Too Chicken To Admit Their Mistake

| Long Island, NY, USA | Working | May 3, 2015

(I’m at a prix-fixed Fourth of July dinner at a beachfront seafood restaurant. It is $100 per person, and we are a table of 10. Being a vegetarian, there isn’t anything on the menu that I can eat. The waitress tells me that they have a plain pasta dish as an alternative, and I agree to that. Service has been slow and sporadic. It takes forever to get appetizers and drinks. Over two hours later, dinner is finally served.)

Me: “This isn’t plain pasta.”

Server: “Yes, it is.”

Me: “No, there are clearly chunks of chicken in it. This was supposed to be vegetarian.”

Server: “Then it is.”

Me: “Chicken is not vegetarian.”

Server: “Okay. I’ll get you a new plate.”

(A few moments later, he comes back with a dish and puts it in front of me quickly before walking away.)

Me: “This is the exact same plate.”

Friend: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes! Look! They only picked out the chunks of chicken that were on top. There’s still chicken underneath.”

(Needless to say, a manager was called for and the heads of our party chewed him out. I wasn’t surprised to find out that the restaurant ended up going out of business later on.)

A Good Demonstration Of Bad Automation

, | Germany | Working | April 30, 2015

(I’m at a store of a popular sandwich chain where they prepare the food as you order. As a semi-regular, I recognize most of the employees. This guy, however, is new to me. He flashes me a friendly smile as I get to the counter.)

Me: “Hi there. Would you make me two large subs on white bread with turkey and ham, with cheddar on both of them, please?”

(He grabs one sub and starts preparing it.)

Employee: “Sure thing. And would you like that toasted?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Employee: “And what kind of cheese?”

Me: “Cheddar. On both of them.”

(He looks confused for a second, then turns to the bread and hovers with his hand over it.)

Employee: “What kind of bread for the second one?”

Me: “It’s the same as the first.”

Employee: “Oh, right.” *grabs the white bread and prepares it* “And what kind of cheese?”

Me: “Cheddar. Both are pretty much exactly the same, save for the sauce.”

Employee: “All righty! You wanted that toasted, right?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Employee: “Both of them?”

Me: “Yes, they’re the same.”

Employee: *after he put the subs in the toaster* “Sorry, I spilled some of the cheese on one of them.” *he looks at me expectantly but does nothing*

Me: “That’s all right.”

Employee: “And what else would you like on that?”

Me: “Both with lettuce, onions, peppers ,and olives, please.”

(He nods and begins putting tomatoes on the sandwich.)

Me: “No tomatoes, please.”

Employee: *laughing insecurely* “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that row is basically what I have to put on everything.”

Me: “That’s okay. Automatism sometimes gets the best of us, huh?”

Employee: *staring at the vegetables for a second* “What did you want on that, again?”

Me: “Onions, peppers, olives.”

Employee: “Oh, right.” *he forgets the olives and goes for the sauces*

Me: “Olives, too, please.”

(Since he already forgot that I wanted the same on both subs, the same process repeats with the second one.)

Employee: “Sorry, right. And what kind of sauce would you like?”

Me: “The chipotle on one, mayo on the other. Easy on the mayo, please.”

Employee: “Sure thing.” *prepares the chipotle* “And aioli for the other?”

Me: “Regular mayo, and about half the amount you’d usually put on there, if that’s okay.”

Employee: *proceeds to cover half of the sub length-wise, and looks at me expectantly*

Me: *internal face-palm, but getting impatient* “Yeah, sure. That’s all right, I guess…”

(As he rings me up, chipper as before, I notice he rings my order up as to eat there – without asking me.)

Me: “I’d like that for take-away, please.”

Employee: “Oh! Sure, sorry. Most people just eat here.”

Me: “Yeah, sorry. Should’ve said that earlier.” *thinking ‘not that you’d remember if I had’*

Employee:“That’ll be [price], please.”

Me: *as I hand him the money, smiling* “Been a long day, huh?”

Employee: “What do you mean?”

Doesn’t Nose The Difference

| Allentown, PA, USA | Friendly | April 29, 2015

(Last year, both my mother and my stepfather – at different times of the year – suffered from chronic nosebleeds and ultimately had to get their nasal passages cauterized so they don’t bleed as easily. My best friend knows this. Fast forward to this year, when I have been experiencing a similar rash of nosebleeds. The first one happens very randomly while my friend and I are attending an anime convention, and I am horribly embarrassed but grateful to the attentive con staff. I have a total of five bleeds throughout the weekend, but then don’t have another one for several days. This is perhaps two weeks after the con, and she and I are out to lunch.)

Me: “Good news, I haven’t had a nosebleed in five days.”

Friend: “You had another one?”

Me: “Yeah. Monday night I woke up around two in the morning because my nose was tingling.”

Friend: *very seriously* “Are you going to have to get your nose castrated like your mom?”

(Once I finally stopped laughing, I had to explain the difference between castration and cauterization.)

I’ve Gotta Find This Pizza Place

| GA, USA | Working | April 29, 2015

(I’m moving and in the process of packing everything up. I decide to go grab some pizzas for everyone. I have a buy-one-get-one-free coupon. I order what I want, and hand over the coupon. The cashier looks confused and rings up my order. I try to hand him money.)

Cashier: “No, you don’t owe us money. You get the pizzas free.”

Me: “What are you talking about?”

Cashier: “This coupon means you get your pizzas free.”

(We continued to argue until the manager showed up and agreed with his employee. I ended up walking away with two free pizzas, free soda, AND cash back.)

Harry Potter And The Really Long Funeral

| Portugal | Friendly | April 28, 2015

(The marching band I’m a part of is celebrating its anniversary with a trip abroad for all it’s members. We left the day after the international release of the fifth Harry Potter book. It’s the evening, and some of us are talking over dinner.)

Band Member #1: “I really like this trip, and we’ve done a lot of fun stuff, but the bus rides are really boring.”

Me: “Yeah. I wish I’d brought my cd player, and then I could listen to music. [Band Member #2] lent me his for a bit yesterday; it was nice.”

Band Member #3: “I brought a book, but I can’t read in the bus. I get car sick.”

Me: “Oh, I wanted to bring Order of the Phoenix. I bought it the day before we left, but I only got to around 300 pages in. Mom wouldn’t let me bring it with me, though. She didn’t want to wait to read it until I got back.”

(This is the middle of the Harry Potter craze, so excitement breaks out around the table.)

Band Member #4: “Is it out already?”

Band Member #3: “What happens? How does it end?”

Me: “It’s out in English. The Norwegian translation will take a while, but I couldn’t wait. I’m not gonna tell you what happens; besides, I’m only halfway or something.”

Band Member #5: “I heard someone dies. Who is it? Hagrid? Ron? Sirius? Snape? Dumbledore?”

Me: “I don’t know; I haven’t finished it yet.”

Band Member #5: “It’s Harry, isn’t it? Harry dies?”

Me: *sarcastically* “Yes. He dies at the end of book five. The next two books in the seven book series is about the funeral.”

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