I have recently had my second child and am at her “first days of life” appointment. I have also brought along my three-year-old daughter. After the appointment, we go to the front desk to check out.

Me: “Can we also schedule [Three-Year-Old]’s four-year checkup for April?”

Receptionist: “Sure, how many months is she?”

Me: “How many months is [Three-Year-Old]?”

Receptionist: “Yes.”

Me: “She turns four in a few months.”

Receptionist: *Irritated* “But how many months is she?”

I try to calculate.

Me: “That’s not really something I kept track of off the top of my head after she turned two, but she’s forty-five months.”

I am an avid video game collector and am always seeking out new places to shop for old games. While passing through Georgia, I find a couple of rare games I’ve been trying to find all over the country for years in great condition. (Mega Man 7 & Mega Man X3 with its manual, if you’re curious.) Eager to fill in these gaps in my collection, I open my wallet to get out my credit card, and the store clerk spots my military ID.

Clerk: “Oh, you’re military? I’ll put in your discount.”

Me: “Uh, thank you. I’m just a contractor, though.”

Clerk: “Uh-huh, we thank you for your service.”

Me: “Well, I haven’t technically served; I’m a contractor. I’m not enlisted, nor an officer, and I don’t wear a uniform. I’m a network engineer.”

Clerk: “I understand, sir. Thanks again for your service.”

Me: “…You’re welcome.”

I am not sure what else I could have done to make him understand what a military contractor is, but I tried my best, and I saved over $70!

I am waiting on a large group of about twenty people. Everything is going smoothly while I take the order and deliver the food. After giving them a few minutes, I go back to the table and ask how everything is. Most of the table murmurs pleasantly and nods their heads, but one woman raises her hand and I walk closer to where she is sitting.

Me: “Is there a problem with your food, or something I can get for you?”

Woman: “My and my husband’s steaks are cold in the center. Could you put them back on the grill to heat them up more? I think they sat too long with such a big group.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. The health department won’t let us put them back on the grill, but I will get new orders made for you. The steaks are medium rare, correct?”

Man: “That’s right. Thanks.”

I take their plates, too, and ask the cooks to remake the food.

Grill Cook: “Those didn’t sit at all other than letting them rest for a minute. Are you sure they wanted them medium rare?”

Me: “I double-checked before coming back. I’ll take them right from the grill. Maybe they just don’t usually rest their steaks, so they are used to being warmer.”

The food is remade, and I have the steaks on the table less than a minute from being taken off the grill. The couple thanks me. I get refill orders from the table and check back in with the couple.

Me: “How are the steaks?”

Woman: “They are still cold in the center; we would like them remade again.”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. I will go get that going for you.”

Back in the kitchen, I order the third set of steaks.

Cook: “It’s not possible to get them any hotter and still be medium rare.”

Me: “I know. Will you make them medium instead? Maybe that will work.”

I bring out the food, and this time I wait for them to check it. They immediately send it back for being cold.

Cook: “If they want another steak, I’m going to make it well done.”

Me: “That’s fine. Honestly, I don’t think they know what they are ordering.”

I bring the fourth set of steaks straight from the grill, cooked well done. I get a few dessert orders from the group while the couple checks their steaks. Before I go back to the kitchen, I check with the couple.

Man: “These steaks are still too cold! Do I need to go back there and show your cook how to get a hot steak?”

Throughout the whole process, the couple has been very polite. This slightly frustrated outburst is pretty mild compared to how most people get after sending their food back even once.

Me: “I’m sorry. I will get them made again.”

To the kitchen!

Me: “[Cook], I’m sorry.”

Cook: “How are they still complaining that they’re cold? I’m not wasting another steak on them. Did they bite them at all?”

Me: “No, they just cut into them and touched the center.”

Cook: “Good, give them back.”

I hand her the plates, and she takes the steaks and drops them into the deep fryer. I get the dessert order rung in, and as the desserts are finishing up, the cook pulls the steaks out of the deep fryer. They no longer look like food.

Cook: “Here. If they still are not happy, tell them that’s too bad. I am not going to make anything else for them.”

I don’t want to bring out the burnt hockey pucks, but I already told the couple I would bring them out new food, so I do so reluctantly. I set down the steaks first and then distribute the desserts to the rest of the table.

Me: “How are the steaks this time?”

Man: “Absolutely wonderful! This is the best steak I have ever had.”

Woman: “Yes! Why couldn’t they have done this the first time?”

Me: “I’m not sure, but I’m so glad we were able to get that figured out for you.”

Woman: “Please send our compliments to the chef. I’m sure it was a difficult process, but at least now they know how to make a decent steak. I’m sure it will be a valuable lesson going forward. Since everyone else is eating dessert already, can we order ours to go?”

I am working at a small Mexican-inspired restaurant in the business building on my college campus. We are currently taking orders from a kiosk or an app. Two older gentlemen come straight up to the counter and try to order.

Coworker: “Hi, guys. I’m sorry, but we’re only taking orders from the kiosk right now!”

Customer: “Oh, we don’t believe in kiosks. We believe in people.”

Turns out these guys were “special friends” of our boss. He ended up coming over and telling us to let them order at the counter and skip the giant line at the kiosk and the huge list of mobile orders.

On the walkie, a call goes out for two workers to take an item out to a car. We get to the front of the store ready to take it out, but the customer stops us.

Customer: “I’m sorry, but the car isn’t here yet. My sons will pull right up in front of the doors so you can load it there.”

Me: “Actually, we cannot load anything in front of the doors due to it being a fire lane. We’ll take it to wherever they’ll park.”

The woman does not like this and proceeds to throw a fit the entire time we wait for her sons. Finally, she asks for a manager.

Customer: “This is ridiculous! I don’t even know where the car will be parked. Every other store lets us load at the front of the store!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, but we have to take it to where the car is parked. Other stores may allow you, but this is our policy.”

Customer: “And why is that?! You’re all the same store, just different locations!”

Manager: “There was an incident here.”

After that ominous message, the customer leaves, and eventually, the sons park the car and we take the item out. The entire time, she’s swearing that she’ll never shop here again and that she organizes the local toys for tots and they won’t use our store ever again, either — a total lie.

After dealing with the woman, my coworker asks me a question.

Coworker: “What did [Manager] mean by ‘There was an incident’?”

Me: “Oh, you didn’t get this during orientation? A worker was unloading something and a car pulled up behind. They forgot to put the car in park, went to get out, realized the car was moving, and slammed on the gas instead of the brakes. They pinned the worker, and they had to be life flighted. That’s why our store is the only one with that rule — because we’re the only one that had something happen.”

Coworker: “No… we were not told that in orientation! We were just told about the fire lane!”

Me: “Well, now you know and be extra careful just in case!”