The Cake Shop Is A Lie

| IL, USA | Right | March 23, 2016

(It’s a week before our store closes. A few days ago, my manager told me not to take any more cake orders because we no longer have the supplies to properly decorate a cake. While cleaning up, the phone rings and I answer it.)

Me: “Bakery department. How may I help you?

Customer: “Hello, I’d like to put in a cake order for next Wednesday, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t take anymore cake orders due to the store closing soon.”

Customer: “Oh… but can you have it done by next Wednesday?”

Me: “Ma’am, I just said we can’t take anymore cake orders.”

Customer: “But I need a cake for next Wednesday. Can’t you do that?”

Me: “No, because we don’t have the supplies necessary to fill an order.”

Customer: *getting agitated* “Listen, here! I need a cake by next Wednesday and you should have it ready or I’ll—”

Me: “It won’t be ready by then because the store is going to be closed by that time.”

Customer: “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

Me: *face-palm*

Manly Soup

| UK | Related | March 17, 2016

(I am about five or six, out shopping with my mother. I have started to read longer words and will habitually read all the aisle signs. Upon seeing a sign that really confuses me, I turn to my mother.)

Me: “Mum, why do people think that men can’t cook?”

Mum: “Well, some of it is left over social expectation that it’s a woman’s job, but in the case of your father it’s because no one ever likes what he cooks. But anyone can cook if they want to. Why do you ask?”

Me: *confused* “Well, this supermarket has a special section just for bachelors and all they think they can manage is instant soup and stuff.”

Mum: *laughing* “No, sweetheart, ‘Bachelors’ is just the name of the company.”

(Turns out the sign was brand advertising for ‘Bachelors Cup A Soup.’ Mum thought it was very cute and has never let me live it down.)

Asking The Meaty Questions

, | FL, USA | Working | March 13, 2016

(Our delivery truck is late and we are struggling to find things to put in our hot food case. My assistant manager hands me a box of brownies left over from Passover, which was three weeks ago.)

Me: *opening the box* “These are the ugliest brownies I’ve ever seen. They look like burnt meatloaf slathered in dog s***.”

Assistant Manager: “They’re just BROWNIES, [My Name]!”

Me: “I’d dispute you on that point.”

Assistant Manager: “Whatever. Just put them in the case.”

(As I’m putting them in the case, I look at her over my shoulder.)

Me: “Bet you a million bucks somebody looks at these and asks, ‘What kind of meat is that?'”

Assistant Manager: “Okay, [My Name], now you’re just being ridiculous.”

(A customer approaches.)

Assistant Manager: “Can I help you, sir?”

Customer: “Yeah, what kind of meat is that?”

(She gave me a death glare. I walked away shrugging and laughing.)


| NY, USA | Right | March 2, 2016

(I am buying a newspaper, in addition to other things, which has an article about the Ukraine on the front.)

Customer: “You know, you kids should really be worrying more.”

Me: “Oh? Why is that?”

Customer: “Because World War Three is coming.”

Me: *laughing* “Well, I’m not so much the military type. I suppose I’ll just go hide in Canada.”

Customer: “Oh, you think that! But Canada is voting soon to leave the Commonwealth! They want to be part of Russia!”

Me: *thoroughly confused* “Really? I suppose that puts Alaska in an awkward position.”

Customer: “You don’t even know!”

(After this, she went on for several minutes about assorted crackpot political theories. I felt bad for the people waiting.)

“Imagine” A More Compassionate Boss

| UK | Working | March 1, 2016

(I am working in the warehouse of a local supermarket when all of a sudden a piece of racking collapses and an entire pallet of beer falls on me. I am knocked to the ground and badly injured, and I lay dazed on the floor. A coworker signals an emergency and begins applying first aid.)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], don’t you fall asleep on me.”

Me: *slurred* “I am kinda tired, though.”

Coworker: “Don’t make me sing to you.”

(Singing can be used to help keep a person conscious by making them focus on the words of the song.)

Me: “Aw, would you really do that?”

Coworker: *begins singing ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon*

(By this point maybe a dozen colleagues have responded to the emergency alarm and have come to try and help. An ambulance has been called but I was starting to fall asleep and a couple more colleagues joined in the singing. My supervisor finally arrives.)

Supervisor: “Where the f*** have you guys been?! You’re here to work not to start a f***ing concert! Get your lazy a**es back out there before I fire the lot of you! Which idiot hit the emergency alarm?”

(Always nice to know your supervisor has your interests at heart.)

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