(One day, there was a big crash on the interstate entrance to our establishment. Therefore, our servers got trapped in traffic and we only had three on the floor, so we went on a wait.)

Me: *calling a waiting customer’s name*

Customer: “Finally!”

Me: “How are you today?”

Customer: *sees the empty tables* “Why the h*** are you on a wait when you have all these empty tables?”

Me: “Due to the crash, we are short-staffed—”

Customer: “Just because you can’t get your employees to work it doesn’t mean you have to make your customers wait. This is bulls***.”

(The restrooms in our restaurant are near the front entrance. There is a large sign with red neon letters above the doors that says, “Restrooms.” The doors also say, “Men’s Room,” and, “Ladies’ Room.” I happen to be walking past them when a young woman approaches me.)

Guest: “Excuse me, sir. Do you have restrooms here?”

(Thinking she is joking, I glance behind me at the doors and then up at the sign. I turn back to her and shrug.)

Me: “Nope. Sorry.”

Guest: “Oh, okay. Thanks, anyway!”

(She turned and left the restaurant, leaving me quite confused.)

(My boyfriend, my friend, and I are out at a local pub for dinner and darts. I’m playing a game on my phone while they face off.)

Friend: “What are you playing?”

Me: “[Game]. It’s pretty fun.”

(A waitress, unbeknownst to us, is walking by at this moment.)

Friend: “You should try Diner Dash. I like it a lot.”

Me: “Noted.”

Waitress: *appearing suddenly* “So, would you folks like your bill?”

Boyfriend: “No, we just got here.”

Waitress: “Are you sure? I heard someone talk about dining and dashing.”

(We burst out laughing and filled her in on the conversation. My boyfriend and I go there frequently and now we are known as the “Dine-And-Dashers.” Joy.)

(I work in a pizza restaurant. A gentleman comes up to the register and places a to-go order.)

Me: “Your total is [amount less than $20].”

(He pulls out his wallet and digs through it for a moment before pulling out a bright orange card. I immediately recognize it as a card for store credit from a home improvement chain. The closest one is at least ten miles away.)

Customer: “So… will you accept a card from [Home Improvement Store]?”

Me: “Sorry, I wish I could. If it were a credit card, I could. Do you have another form of payment?”

(With a big sigh, he shoves the card back into his wallet, pulls out a bank card, and starts mumbling to himself.)

Customer: “It should work the same way. I just don’t get it. There’s [amount] on here. [Home Improvement Store] is ripping me off!”

(He hands me the card and I swipe it.)

Me: “Thank you, sir. Your food will be out in a few minutes.”

(I’ve had people try to pay with gift cards from other restaurants, with phones and watches, and even an IOU. But this was a first.)

(I work at a fast food restaurant. At one point, I take an order from a small group that clearly didn’t plan ahead and is figuring out what they want as they go along. Accordingly, I’m extra careful to confirm exactly what they’ll be getting before I ring them up. Later, I’m bagging another order when my boss waves me over. Someone from the group is standing at the counter with the receipt.)

Customer: “We are short a burger.”

Boss: “I’m sorry about that, ma’am. This is the young lady who took your order. Do you mind if we take a look at the slip?”

Customer: “Go ahead.”

Boss: “Okay, so, I see three [burgers], did you get those?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Boss: “And this combo, did you get that?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Boss: “And then this [sandwich], was that in there?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Boss: “So… how can I help you?”

Customer: “Well… we wanted one more burger.”

Boss: “Okay, would you like to buy one now?”

Customer: “No.”

Boss: “Okay. Well, sorry about that. Have a good day.”

(The customer leaves.)

Boss: *to me* “Did she just complain because she didn’t order what she wanted?”