(I’m working at a sandwich shop when a customer comes through our drive-thru. The coworker at the window calls out the order, and another coworker and I make the sandwich. Our sandwiches are ordered by number. We make a fourteen. As it’s handed out the window, I say:)

Me: “Enjoy your fourteen!”

(The customer pulls away and the window coworker says:)

Coworker: “Oh, no! That was supposed to be a thirteen [vegetarian sandwich]!”

(I try to flag the customer down, but he is gone. A minute later, the customer pulls up to the window honking his horn repeatedly. I lean out the window.)

Me: “Sorry about that, sir; we just realized our mistake. We’ll replace that for you and give you a free bag of chips.”

Customer: “I don’t eat meat, man. I don’t want any f****** chips. I want a refund and two free sandwiches.”

Me: “Let me get my manager, please.”

(The manager comes up and the customer starts yelling:)

Customer: “If I had taken a f****** bite of this, I’d have spit it back in your face. I’m disgusted and offended that you’d even serve this to me!”

Manager: “Sorry about that, sir. It was a simple mistake. I’ve refunded you for your sandwich, and here are those two vegetarian sandwiches. I’ve also thrown in a free bag of chips and a cookie.”

(We took the other sandwich and it hadn’t even had a bite taken out of it. Later, we received a call that we’d gotten a corporate customer complaint over a simple misheard number and two free sandwiches. Just because you’re offended doesn’t mean you have the right to ruin other people’s days.)

(My husband and I are customers in this story.)

Cashier: “Crisps or cookie with your sandwich?”

Me: “A white chocolate and macadamia cookie, please.”

Cashier: “Okay, but just to make sure, you are aware that it has nuts right?”

Husband: “Yes? How many people don’t know that the cookie with macadamia nuts in it contains nuts?”

Cashier: “You’d be surprised.”

(I work at a sandwich shop that’s on the way to a national park. We get some pretty interesting orders and we have some good laughs, but this one takes the cake.)

Customer: “Hello, I would like a veggie delight.”

Me: “Okay, would you like any cheese on that?”

Customer: “Yes, pepperjack, please.”

Me: “And would you like that toasted?”

Customer: “No, thank you.”

Me: “Okay, let’s move on to the veggies.”

Customer: “Oh, I wanted turkey on that.”

Me: “So, would you like a turkey sandwich, instead?”

Customer: “No, I want a veggie delight.”

Me: “Sir, if you order a turkey sandwich, it comes with veggies. If you order a veggie delight and add turkey, I will have to charge you extra.”

Customer: “Okay.”

Me: “So, would you like me to make it a turkey sandwich?”

Customer: “No, I want a ham.”

(My coworkers were dying in the backroom. We had never had anyone change their sandwich three times within one order.)

(I work at a restaurant, and all of a sudden, for about three months, one of my coworkers is off the schedule. He apparently has some medical issue, and isn’t able to work. Fast forward and he’s back at work. Everyone asks what happened, but it’s very obvious he does not want to talk about it, so we let him know we’re here if he needs us, and move on. A few weeks later, a young woman comes in wearing scrubs for a well-known drug and alcohol rehab facility. She immediately greets him by name and asks how he’s doing, before dropping this gem:)

Young Woman: “I haven’t seen you since you stayed with us at [Rehab]! Are you doing better?”

(He was embarrassed at the question and mumbled something before disappearing. I later found out — from him — that he admitted himself for alcoholism, and was, in fact, doing much better. But I couldn’t believe she did that. Even if she wasn’t working at a rehab facility, that would still be a HIPAA violation.)

(I am at a chain choose-your-own sub shop where you have the option of putting your sandwich in the toaster. I don’t like toasted bread.)

Sandwich Maker: “Toasted?”

Me: “No.”

(He proceeds to put the sandwich in the toaster, anyway. It’s the lunch-rush, and I’m not one to make a big deal out of something so ultimately trivial, so I just shrug it off.)

Sandwich Maker: *to woman behind me* “Toasted?”

Woman: “No.”

(He also puts that sandwich in the toaster. The woman and I share a look and a shrug, but it’s the lunch rush and we don’t want to make a hold-up. The next time I’m at the sandwich shop, it’s the same sandwich maker, and again, he asks me if I want my sandwich toasted. I tell him. He toasts it, anyway. Fast forward to yet the next time I’m at this sandwich shop.)

Sandwich Maker: “What would you like?”

Me: “I’d like a [sandwich] on [bread] with [cheese], and not toasted!“

(He makes the sandwich beginning.)

Sandwich Maker: “Toasted?”

Me: “No, I don’t want it toasted.”

(He moves towards the toaster.)

Me: *very loudly and firmly* “I said not toasted!”

(He turns around and looks at me like I’ve just flipped out for no reason.)

Sandwich Maker: “You could have just said.”