Who’s The Real Baby Here?

, , , | Right | CREDIT: TheMidwestD**e | June 16, 2021

I work at a local sub shop in my town. We have single-stall bathrooms — the kind where you walk in and the toilet and sink are next to each other and you have to lock the door behind yourself. We have baby changing tables in both the women’s and men’s bathrooms because single fathers exist.

A customer orders his sandwich and heads into the bathroom. A moment later, he storms out of the bathroom and snaps his fingers at me.

Customer: “Hey, kid!”

Me: “Yes, sir?”

Customer: “Why is there one of them women’s things in the men’s bathroom?”

I have no clue what he’s talking about.

Me: “Pardon me?”

Customer: “One of them girly tables for the babies — you have one in the man bathroom!”

Me: “Oh, the changing table? Yes, sir, we have one in both bathrooms.”

He huffs and puts his hands on his hips in an exaggerated fashion.

Customer: “Well, why is that?”

Me: “So that men can change their babies’ diapers if they need to.”

Customer: “That’s the wife’s job. Why are you promoting men to be like women?!”

Me: “Sometimes single fathers come in, or it’ll just be a dad and his kids. It’s just there for convenience.”

Customer: “It makes me feel like a woman. I don’t need it in the men’s bathroom.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Honestly, I am past the point of caring and am just trying to appease him so he’ll leave me alone.

Customer: “Well, I don’t need to use it!”

Me: “Sir, you’re not obligated to use the baby changing table.”

He just stares at me with his mouth hanging open before shaking his head, sighing, and saying to himself:

Customer: “I can’t believe these d*** kids.”

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To Be Fair, We’re Not Sure Of The Difference, Either

, , | Working | April 12, 2021

I visit my local sub shop for lunch and look over the bread options.

Me: “I’d like a footlong BMT, but can you tell me the difference between the white and wheat breads?”

Cashier: “That one is made from wheat.”

Me: “I know, but how is it different from the white bread?”

Cashier: “This one is white, and that one is made from wheat.”

Me: “All your bread is… I’ll have a footlong BMT on herb-cheese bread, please.”

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A Mayo-Subbed Sub, Please

, , , | Working | July 9, 2020

One afternoon while working as a teller at the bank, I call up a nicely-dressed man who hands me a check to cash along with an out-of-state license. While helping him, I do the whole mandatory chatting thing.

Me: “I hope you’re enjoying your visit to [Town]. What brings you here?”

Customer: “I’m the district manager for [Sub Shop Chain]. I’m spending a few days visiting the local franchises in the area. Surprise inspections.”

Me: *With a happy squeal* “Oh, I love [Sub Shop Chain] subs! They’re the best! I probably order there at least once a week.”

Customer: “I’m glad to hear from a satisfied customer. Do you have any feedback on your local store you’d like to share with me?”

Me: “I really do love the subs, and the delivery is freaky fast. The only problem I run into is that when I order delivery they put mayo on my sub about half the time, and then I have to drive over to the store to get my sub remade. Mind you, they always replace it with a smile; I just wish they’d stop putting mayo on it, to begin with. Yuck. I can’t specify ‘no mayo’ because the Italian sub doesn’t even come with mayo. It comes with vinaigrette. So, it would be nice if there was a ‘no mayo’ option even if the sub isn’t supposed to come with mayo. Or maybe a comment box to make specifications about your order. I’ve tried to put it in the delivery instruction box, but that doesn’t help.”

Customer: *With a disgusted face* “Mayo and vinaigrette on the same sandwich? That sounds awful! I’ll look into that.”

After work that night, I decide that subs for dinner sound delicious, so I place a delivery order for the family. Fifteen minutes later, I’m unwrapping my sub to check for the devil’s condiment. Sure enough, there’s mayonnaise on my Italian sub. Ugh.

My family knows the deal by this point, so they don’t say anything as I rewrap the sandwich and set off to return it to the store. I’m just getting out of my car in the parking lot when I notice the man getting out of the car parked two spaces away from me. It’s the district manager I chatted with earlier in the day, arriving for a surprise inspection of the store.

Customer: “Mayo on the Italian?”

Me: “Yep.”

Customer: “Unbelievable! Come with me.”

He walked me into the shop, called all of the workers into a huddle, and gave them an earful about following the listed ingredients for the subs to increase customer satisfaction and avoid food waste. I heard one of the workers interject that “a sandwich is DRY without mayo!” but he was quickly chided by the district manager that there was a specific ingredient list for each sub, and it needed to be followed regardless of his opinions on the matter.

My sub was quickly remade by an unsmiling employee, and the district manager handed me several coupons for free subs while apologizing for my inconvenience.

It’s been a few weeks, but I’m afraid to use those coupons now. I might get an Italian without mayo, but there might be some other unsavory additions after the district manager chewed them out because of me!

