(I am an employee at a burger place.)
Customer: “Hi, do you have any vegan beef patties?”
Me: “Well, we offer a veggie burger and a tofu burger.”
Customer: “No, I want beef.”
Me: “Yes, we have beef patties…”
Customer: “Okay, but do you have vegan beef patties?”
Me: “No…”
Customer: “Ugh, why is it so hard to find?!”
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(I am at an Easter brunch with my family. Our waiter is a Hispanic man who introduces himself as David. A few minutes later, this happens:)
Uncle: “Okay, José, we’re ready to order!”
Mother: “I thought he said his name was David.”
Uncle: “Oh, they all just give out American names so people won’t be racist. He knows who I mean.”
David: “Well, my name is actually David, but what can I get you?”
Uncle: “Sure it is!” *winks*
(When David brings the food.)
Uncle: “Thanks, José!”
Me: *cringing* “His name is David.”
Uncle: “He doesn’t mind, right, José?”
David: *mostly to me and my mother* “It’s fine.”
(After the meal, I went back and left an extra $20 as a tip. Wherever you are, David, I’m sorry that my uncle is a racist jerk.)
(I was out with my family at dinner and I really wanted lemonade. My mom had the pitcher of lemonade.)
Me: “Mom, can you pass the lemonade?”
Mom: “Slow down with the lemonade! It’s almost gone.”
Me: “Do you know what else is almost gone? My patience! Please pass the lemonade.”
(I got grounded. But it was worth it.)
(My colleague and I have stopped at [Popular Fast Food Chain] for a meal on our way home. We are both vegetarian.)
Colleague: “I’d like a veggie burger meal, please.”
Staff Member: “I’m sorry we’ve run out of veggie burgers.”
Colleague: “Okay, what else do you have that’s vegetarian?”
Staff Member: “We’ve got chicken burgers.”
Colleague: “…”
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(I am at a fairly pricey steakhouse. I’ve ordered way too much food, and it is too good to throw out, so…)
Waitress: “Would you like some dessert this evening?”
Me: “No, thank you, but could I have my leftover steak and baked potato boxed up, please?”
Waitress: “Sure!”
(She disappears for 15 minutes. When she re-appears and sees us waiting, she does a double-take.)
Waitress: “…Is there anything else?”
Me: “Um, my leftovers?”
Waitress: “OH!”
(She gets a deer-in-the-headlights look, vanishes again, and then reappears with a box containing just my steak; no potato.)
Waitress: “Here you go! Sorry about that!”
(I was rather afraid that she’d thrown out my food and retrieved the steak from the garbage – but, like I said, it was too good to throw out. I ate it anyway. Didn’t die.)
