(I am filling boxes for to-go orders. An order comes back without a name, so my boss gives me permission to write ‘Dr. Who’ on the box.)

Boss: “We’ve got a to-go!”

Me: “Sorry guys, I don’t have enough information on these grilled cheese sandwiches. And there’s not a name or phone number.”

Boss: “Oh, shoot.”

Me: “Should we wait until they get here?”

Boss: “We’ll just give them cheddar. If they don’t want them, we’ll make them new ones.”

(I write up the boxes with ‘Dr. Who’ and make the order. I see a young man picking up the no-name order. The following week…)

Waitress: “We’ve got an order from Doctor Who!”

Me: “Wait, really?”

Waitress: “Yep. He told me on the phone that he liked what we did with the boxes.”

(I check the ticket. It’s the same thing the young man ordered last week, with ‘Dr. Who’ written in the name spot. Looks like one of our regulars has a new nickname!)

Me: “I would like a five-piece chicken tenders, a chicken sandwich, and a double cheeseburger with just pickles.”

(Note: I should have ordered “chicken strips”, because at this restaurant, “chicken tenders” refer to what most other restaurants call nuggets.)

Server: “We only have a four-piece for tenders.”

Me:  “Oh, sorry. I meant a five-piece strips.”

Server: “Make up your mind! Do you want strips or tenders?!”

Me: “I just said that I wanted the strips. Sorry again; I was a little confused when I first ordered.”

Server: “So you want a five-piece strips, a chicken sandwich, and a hamburger plain.”

Me:  “Double cheeseburger with just pickles.”

Server: *condescendingly* “Sure… the customer is ALWAYS right.”

(When I got back to my co-workers, I discovered that I was 1) given a double cheeseburger with everything but pickles, 2) there were only three chicken strips and 3) the chicken sandwich was missing completely.)

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(I’ve been working for only two weeks at a fast food restaurant, so I’m still a bit slow on the register and getting orders out.)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [restaurant]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Hey, I’d like a [fairly complex meal with add-ons.]”

(I enter the order into the register, but just to check I’ve got it right, I begin to read it back to her. She nods as I list each add-on.)

Customer: “Yep, that sounds about—”

(Just then, my manager walks up and leans right in between the customer and me.)

Manager: “[My name], you need to get these orders out faster!” *to the customer* “I’m sorry; what was it that you wanted?”

(The customer repeats the order, which I’ve gotten down correctly. My manager then nods and then shouts the order back to the kitchen. He then turns back to me.)

Manager: “Always call right away! Corrections later.”

(He walks off. The customer gives me a sympathetic look.)

Customer: “I used to work in hospitality and I had a manager just like that.”

Me: “What, a bit loud?”

Customer: “No, a d***head. You’re doing fine.”

(I’m a chef at a Filipino restaurant. My boyfriend, his friend, and my sister, are also on duty with me. A customer in his late 20s comes in.)

Me: “Hello, sir! How are you today?”

Customer: “Hey, babe. Are you free tonight?”

Me: “Do you have something you want to order?”

(The customer gets angry.)

Customer: “Look, I just asked you if you had any plans tonight! Yes or no?!”

Me:“Sir, I have a boyfriend. If you don’t want to order anything, please leave.”

Man: “Ha! What are you gonna do? Huh! Your little boyfriend ain’t gonna do anything to me!”

Me: “Hannibal! B.A.! Face!”

(My boyfriend, his friend, and my sister start walking towards the man.)

Boyfriend: “B.A.? Will you please escort this man out of the premises?”

(My friend walks towards the customer, cracking his knuckles. The customer runs out of the restaurant.)

Boyfriend: “I love it when a plan comes together!”

Sister: “Shut up…”

(I am visiting a fast food restaurant near my job. I’m there several times a week for lunch or dinner, and on this day there’s a new employee.)

Me: “I’d like the new [new sandwich that is being heavily advertised and is displayed on a huge banner behind the counter] with a Coke to go, please.”

Employee: “What the f*** is that?”

Me: “The [new sandwich]… it’s on the banner behind you.”

Employee: “Ain’t nobody told me about a new sandwich.”

(Eventually, with the help of a coworker, she rings me up. I wait a while for my food, and it doesn’t seem to be coming. I’m the only one in the restaurant, so clearly something has gone wrong.)

Me: “Hey, can you check and see if they forgot about my order in the back? I’ve been waiting a while.”

Employee: “I’m not in charge of making the food.”

Me: “Well, yeah, but can you just walk over there and ask them if they’re working on my order? I only have a short lunch.”

(The employee stares at me like I’ve asked her to go to the moon.)

Employee: “I just said, I’m not in charge of the food.”

Me: “All I’m asking is for you to walk over there, or just shout over, and see if they’ve forgotten about my order.”

Employee: “I don’t know anything about the food.”

(I decide to lean over the counter and shout back myself. They had indeed forgotten my food, so they quickly make it, bring it out, and apologize profusely. Thankfully, I never saw that employee again.)