A mother and her bride-to-be daughter were in to look at the wedding cake they’d ordered for the wedding that was scheduled in two days. Seeing a cake on the counter, the bride started ranting and raving about how this cake was wrong and it wasn’t at all what she ordered. She then proceeded to smash the cake with her fists.

Well, she was right. It was nothing like she ordered. It was what another couple had ordered for their wedding.

The police let her clean her hands before they put on the handcuffs.

I’m at a restaurant with some friends from my high school cross country team. We’re placing our orders. One friend’s order has some options he needs to choose from.

Waiter: “Super salad?”

Friend: “Well, I don’t know if I’m that hungry… How big is it?”

Waiter: *Confused* “Um, which? The super salad?”

Friend: “Yeah, like it is as big as the entree?”

Waiter: “The super salad?”

Friend: “Yes.”

The conversation goes on like this for a couple of minutes, everyone’s confusion growing more and more, until finally, something dawns on the waiter…

Waiter: “Um, do you want salad or soup?”

Friend: “Oh! Side salad, please, with Italian dressing.”

It’s a pity we weren’t a baseball team!

There is a realtor who has service with our pest control company and occasionally orders inspections through us for her clients. She is rude, entitled, and snooty, and none of us can stand her. Oftentimes she will call in and demand things that we can’t provide, often legally speaking, like information about other people’s accounts. For a while, we would just tell her no and hang up, but now we’ve all made a point to waste her time as much as she wastes ours.

Realtor: “Hi. I’m calling about a mutual client of ours, [Client].”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Realtor: “When was the last time you serviced his lawn?”

Me: “Do you pay for his lawn service?”

Realtor: *Indignant* “No!”

Me: “Then, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that.”

Realtor: *Huffing* “Look, he’s got lots of little purple flowers in his yard and I just want to know what you’re going to do about it!”

What she’s describing is a common weed in this part of Florida, colloquially called “Florida snow.” I’ve been almost manically pleasant with her up to this point, but now I really dial up the innocent sweetness in my voice.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m not familiar with your client’s landscaping situation or preferences. I would hate to send someone out and have them ruin his yard.”

Realtor: *Screeching* “Well, you’re no help at all!”

Then, she hung up. She’s right, though; we definitely can’t help her at all. Stop calling.

I’m working at a card shop. One morning, two ladies come in. After browsing for a minute, they come up to the register. They put their cards down on the counter. I reach for them to ring them up.

Me: “Did you find everything—”

Customer: “EXCUSE ME, I’M NOT READY YET!”

Me: “Oh. Uh, okay. Sorry.”

They stand up there going through the cards. I’ve never seen anyone do this before. You wouldn’t take a bunch of groceries up to the belt and start going through them there, so I don’t know why she thinks it’s okay here, but there are no other customers in the store, so I let it be. I’m not allowed to leave the register when customers are there, so I just stand there awkwardly, watching. Eventually, she chooses three cards out of the big stack she brought up.

Customer: “These.”

Me: “Okay, that’ll be [amount]. Receipt with you or in the bag?”

She literally throws her money at me. When the receipt prints, she snatches it out of my hand. I hand her her change.

Me: “Have a great day!”

Her friend glares at me as they walk out.

Customer: *Over her shoulder* “Could you be any ruder?!”

I work in a bakery as the only woman. The guys are still surprised whenever I carry really heavy stuff or fix things. 

Some of our ovens are built like a closet, with the “shelves” being metal and heated to the appropriate temperature. The breads are baked in sets of metal molds set on rolling wagons that fit into these shelves, putting each batch of molds above a shelf. The oven is about two meters deep, fitting two wagons. 

For some weeks, we’ve had issues with these wagons getting stuck, especially the one in the back. They go in fine, but getting them out sometimes takes a lot of swearing and several big, strong guys pulling — a lot of fun in front of metal heated to 250° Celsius.

I’ve heard a lot of grumbling about it, but the first time I see it happen is also one of the worst times; the wagon is stuck almost all the way back, meaning they can’t even reach it with their hands. Three guys are trying to pull it out with some L-shaped metal pieces. 

Ten minutes pass, and someone’s bleeding after slipping. I get a bandaid.

Me: “Can I take a look? I mean, if it goes in easily, it should come out easily, too, right? Obviously, brute force can’t be the answer.”

Coworker: “No, we’ve got it, don’t worry. We’ve gotten all the others out, too!”

Twenty minutes pass, someone’s gotten himself burnt, and the third one nearly cracks his head open after falling backward when the hook slips off. I’ve offered to look several times, basically begging at the end. 

Finally, they give up and retreat to discuss how to distribute the remaking breads on our other oven types. Obviously, this is unfixable! 

Sensing my chance, I grab a long wooden hook and my phone, turn on the flashlight and drop down onto the floor to look at the wheels. I’m assuming I’m guessing wrong, because surely, the issue cannot be that the wheels have only turned halfway and thus being dragged sideways instead of rolling.

This has gone on for weeks, after all. One of them would have checked! 

Lo and behold, the back wheels have gotten stuck sideways. I maneuver the hook into place on the wheel and give it a sharp pull, and the wheel turns into a proper-ish position. After repeating that for the other wheel, I grab the metal hooks, position them, plant my butt on the floor and my feet against the doorframe, and push and pull backward with all I have… and the wagon comes forward, screeching and reluctantly, but forward it comes. 

And that’s how a problem that had progressed to the point where the replacement of a whole, expensive oven was being discussed was solved by simply replacing a few wheels, and how my big strong coworkers learned that asking someone who can’t solve things with brute force to have a look is a good idea.