

(He looked at me slightly taken aback and hopefully realising how stupid his comment was before ordering his beer.)

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The Pluck Of The Irish

, , , , , , , | Working | August 23, 2019

(I work at an Irish pub owned by a management company. I am the assistant manager. Our general manager has come in recently and has not dealt much with the area manager yet. One day quite soon after Saint Patrick’s weekend — our busiest day of the year — our area manager comes in for a meeting with the two of us, as he occasionally does at random intervals, mainly to complain about stuff. It is worth noting that both the general manager and I are Irish, and the area manager is English.)

Area Manager: “So, why haven’t you put up those posters I asked you to put up?”

General Manager: “You sent that message this morning; we haven’t had time yet.”

(It is 9:00 am. The message to print and put up the posters came at 8:00.)

Area Manager: “Oh, I see. Typical f****** Irish, can’t do f******* anything we ask you, can you? Both of you are useless. F****** Paddies.”

(For a second, the general manager and I stare at each other, stunned. Then, the general manager stands. It’s worth noting he is huge, and towers over the area manager. Everything he says is delivered in a very calm, but hugely menacing voice.)

General Manager: “You get out of my pub, right now, or I’ll put you out through the f****** window.”

(The area manager seems to realise he’s made a mistake. He laughs nervously and looks at me. I’m pretty much a pacifist at the best of times, but this guy has been getting on my nerves for a while, and this is the last straw. I stand, as well.)

Area Manager: “And what are you going to do?”

Me: “I might open the window first.”

(The area manager left very quickly. He was later transferred to another area once my general manager complained and refused to work with him anymore. The kicker? The company was owned by an Irishman.)

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Unfiltered Story #159881

, , , | Unfiltered | August 4, 2019

So to set the scene. The pub I work at is in a very affluent and rich area of London that sits on the River Thames. We have a terrace and below that benches where could dip your toes into the water if you chose to. If it rains then we’re dead, if the suns out then we’re as alive as newborn baby. The weather had been s**t all week but the so called ‘Spanish Ploom’ blew up and it’s all of a sudden 30 degrees on a Saturday.

Bear in mind that customers at this pub are great at handling particular things not being available and understand that the bar staff is not responsible.

At the point of my story we had 30+ people at our ‘island’ bar and hundreds more enjoying beer, food and sunshine. Good for business but bad for the three bar staff trying to get around to each customer whilst using our photographic memories to know who came first. Couple this with a menu exhausted of most items and a soda water gun that has just broken down under the pressure.

Me: Hi, what can I get you?

Lady: Hmmm could I get a Peroni, a large malbec and a white wine spritzer please?

Me: I’m really sorry but the gun that supplies the soda water is broken so don’t have any.

Lady: What’s the difference between soda water and sparkling water?

Me: (No idea at the time. Since researched it for future ammo) I’m not sure. Would you like a bottle of sparking water?

Lady: You’re going to charge me for it? It’s not my fault you have no soda water.

Me: I understand that but they cost £2.50 per bottle and we can’t just give those out for free. I’m sorry.

This is when she storms off to her table and I serve the next customer. She comes back over and I finish up and go straight back her, avoiding the gaze of dozens of other customers already p***ed at waiting.

Me: Hi again

Lady: Hi.Thanks for waiting for me (sarcastic).

Me: (Urgh but ignored, although I getting really annoyed now. I hate rude customers). Have you decided what you would like?

She pulls up the menu and points to two of the things we do not have on the menu.

Me: I’m really sorry but we don’t have those. It’s been really busy today. I can tell you what we do h…

She now screams to a table across the pub where I see an older woman, an older man and somebody I’m assuming is her husband.

Lady: Mum! They don’t have the mussels either. Jesus Christ.

The Mother now storms over to the bar and takes her place next to her daughter. She is very angry.

Mother: So you’re telling me that you don’t have soda water and you don’t have anything on the menu. What’s the point? What do you have?

Me: I was just going to…

Lady: Well go on then.

They were already rude to begin with but they had just punched through my ceiling of suffer-ability.

Me: (Calmly). Listen. Can we just stop this right here please? I know it’s annoying but it’s not my fault this has happened. I can only serve you what we have and you’re being incredibly rude to me. I’m a human like you are and there is no need for you to talk to me like this.

Lady: You’ve been rude to me since the beginning! When I went back over to the table I told them that the server (me) is being really passive aggressive to me (she means polite but firm, we have 30 customers and three bar staff. No time to dilly dally).

Mother: Why are you even doing this job?

I could have explained that I was doing this to support myself through University but wanted this interaction over with. It’s the point in customer service that you would love to continue and perhaps turn them to your way of thinking but not in front of other customers. Who are now enjoying the show with your manager in the corner making customers coffee.

Me to Mother: This is the first interaction we’ve had and the first thing you did was shout at me.

Mother: Well if you can’t handle that then you’re in the wrong profession.

Here is when I turn to a colleague on the other side of the bar and call out to her. I wanted to swap customer but it wasn’t possible. It seemed the right thing to do but in hindsight it’s like sending your friend to Bali with a bag of drugs so you could get high whilst they get the firing squad.

Welcome the five seconds of awkward silence.

Mother: Oh I don’t to stay here now anyway.

They storm off and I see every customer on my side of the bar staring wide-eyed at me. I’m not sure if it was sympathetic as I kept my voice down and they couldn’t here me.

Then I hear a shout:

Mother: Where is your manager? I want to see your manager

I’m not sure if I was bothered here but it couldn’t be a great thing for me. Having to explain myself in front of angry customers without being rude and then having to walk away knowing they’d give their deranged view of what happened would be unpleasant. I pointed to the coffee machine and said over there and carried on serving other customers with a smile as though nothing had happened. After ten seconds I had a look around and noticed the manager still working away and the ‘angered’ customers nowhere in sight.

For the sake of this story it would have been great for that next step to have been taken. It shows how messed up it can be in customer service that you would be worried for your job because you were mistreated by others.