(My mother-in-law and I go grocery shopping on the fourth Wednesday of the month because that’s when we get our social security checks. After shopping, we go out to lunch. We’re at the restaurant, finishing up lunch, and our waitress has just brought us the check.)

Me: “She’s really nice. We’ve had her before.”

Mother-In-Law: “Yes, she is.”

Me: “I wonder how old she is? Maybe my age?” *pauses* “Nah, I don’t think she’s that old.”

Mother-In-Law: *looks at me with a funny smile on her face*

Me: “Did I really just say that?”

Mother-In-Law: “Yep, you did.”

(At least I was able to laugh at myself over it. For the record, I’m 46. I don’t really consider that old.)

(I am working as a waitress at a restaurant when a woman comes in. My boss pulls me to the side and tells me that if I help the woman, to write down everything that she wants as she is a notoriously picky eater. I take the woman’s drink order and begin clearing off the table next to her while I wait for her to decide what she’d like to eat. As I am cleaning, she looks over at me.)

Customer: “Is your last name Hitchcock?”

Me: *confused* “No, ma’am, my last name is [My Last Name].”

(The customer then proceeds to tell me in detail how I look exactly like Alfred Hitchcock’s daughter, from the shape of my face to the way I smile. I nod and play along, but am trying so hard not to laugh that it hurts. Every time I go near her table, the woman marvels that I look just like Alfred Hitchcock’s daughter. When she’s getting ready to leave, the customer comes up to me.)

Customer: “You know, you should really submit your picture to [some organization that apparently takes pictures of people who look like celebrities]. Just make sure that the picture shows from here to here–” *she gestures from the top of my head to about my navel* “–and shows the contours of your arms. Oh, and make sure to take one with your glasses and without your glasses.”

(I assured her that I would, though I had absolutely no intention of doing so. Satisfied, the woman finally left. Later, I looked up a picture of Pat Hitchcock. I look absolutely nothing like her.)

[As I tell this story most will know what restaurant I work for, however I’m still not naming the place, I’ve also started somewhat recently and am 16, so I’m not taken very seriously] Me: Hello! Welcome to ___
Customer: doesn’t hear me and proceeds to grope her husband in front of the bakery display
(I wait, highly uncomfortable)
Customer turns around and is embarrassed, switches to hold her husband’s hand. Now, we were out of bread bowls, just some foresight. These customers proceed to argue with each other about every detail of the order, the wife clearly in charge of the relationship.
Customer: “I’ll have a broccoli cheddar”
Me: “Will that be in a cup or a bowl?”
(didn’t offer bread bowl knowing we were out)
Customer:”the to go order doesn’t come in a bread bowl right?”
(clearly seeming not to want a bread bowl given how slow she said that to me, as if I couldn’t possibly understand the question)
Me: “No it doesn’t, we also are currently out of bread bowls”
Minutes later my manager comes up to me upset, and I explain the situation, he, known as an asshole, doesn’t care and gives me a long talk about reading back orders, he also gives me a hard time the rest of the night. I catch the customer giving me an evil eye, as I write this I realize this isn’t a ‘not always right’ but at least she didn’t get a bread bowl!

(Our town has a school for the deaf, so we get a lot of deaf customers in the store. I don’t know sign language. This evening we get a regular deaf customer but this is my first experience with him. He makes it clear to me that he’s deaf, so I start to try and take his order by pantomiming what I’m asking for. I ask him what he would like to drink, and he then proceeds to point at the word “tea” on the menu. We have sweet or unsweet tea. I proceed to ask him whether he wants sweet or unsweet, but he keeps pointing at the word “tea.” I decide to get him a sweet tea because that’s the most popular among our guests. When I deliver his drink, he takes a big gulp and starts making a disgusted grunting sound, and continues to point at the word “Tea.” I decide to bring out an unsweet tea and he seemed happy about it. His drink order took about a half an hour. For ordering his food, he points at the word “hamburger steak”, which is basically a hamburger patty with nothing on it. I proceed to try and ask him how he wants it cooked, but he just doesn’t understand what I’m saying. One of my coworkers, who is legally deaf, decides to try and help me take his order by signing to him. She proceeds to try and take his order for about ten minutes: she’s finally successful.)

Coworker: “He wants a hamburger steak, medium rare, with a side of greens and mashed potatoes.”

Me: “Why did that take so long?”

Coworker: “This guy seems like he knows sign language, but everything he signed to me was just gibberish.”

(After I delivered his food to him, he was pretty self-sufficient. The only downside was that he nursed his drink and his food and sat at that table for almost five hours total.)

(I’m hard of hearing, and there is always a lot of noise in the restaurant where I work. Because of my condition, I usually work on the line preparing food, but today we are short cashiers and so I get pulled up to the cash register area.)

Me: “Hi! How’s it going? What can I get for you today?”

Customer: “I’d like [soup and sandwich combo] with a drink.”

Me: “For here or to go?”

Customer: “For here.”

Me: “Okay, and I need a name to put it under.”

Customer: “Janet.”

(As she is saying her name, the timer on the oven begins going off behind me and I don’t hear her clearly.)

Me: “The name is Heidi?”

Customer: *laughing* “How the h*** do you get Heidi from Janet?”

Me: “Do you have any daughters?”

(The customer had a good laugh, at least.)