You Say Potato, I Say Disgusting

, , , , , , | Working | May 17, 2018

(I can’t eat gluten, which makes eating at restaurants a pain. I normally just make my own meals, but my mother-in-law wants to take me out to lunch, so I find a nearby restaurant with gluten-free options. We sit down, I ask for the gluten-free menu, and we both order. Our meals arrive, including dishes of baked apples. The service hasn’t been great, and my mother-in-law is already looking for a fight when I start to eat my baked apples and see something pale and mushy floating in the cinnamon sauce.)

Me: “Um… What is this?”

Mother-In-Law: “Let me see.” *fishes around in the bowl with a fork and grimaces* “That’s hash brown casserole. They must have reused the spoon. Does the casserole have gluten? Are you going to be okay?”

Me: “I’m not sure; I only checked things I was going to order—”

(My mother-in-law has already run off to get a manager. She returns with the manager and they’re arguing.)

Manager: *holds up the gluten-free menu and points* “It clearly states right here that we can’t take responsibility for allergies. It’s a shared kitchen, and we can’t guarantee anything. Your health is not our responsibility ,and if you can’t accept that, then you shouldn’t be eating out at all!”

(He is nearly shouting and my mother-in-law looks ready to explode. Finally, I manage to interrupt.)

Me: “What if I didn’t have an allergy?”

Manager: “What?”

Me: “What if I we’re just a regular customer who thought it was sort of disgusting that you’re using dirty spoons in the kitchen and leaving old potato in my dessert?”

Manager: “Oh… I… I’ll go talk to the kitchen.”

(He came out a few minutes later and said that he couldn’t comp my meal, but would remake my food free of charge. I politely declined. I have no interest in eating anything that comes out of that kitchen, ever again.)

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, , , , | Right | May 16, 2018

I work at a computer repair shop. We also fix cracked phone, tablet, and even e-reader screens.

This woman comes in with a e-reader that has a cracked screen. I take it out of the case to get the model number off the back, and I notice it’s got some crusty, nasty food stuck on the corner. The whole corner is covered in who knows what. I am disgusted, but little do I know, this is about to go to a whole other level of disgusting.

As soon as I get the model number and set the e-reader down to type it in to our computer, the lady picks up the e-reader, says, “Oh, I must have spilled something or other on it,” and licks it off! She then hands me back the e-reader, covered in food and her spit.

I nearly throw up right there!

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We Decline Your Solution

, , , , | Right | May 15, 2018

A customer comes to the counter, bottles in hand, and gives me his card to run. It is declined. I give it another shot. Declined again.

He snatches the card back from me, looks at it, licks it with gusto, and attempts to hand it back to me.

I decline, and he cannot figure out why I won’t touch it again.

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Nail Fail

, , | Right | May 15, 2018

(While I’m shopping, I overhear the following exchange between a customer and one of the employees manning the till.)

Employee: “Excuse me, sir, what are you doing with that nail clipper? Are you actually clipping your nails?”

Customer: “Yes. I have to test if it works, right?”

Employee: “That is not very hygienic, sir. I’m afraid you’ll need to buy it now. I can’t sell it to other people like this.”

Customer: “But… I just needed to test it out. All right, how much is it?”

Employee: “It’s [amount], sir.”

(The customer paid for the clippers and walked away. As they left the shop, I heard his wife saying to him, “I don’t understand why you wanted another one. You have dozens of those things at home.”)

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Number Two Over By Number Seven

, , , , | Right | May 14, 2018

(I work night shifts at a service station. When a customer picks up a fuel hose to fuel up their car, it sets off an alarm inside that alerts the station attendant that the pump needs to be authorized. Fuel won’t pour until they do so, and the alarm won’t stop until it is either authorized or hung up. Unfortunately, a system error crashes one of the pumps with the alarm still going, so the entire pump has been turned off to shut it up until it can be fixed. Each nozzle on the pump has been covered with a bright orange out-of-order sign that must be removed before it can be used. I am in the cold room of the store stocking shelves when I hear thumping sounds and swearing, so I return to the front in time to see a man seemingly standing up from beside the non-functioning pump. There is no car, but I see he has a fuel can.)

Me: *over PA system* “Sorry, customer on pump seven! That one is currently out of order. I’ll just get you to move over to six and you’ll be all set.”

(The customer storms over to the night window, swearing loudly the whole while.)

Customer: “Oh, and you couldn’t d*** well tell me that ten minutes ago, you useless f****** w****r? What the f*** were you doing?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir.” *I explain the error, the pump alarm, etc.* “So, when you attempted to fill up, it wasn’t able to notify me, and since you walked in, I didn’t hear a car entering. Again, I’m extremely sorry about the wait. If you want to head over to one of the other pumps, I can get that started for you right away, and I can grab you a coffee card or free drink as an apology.”

Customer: *slightly mollified* “Well, you still should have had some kind of d*** sign out so tha—” *he gestures angrily at the pump, pausing as he notices the fluorescent orange hose-covers* “Huh.”

(He pauses for a moment, then turns back to me, looking absolutely mortified.)

Customer: “Look, I’m really sorry I went off like that. I messed up, and you’ve treated me a lot politer than I deserved. Don’t worry about fuel or a freebie. I’ll just go. Uh… Who… cleans out by the pumps and that here, by the way?”

Me: “The night staff do it, so that’ll be me just before I finish this morning. Why?”

Customer: “Oh, uh… Um, here.” *he shoves a $10 note into the cash slot and leaves hurriedly*

(Some time later:)

Another Customer: “Jesus, did somebody take a s*** over beside pump seven?”

(Sadly, the answer was yes.)

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