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Boys Will Be Boy Toys

, , , , , | Right | July 10, 2020

A little boy and his grandpa approach my counter and I ask to take their order. The grandpa orders his meal and then asks his grandson what kind of kids’ meal he would like. We are currently out of one kind of toy, so I mention it, offering to show him what other toys we have to offer. The boy starts repeatedly chanting loudly:


Grandpa and I both had to contain ourselves and he got a “boy toy.”

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So Hot The Customers Toast Themselves

, , , | Right | May 28, 2020

I work at a well-known, widespread sub shop. We are actually the busiest store in my town because of our convenient location to a hospital, a portion of our college campus, and many forms of public transportation. When the students come in for the start of school, our store can get pretty crazy sometimes.

Move-in week for freshmen was about a week ago. It’s early August and, due to a sick coworker, my manager and I are the only ones working during the morning and lunch rush.

Me: “How ya doing?! What can I get for you today?”

The customer mumbles and looks at the paper in her hands a few times.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. What did you say?”

More mumbling and sighing from the customer. This continues on for a few moments before I get frustrated. I have a line out the door behind her. Finally, I pull down the protective glass separating us. She can easily see over the top of the line while I barely reach her neck. I hunch over and speak a little louder to combat the noises of the oven behind me, thinking she can’t hear me.

Me: “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but I can’t hear a word you’re saying. You have to speak up.”

Customer: *Heavy sigh* “I need three sandwiches!”

Me: “Fantastic! Can you tell me the breads first?”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “Can you tell me the different breads for your subs first? So I can start cutting them to prepare properly.”

Customer: “Ugh, FINE.”

She goes on, giving me short, curt answers to all my basic questions. The line behind her is slowly growing and the oven behind me has bread that needs to be taken out of it or it will burn. The door is open to prevent that from happening, but our AC is busted and the entire store is stifling at this point. By now, I can send her food on to be finished with veggies and whatnot.

Me: “All right. Now, what kind of cheese do you want on these?”

Customer: “Swiss on all.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but [Restaurant] doesn’t carry Swiss. All my cheeses are labeled here.”

I point.

Customer: “Ugh! I don’t know! White!”

I am visibly upset and on the verge of saying something I really shouldn’t. I can’t help but look between her food and my selection.

Me: “But… they’re all white.”

Customer: “AMERICAN!”

My store is so hot by now, and my oven keeps beeping because the door is still open and we’re all sweating. The customers behind her are just as upset as I am at this point so I put the cheese on and send her food on its way as fast as I can.

I run to take out all my bread and nearly hit my manager with a hot pan. We’re both extremely sweaty and miserable and the lunch rush has only just started. I go back to my other customers who, thankfully, have easier orders and speak clearly, everyone just wanting to get their food and leave. I rush through about two dozen people’s orders before I have a small break to breathe. I run the register while my manager finishes wrapping up the difficult customer’s orders.

Me: “So, I have three six-inch [orders]. Did you want anything else with that?”

Customer: “Why is it so hot in here?! I can’t even think!”

Me: “I’m sorry about that. Our AC is broken right now, so there’s not much I can do about it.”

I try to joke.

Me: “If anything, you might be more comfortable eating on the sidewalk. I bet it’s cooler outside by now.”

Customer: “HOW DARE YOU?!”

She pays and stomps off.

Two hours later, a close friend and coworker comes in to start his shift and our line is efficiently taken care of. We have a temperature gauge sitting on top of our oven and the highest it reached all day was about 110F, taking into consideration whenever we had to open the oven to get any bread out.

All of us are ready to pass out and I’ve found myself sitting in the freezer just to cool down. Finally, we’ve reached a break three hours after my encounter with the difficult customer and I’ve all but forgotten her. As I’m doing dishes, my manager is doing paperwork in his office but starts to laugh loudly a few minutes in. He comes out to me at the sink.

Me: “Uh… [Manager], what’s so funny?”

Manager: “After over a year of working here, with a flawless track record and attendance, you have received your very first complaint. Congratulations.”

Turns out, that woman kept her receipt to take our survey and gave us all zeroes! In the comments sections, she went on to describe how “compliant and kind-worded” she had been while I had insulted her. She complained that the store was too hot and it was my fault because I was mean to her. She went on to say the employees looked terrible and acted like they didn’t want to serve anyone. She demanded I be fired because I was “conceited” and just a “rude teenager” who didn’t care about anything, and she said that she would never come to our store again.

