Lacking Some Nuggets Of Understanding

, | CA, USA | Working | April 16, 2015

(Every Saturday my mom takes me, my grandma, and my sister to the mall for lunch. When we get lunch, my sister wants the same thing at the same fast food restaurant every time. Usually the workers there are plenty polite and we get our food relatively fast, except for this one time…)

Mom: “Hello, we’d like a six-piece nugget meal, some orange juice, and some ketchup.”

Employee: “Hi, what would you like to order?”

Mom: “We’d like a six-piece-nugget meal, some orange juice, and some ketchup.”

Employee: “A six-piece nugget meal?”

Mom: “I’d like a six-piece nugget meal, some orange juice, and some ketchup, please.”

Employee: “What drink?”

Mom: *in a slightly exasperated voice* “Orange juice. I’d also like some ketchup.”

Employee: “Would you like any sauce?”

Mom: *sighs* “Ketchup.”

Employee: “So you want a six-piece nugget meal, orange juice, and ketchup?”

Mom: “Yes!”

Employee: “Your total is [amount].”

Mom: *pays*

(We leave with our food and join our grandma, who has the rest of our food. That never happened to us again. I guess the guy was either new or really zoned out that day!)

Who Blew It The Most

| VA, USA | Related | April 15, 2015

(My father just managed to confuse my stepmother and me by talking about hotel breakfast hours while in a diner that serves breakfast. Once we get the confusion cleared up, this exchange occurs.)

Dad: “I blew it.”

(Pause.)

Dad: “I blew it.”

(He literally blows on his menu.)

Dad: “I. Blew. It.”

(I blow at him.)

Me: “I blew you!… No. Forget I said that.”

Sandwiched Between A Manager And A Hard Place

, | OH, USA | Working | April 15, 2015

(My brother frequents the store that I work at because he enjoys visiting me. Due to this, one manager has come to like him so much that she memorizes his order and has done her best to see to it that everyone else knows it as well. This happens when she is on vacation and another manager is on duty.)

Mom: *drives into the drive-thru*

Manager: “Welcome to [Store]. How may I help you?”

Mom: “I would like [Sandwich] and um, a [Sandwich] the way [Brother] likes it.”

Manager: “And what is that?”

(At this point, I am scrambling to go and tell the manager what it is since I am to assist him with taking orders, however, he shoves me aside.)

Manager: “Ma’am, you are the parent. You should know how to make [Brother]’s sandwich!”

Me: *fed up with being ignored* “EXTRA PICKLE, EXTRA ONION, EXTRA KETCHUP! LARGE WITH TWO CUPS OF NACHO CHEESE! AND UNSWEET TEA!”

Manager: *rings this in* “Your total is [amount].”

(When my mom pulls up to the window, my manager proceeds to chew her out because of her order. After she pulls away.)

Manager: “Is that the only reason why your mom comes here only when you’re working, [My Name]? Pathetic!”

Me: “[Manager], that is not the whole case—”

Manager: “—and what is [Brother] now? Didn’t you say he is 18? He should learn to speak up!”

Me: “That isn’t the problem!”

Manager: “Then what is it?”

Me: “[Brother] is autistic. He has problems speaking up! Especially to his parents! And my mom comes in to keep me company!”

Manager: “He should still learn to speak up!”

(The next day, I learned that my coworker who was on the grill reported this to the General Manager. She came to me and told me that my mom could come in and order just like that again, despite what that last manager said. That manager now refuses to serve my family when they come through the drive-thru.)

A Lack Of Doctor WHO

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Related | April 14, 2015

Dad: “This Ebola virus epidemic is ridiculous. It just shows an astounding lack of competence. They should have declared it an emergency five months ago, not one month ago.”

Me: “Who?”

Dad: “Yes, WHO. Exactly.”

(In case anyone is confused, WHO is the abbreviation for the World Health Organisation.)

Mrs. Potato Head

| Lafayette, LA, USA | Friendly | April 13, 2015

(My husband and I are out with a friend. We’re lingering over the remnants of our meals and discussing cartoons, when my husband stands up to use the restroom.)

Friend: “And we never saw [Husband] again.”

Me: “What!? Nooo! He’s my husband!”

Friend: “Not anymore. Those potatoes are your husband now.”

(He gestures at my plate, which I then slowly pull closer to myself.)

Me: “Well, I’m Irish. They’ll be a good husband.”

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