(I have just started my first food-service job ever at a well known smoothie chain. It is my first closing shift, and I’m working alone with one of the night supervisors. We close at 9:30 pm, and I have been told the closing staff usually leaves around 10:30 pm.)

Night Supervisor: “Okay, I’m going to go in back and count down the tills. You get started on the closing list, and I’ll be out in a while.”

Me: “Okay. This is my first closing shift though…”

Night Supervisor: “You’ll be fine.”

(I get to work like he says, but I am unfamiliar with the tasks, so it takes me a while. I am still working on the list when he finally comes out at 10:30 pm.)

Night Supervisor: “Whoa, what’s going on? We’re way behind.”

Me: “Sorry, but I don’t really know the jobs yet.”

Night Supervisor: “This isn’t good. Let’s hurry and get done.”

(By the time we finish the list, it’s 11 pm. The supervisor approaches me with the sign-in sheet.)

Night Supervisor: “We can’t let them know how late we were here. We have to be out by 10:30 pm at the latest, or we’ll both be in big trouble.”

Me: “What do we do?”

Night Supervisor: “Just mark yourself down as 10:30 pm; it’ll be fine.”

(I’m a little upset by this, but naive enough that I go along with it. A few weeks later, I’m joking with one of the supervisors on the day shift.)

Me: “Yeah, I’m pretty slow at the closing stuff. [Night Supervisor] and I ended up staying until 11 pm the first time I did it, and had to lose the half hour of work so we wouldn’t get in trouble.”

Day Supervisor: “What? You’re not responsible for that. It’s [Night Supervisor]’s job to make sure things get done on time. You wouldn’t have been in trouble at all.”

Me: “Really?”

Day Supervisor: “Yeah, don’t listen to a thing he says about that. He’s the slowest closer anyway.”

(That was the last time I let someone talk me into working for free!)

(I’m working at a restaurant that sells fried chicken. A customer approaches me after she has eaten her entire meal. The tray she’s carrying only has picked-clean chicken bones on it.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I ordered the white meat chicken meal, but got dark meat pieces instead. You need to give me a new meal.”

Me: “I’m sorry for the confusion, but the white meat chicken meal comes with a breast and wing, which is what you received.”

Customer: “No, you gave me a leg and a thigh. I paid extra for the white meat meal and I demand that you give me a replacement!”

Me: “Again, I’m sorry for the confusion, but as you can see by the chicken bones on your tray, this piece was a breast piece. See the rib bones here, and this piece was a wing.”

Customer: “Get me your manager NOW!”

(My manager has heard the interchange and cordially comes over.)

Manager: “I’m terribly sorry for the mistake, ma’am; here’s a replacement meal for you.”

(My manager hands her another white meat meal.)

Customer: “It’s about time!”

(After the customer leaves, having left the tray with the chicken bones on it, I turn to my manager.)

Me: “Why did she get a free replacement meal when it’s obvious that she got and completely ate what she ordered?”

Manager: *smiling sadly* “The customer always thinks they’re right, even when they’re wrong. And especially when all they want is to throw a fit for free food. I’ve learned it’s easier to just give them what they want than to try to convince them to be decent people.”

Me: “The customer is always right?”

Manager: “Even when they’re wrong!”

(It’s a busy day, and my coworker calls in to say she will be unable to come in for her shift. This is the third time in two weeks she’s dropped a shift.)

Coworker: “I locked my keys in my car, and have no other way of getting to work, so I can’t come in today.”

Manager: “Did you call AMA?”

Coworker: “Yeah. They said they can’t come out today because my small town is too far. I called a towing company too, but I can’t afford their rates.”

Manager: “Huh. That’s weird. I guess I’ll start trying to find someone to cover your shift.”

(Instead of trying to get the shift covered, my manager calls AMA to confirm that they won’t come to my coworker’s town. It turns out they have a service centre located there, and would be willing to go unlock my coworker’s car. My manager calls the coworker back.)

Manager: “Hi. So I called AMA, and it turns out they’re located in your town. So they can come get your keys out of your car. Maybe I talked to a different person than you did. Anyways, I can call them back and have them come to you; I just need your address.”

Coworker: “I’m not comfortable giving you my address.”

Manager: “Okay… well, have the towing company come then. You can have them forward the bill to me, and I’ll pay it. I really need you at work right now because it’s busy.”

Coworker: “I’m not comfortable with you paying for that.”

Manager: “Well, then I’ll charge it to our store. They’d be okay with helping you get to work. We need you here.”

Coworker: “I’m not comfortable with that either.”

Manager: “Do you have anybody that could give you a ride in?”

Coworker: “No.”

Manager: “What if I call you a cab? I’ll pay for it now, and you can pay me back later.”

Coworker: “You’re being really pushy! I’m not comfortable with any of this!”

Manager: “I just offered you multiple suggestions for getting to work, all at no cost to you. At our store, employees do everything in their power to show up for shifts because it’s not fair to the other people working when you don’t. Now somebody will have to work overtime to cover your a**. I’m not going to ‘push’ you any further on this, but if you ditch another shift this month, you’re fired.”

(The coworker continued not coming in for her shifts, but quit before the manager had a chance to fire her.)

(I usually work day shift, but my manager has asked me to work an evening shift to cover a staff absence. A coworker is getting cooked chicken strips out of the fryer to serve a customer, and he drops one on the floor. He throws it back into the fryer.)

Me: “Hey [Coworker], what are you doing?”

Coworker: “Freshening up the chicken.”

Me: “What? You’re not going to serve that, are you?”

Coworker: “Yup, it’s fine; you just need to fry it a bit.”

Me: “No you don’t! You need to throw it out and cook a new one!”

Coworker: “[Manager] said this was fine! The hot oil kills germs.”

Me: “No way!”

(I make him re-cook the order, and go find the manager and explain what happened.)

Manager: “[Coworker], what the h***! You do NOT serve food that’s been on the floor!”

Coworker: “You said that we didn’t have to follow hygiene for fried food; you said the hot oil kills germs. That’s what you told me.”

Manager: “I said you don’t need to wear gloves to handle frozen food that’s going in the fryer as long as you have washed your hands. What made you think it was okay to serve food that’s been on the floor?”

Coworker: “What’s the difference?”

Manager: “In the back. Now.”

(The scary thing? I’d eaten there in the evenings because I knew we had really good kitchen hygiene. At least, the day shift did…)

(I’m about seven years old. My parents and I are at a restaurant. The waitress comes to take our order, starting with my mother.)

Waitress: “What you would you like, ma’am?”

Mom: “Steak, please.”

Waitress: “And how would you like that prepared?”

Mom: “Medium rare.”

Waitress: “Sir, what would you like?”

Dad: “Steak for me, too.”

Waitress: “How would you like it?”

Dad: “Well done, please.”

Waitress: “Young lady, what would like?”

Me: “A hamburger.”

Waitress: “And how do you want it?”

Me: “On a bun.”