Customer: “I want your Philly Cheesesteak, hold the cheese.”

Me: “So, just the beef?”

Customer: “No, I want your Philly Cheesesteak, but without cheese.”

Me: “That’s like saying you want a cheeseburger without cheese. It would just be a burger.”

Customer: “I don’t want a burger!”

Me: “No… that’s… never mind. So, a Philly Cheesesteak without cheese?”

Customer: “Finally, he’s listening!”

Me: “Okay, what bread, and any sides or veggies?”

Customer: “I’ll take the hoagie, and add some tomatoes, and… oooh… what’s that yellow stuff?”

Me: “That’s the melted cheese.”

Customer: “Ooh, that looks good. Add some of that!”

Related:
Seriously Cheesed Off, Part 5
Seriously Cheesed Off, Part 4
Seriously Cheesed Off, Part 3
Seriously Cheesed Off, Part 2
Seriously Cheesed Off

CONTENT WARNING: Graphic Imagery

Customer: “BLT on white bread.”

Me: “BLT on white bread. Would you like any onions or pickles?”

Customer: “I would rather apply sandpaper to my eyeballs.” 

Me: “So, that’s a no on onions and pickles, then…”

A nice (or so I thought) little old Russian woman who didn’t speak English very well came in one slow evening and ordered a foot-long tuna sandwich. I scooped the four scoops of tuna onto the bread, and that just set her off.

Customer: “More tuna! More!”

I knew this was going to be an ordeal, so I put a couple more scoops on. She still wasn’t happy. Before we got to the veggies, there were eight heaping scoops of tuna on that thing. Of course, she LOADED it with veggies.

Then, we got to the cash register.

Me: “That’s $6.70.”

I thought she was going to faint.

Customer: “I not pay that!”

I gave her the senior discount: 5%. Still not happy.

I gave her another discount: 10%. Still not happy.

I pushed for a related coupon discount just to get her out of the store: 25%

She straightened up, started swearing at me in Russian, told me what she thought of me and my place of business, and stormed out the door. 

Guess who had a hefty tuna sub on their lunch break?

We have some fresh baguettes coming out of the giant oven in the back. A customer I am helping sees this and looks amazed.

Customer: “Do you have a giant microwave to bake the bread?”

It takes me a moment to compose an explanation, but that’s a moment too long because she’s asking the next question:

Customer: “Ooh, is it a walk-in microwave?”

Made my day.

Back in the late 1980s, I worked in, um, not the best part of town. People would try to pay with checks that would bounce and stolen cards, so the owner put up a sign.

Sign: “IN GOD WE TRUST — ALL OTHERS PAY CASH.”

And he meant it; the only payment type we would take was cash. 

One day, I’m making the sandwiches and the owner is running the register. A guy comes in and sees the sign.

Customer: “Does that mean you trust me?”

He showed us his ID, and yes, his parents actually had named him “God”. 

He paid with cash.