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Please Sub This Employee For Someone Competent

, , , , , | Working | June 29, 2020

I am third in line at a popular US sandwich shop. A man, [Customer #1], and a lady, [Customer #2], are in front of me. This particular place — not the chain, just this location — isn’t known for its speediness so I am very glad there isn’t a long line.

[Customer #1] orders a BMT. A new girl, [Employee #1], has to ask her manager what meats those are, but she eventually gets it.

Another employee, [Employee #2], a male in his twenties, skips [Customer #2] and asks what I want. I point to [Customer #2] and tell him to help her first. She orders two sandwiches; he gets the meat wrong on one of them and fixes it, all the time trying to get my attention and ask where I work, etc. He puts one of her sandwiches in the toaster and he starts working on mine.

[Customer #1] needs another sandwich, just a simple meatball and cheese, so the girl starts working on that. Finally, after it gets toasted, it gets moved up to in front of the veggies, but for some reason it’s not packed up and the customer just stands there waiting to pay. 

Meanwhile, [Customer #2]’s sandwich has been in the toaster way too long and is burned. She requests a replacement sandwich after the flirty guy just scrapes the charred blackness onto the sandwich. He keeps the meat and places fresh bread under the meat and tries to toast it. [Customer #2] again tells him no, that won’t work; she needs a completely new sandwich. He remakes it, messing up again on her meat order, finally gets it right, and puts hers and mine on the toaster tray.

I tell him to take mine off and he does, and then puts it back on. I tell him, “No, take mine off, and please finish both of their sandwiches before continuing to make mine.”

All this time, [Customer # 1]’s toasted meatball sandwich is still not wrapped up and is sitting — now cold — on the counter. [Customer #1] is finally able to pay and leave after new girl almost gives him one of [Customer #2]’s sandwiches.

I start thinking we’re finally getting somewhere. They start working on the veggies on mine, and [Employee #2] starts talking with the supervisor on duty who has stepped behind the till just to help the line move real quick — she was on her lunch — and he starts arguing with her on the best way to ring up [Customer #2].

That finally gets resolved while the rest of us customers stand around awkwardly and the supervisor leaves because she’s just fed up with how he was telling her off in front of everyone. When he gets to the last ingredient on my sandwich, oregano, and I’m excited to just get out of this place. The top of the container falls off and the entire contents of the jar are emptied onto my sandwich.

[Employee #2] tries to laugh it off and say, “Wasn’t that funny? I thought that was funny; don’t you think so? That’s never happened before. Jeez, that was hilarious.”

By this time, everyone in the line is rolling our eyes at each other and thinking, “Oh, my God, can this get any worse? Can you believe this?”

I go back to the beginning of the line to have my sandwich remade and I watch him carefully as he’s made at least three significant mistakes already. He doubles two of the meats on my BMT –the Sub of the Day — and it is intentional; he has no idea how much meat is supposed to be on it. But there is no way I am going to tell him otherwise at this point.

He leaves my sandwich and [Employee #1] finishes it. She does an amazing job. [Employee #2] rings me up, all the time talking about how people were giving [Employee #1] a hard time — no one was — and how she just needed to do it at her pace and she’d get it done. I was more thinking that he needed the help, not her.

Then, I notice before I pay that he’s rung me up for the full price; as the Sub of the Day, my sandwich should be almost two dollars cheaper than that. I tell him that, and he’s like, “What’s the Sub of the Day?”

It’s 7:30 pm by this time; they close in less than two hours. You’d think he would know what it was by now. But, I finally get my extra-meat sandwich for the correct price and practically run out of the shop.

It took them thirty minutes for two people to make four sandwiches correctly, and the person on her first day completed more sandwiches and they were done correctly than the “experienced” guy who was supposed to train her.

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The Employee Bombed This Order

, , , | Working | May 31, 2020

This story takes place at a popular nationwide sub shop. My mom is out dropping my brother off at some event and is driving back, and she decides to stop at this sub shop to get herself and me something.

She explains her order first and the employee gets it correct. Then, she gets to my order, which happens to be a sub that has a good amount of meat on it.

After my mom explains my order, the employee gets confused and asks my mom to repeat it, which she does, only to then add on to the end of the order that the sub is “like a meat bomb.” This confuses the poor employee even further, who then starts to reach for the meatballs.

My mom quickly stops the employee and explains the order again, more slowly this time, and he finally gets it and makes the order. The sandwiches are then moved to the next employee to finish them. My mom then hears the other employee ask the customer behind her what he wants.

Customer: “I’m not sure what exactly it was, but I’ll have what she’s having!”

For those of you who wonder what the sandwich was, here is the order: toasted Italian herb and cheese bread, pepperoni, salami, bacon, steak, American cheese, lettuce, pickles, and cucumbers. Behold, the Meat Bomb!

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