Barista: “Okay, and which size would you like?”

Me: “Uh… the larger one, please.”

Barista: “Ugh, we don’t have a larger one, we only have small and medium. Why can’t anyone understand that?!”

Me: “…”

(I go to a popular chicken restaurant. This chain of restaurants has a card that gets you a free item every month. This particular month is labeled as a “mystery item,” while other months can have the free item printed on the card. Also, new cashiers have, “in training,” written under their names on their badges, and my cashier does not have this on her name tag.)

Me: “Hi. Do you know what the mystery offer is?”

Cashier: “It’s a free [Brand] fountain drink or bottled water, and a free waffle fry. Any size.”

(I’m not a fan of soda, but past experience tells me that tea is included with this deal.)

Me: “Great. I’ll have a large sweet tea and large fry.”

Cashier: “Tea isn’t included. It’s only the fountain drinks.”

Me: “What? When did that happen?”

Cashier: “It says right here, ‘fountain drinks.’ Tea is not a fountain drink.”

Me: “But I’ve gotten tea before when the offer was used in the past.”

Cashier: “Do you mean you’ve already used this month’s free offer? You can only do that once.”

Me: “No—” *glances at card* “—but in March, it had the same offer, and I got tea then.”

Cashier: “I don’t know what to tell you, because tea is not included.”

Me: *internally* “Don’t make me say the words. Don’t make me ask for a manager.” *out loud* “It should work.”

Cashier: *scoffs* “I’ll try it, but it’s not going to work.” *scans my card* “Oh, the tea came off. Huh. Would you like anything else?”

Me: “A sandwich with no pickle.”

(She didn’t even apologize for wasting my time over something that shouldn’t have even been an issue.)

(My dad and I go to a popular Canadian fast food chain for breakfast. I’m sick with the flu this morning, so I don’t want any food, but my dad asks me if I want anything to drink. Keep in mind that in Canada, asking for “iced tea” usually means you’ll get a kind of juice vaguely resembling cold tea and loaded with sugar, similar to sweet tea.)

Me: “Can you ask if they have unsweetened iced tea?”

Dad: *to the mic* “Do you have unsweetened iced tea?”

Cashier #1: “You want an iced tea? Lemon or green?”

Dad: “Is that unsweetened?”

Cashier #1: “Sorry?”

Dad: *exaggerated enunciation* “Unsweetened.”

Cashier #1: “I don’t understand.”

Dad: “Never mind.”

(He pulls forward to the window before the cashier can respond.)

Dad: *at the window, to a different worker* “What I was asking for was unsweetened iced tea.”

Cashier #2: “Sure! Lemon or green?”

Me: *suspicious because most brands don’t offer more than one flavor of unsweetened tea* “Is it unsweetened?”

Cashier #2: “Um… hold on let me go check.” *disappears for a few seconds and returns with this gem* “I think so. It says, ‘natural flavours.’ Which one would you like?”

Me: *internally face-palming* “Never mind. Thank you.”

(One winter’s day, I come home from classes and get in the residence tower’s elevator. Another student also gets in… wearing shorts and a t-shirt! Again, it’s winter. In Edmonton. There are snow and ice everywhere.)

Me: “Um… comfy?”

Student: *embarrassed but cheerful* “Uh, not really. So… somehow I got the weather report in Fahrenheit instead of Celsius without noticing it. I just saw the numbers this morning and thought, ‘Hey, it’s nice out,’ so…”

(Mid-twenties Celsius is a warm summer day. Mid-twenties Fahrenheit is below freezing.)

Me: “Oh.”

Student: “Then I got outside, but I didn’t have time to go back and change, so I’ve just spent all day like this.”

Me: “Oh, Jesus Christ. You must be frozen.”

Student: *still cheerful* “Yeah, and everyone’s like, ‘Wow! Look at that guy! He must be from Alaska!’ and it’s like, no, I’m just stupid.”

(He was so chipper and honest about it that if I’d been single, I’d have asked him out!)

This story is part of our Chilly Weather Roundup!

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(I am working late night overtime for inventory preparation after the store where I work closes. I volunteer to go on a food run to a nearby family-owned and -staffed burger restaurant that recently opened. None of the three of us working has been there but we’ve heard from others that their food is really good. The lobby has closed for the day but the drive-thru is still open, so I drive up to the order board and speaker. There are no other cars in the line, and no others pull into the drive-thru while I am there, so it is not busy.)

Cashier: “Please order when you’re ready.”

Me: “I have three orders that will be paid separately, please.”

Cashier: “But you are only one car.”

Me: “I’m ordering for three people, and each of us will be paying separately.”

Cashier: “I can’t do that! You’ll need to put it all on one order!”

Me: “So, can you put it in as if there are people ordering in three cars, like I was driving through three separate times?”

Cashier: “Oh, I guess I can do that.”

(I place the orders without incident and am given the totals for each, then pull forward to the window as instructed.)

Cashier: “Okay, the first order is [total].”

Me: *handing the cashier $20* “Okay, here’s the money for that order.”

(The cashier takes the money, puts in the till but doesn’t give me any change.)

Cashier: “Now, the second order is [total].”

Me: “You didn’t give me the change for the first order.”

Cashier: “Oh, I am going to pay for the second order with that.”

Me: “No, I have separate money for the second and third orders. I’ll need the change for the first, and the receipt, please.”

Cashier: “You said there were three of you, but I count only one person in the car. One. Only you. You gave me more than enough money to cover the second. I’m using that money, and I didn’t print a receipt. Okay, the second order is paid for. Now, for the third order, I’ll need you to pay some more. The total is [total], and the remaining amount is only [amount].”

Me: “Wait! I asked to pay each of these orders separately; I am buying food for myself and two other people, who are at my work waiting for their food! Please give me back the change for the first and I’ll give you money for the second. Then I’ll take care of the third order.”

Cashier: “But you already gave me too much money for the first order, and I’ve already used money from that for the second order. Now you only owe [amount] more.”

Me: *giving up, just trying to get the food to get back to work* “Okay, fine.” *hands her another $20.00*

Cashier: “Don’t you have anything smaller?”

Me: “I’ll need to make change for the other two people. Please just give me the change and the food.”

Cashier: “Fine, but you don’t have to be so snippy about it!”

(I jotted down the totals for each order on a napkin so we could figure out the change when I got back to the store, took the change and the food — which I carefully checked for accuracy — and left. It would probably HAVE been easier to have actually driven through and ordered three separate times. The food was really good, and the cashier was good with her math skills, because the final change was spot on, but not so much her understanding of “three separate orders.” The next week the restaurant was advertising to hire a cashier to work the late shift.)