(I’m a waitress at a fairly well-known restaurant chain that does lunch combos on weekdays. I am serving two little old ladies and trying to explain the combos to them.)

Me: *pointing to column A on the menu with both women looking at it* “If you get two items from this column, it’s $6.99.” *pointing to column B* “Two from here would be $8.99.” *pointing to both columns* “If you get one from each side then it’s $7.99.”

Old Lady #1: “Okay. I see.”

Me: “Do you need a little more time to decide?”

Old Ladies: “Yes, please.”

(I leave and return a couple of minutes later.)

Me: “Did I give you enough time?”

Old Lady #2: “I suppose we’ll both have the shrimp linguine.”

Me: “Okay, and what would you like with it?”

Old Lady #2: “Oh, what comes with it?”

(Our local takeaway sells a chicken roll and for a while had a special menu item of a bacon, chicken, and cheese roll — basically, the same thing as the chicken roll but with bacon and cheese. Some locations have it on the menu, while some don’t but still sell it. I go into one location where it’s not on the menu but decide to try my luck anyway. They make rolls and burgers to order.)

Me: “Hi, can I have a bacon, cheese, and chicken roll, please?”

Cashier: “We no longer sell that. If it’s not on the menu, we don’t sell it, and it’s not on the menu. See?” *motions to menu and rolls eyes at colleague as if I am the dumbest person to ever walk into their store*

Me: “Oh, okay. Can I have a custom order chicken roll with added bacon and cheese, then?”

Cashier: “Sure!”

(I am working in a roadside restaurant and am fairly new to the job. One slow morning there is just the boss, a coworker, and me on duty. The coworker, who is cooking, goes on his break, and since I can not yet cook the boss takes over cooking the breakfasts while I take orders and serve drinks. I go up to a couple at a table.)

Me: “Hello, what can I get for you?”

Man: *in a Scottish accent* “Two coffees. And two pork steaks on toast, please.”

Me: “Er… right.”

(At the cook’s area I write down the order.)

Boss: *astonished* “Two pork steaks on toast?”

Me: “Yes, that’s what they want.”

Boss: “But are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, I’m sure. That’s what he asked for.”

(She asked me several more times if I was absolutely sure, which I was. So she put two pork steaks into the fryer, later a couple of slices of bread into the toaster, and ten minutes later I was taking the order out to the table. My boss watched me. Her face as she saw the altercation at the table, followed by the sight of me returning with the two plates, was a picture.)

Boss: “I asked if you were sure. You said you were. What did they really want?”

Me: “I misheard. It was the Scottish accent. They want two poached eggs on toast.”

(A group of friends and I are out to dinner at a buffet before we see a movie. One friend has stepped away to refill her plate, while the other is telling me a story.)

Friend #1: “So, I shove the whole croissant into my mouth without using my hands, and swallow it basically whole.”

Friend #2: *as she walks back over* “Wait, what?”

Me: *as matter-of-factly and with as straight a face as I can* “[Friend #1] deep-throated a croissant.”

Me: “Hi! What can I get you to drink?”

Customer: “I’d like some wine.”

Me: “Okay… I need a little more info than that. Do you want white or red wine, or rose?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “White, red, or rose?”

Customer: “Oh! White.”

Me: “All right, sweet or dry?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “…Sweet white wine or dry white wine?”

Customer: “Oh… hmm… I’ll have a dry white wine.”

Me: “Sure, would you like Chardonnay or Sauvignon Blanc?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: *sighs*

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