My manager, who’s only been with the store a few months, immediately emailed his boss about how the woman REALLY acted and said to not give her any form of compensation common to poor reviews. Good riddance to her!

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The Thrilling Heroism Of Orange Shirt Guy

, , , , , , | Legal | May 4, 2020

I am running the register at the lumberyard of a hardware store I work at. It is incredibly busy this afternoon. Just then, a young guy with a tool bag is approaching the exit from my right side. He is a scrawny-looking twenty-something white guy with black curly hair and he wears square black glasses. I look over at him and begin my usual customer service spiel.

Me: “Hello, sir! Do you need help with anything?”

He looks at me and holds up the bag.

Bag Guy: “Oh, uh… I already paid for this. My buddy is behind me with the receipt.”

Before I can ask him for more information about this buddy of his, he walks toward the exit. Bear in mind, the store has two sets of sliding doors, so he has only passed the first set.

In the vestibule between the two sets of doors, there is a coworker sitting near the second set of sliding doors. He is there for two reasons: to watch the door and make sure no one tries to enter in that way since it is designated as an exit only, and to update a running counter application that we have on the current number of customers in the store.

We have this happening because of CDC guidelines of allowing only a limited number of people in our store due to current events.

The coworker sees the bag guy heading toward him and notices me trying to ask him about the receipt. He approaches and asks him for a receipt. The bag man pretty much gives the same spiel about the receipt. The coworker tries to get him to stop and produce a receipt, but he keeps walking out of our store.

He is a shoplifter.

At this point, there is nothing we can do. Management forbids us from trying to chase down or confront anyone that steals from us. There are two reasons why this rule was put in place:

  1. The shoplifter could get violent and assault any employee who tries to stop him or her. The thief could also pull out a weapon like a knife, gun, or mace and use it on the employee, causing injury or death.
  2. Given how lawsuit-happy some people are, the thief may decide to sue the store for wrongful detainment, harassment, discrimination, and so forth. And considering that companies are fearful of lawsuits filed against them, it is a PR nightmare, especially if it turns out the man or woman was innocent.

So, the doorman and I, along with two more coworkers who had tailed the thief, are watching him walk away, feeling rather angry. Suddenly, a rather obese old man in a bright orange shirt runs out the door after the thief. [Orange Shirt] is a regular customer who comes in and buys any leftover non-stock and damaged goods from us for renovations of properties he has.

[Orange Shirt] manages to catch up with the thief, who has been walking towards his truck and not really paying attention. [Orange Shirt] confronts the bag thief, who thinks that [Orange Shirt] is a worker here. He gets rather cocky toward [Orange Shirt].

Bag Guy: “You can’t do anything against me.”

Orange Shirt: “Yeah, I can, because I don’t work there.”

Realizing this, the thief gets rather angry at [Orange Shirt], possibly trying to intimidate him.

Bag Guy: “You think you’re some kind of bada**?”

[Orange Shirt] is having none of it. He stands his ground and glares at the thief.

Orange Shirt: “No… I know I’m a bada**.”

The thief realized he was fighting a losing battle, so he gave up the tool bag and walked away, looking angry. My coworkers and I had a laugh after seeing this, and [Orange Shirt] came back in the store with the tool bag.

Managers checked the tool bag and it was stuffed with a complete toolset worth hundreds of dollars. Apparently, he had been spotted cutting open random tools and stuffing them inside the bag to try to sneak out with them.

What an idiot.

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So Long, And Thanks For All The Chicken And Fish

, , , , | Right | April 23, 2020

I work at a small chain fast food place famous for our fish. It’s late, about 9:00 pm. Fridays are our busiest days, so I’m tired, behind on my dishes, and going through a lot of mental stress. I just want to get this last hour over with. Three customers walk in. [Customer #1] and [Customer #2] pay together. [Customer #3] pays on his own.

Customer #1: “I’d like a #3.”

Customer #2: *before leaving* “I’ll take a #6.”

Me: “All righty!”

[Customer #2] leaves to go to the bathroom. I finish their order and call out all the food items. [Customer #1] sits down and I make their food. At my restaurant, we usually bring the food to your table just as a kind gesture. I take the food to [Customer #1] and it seems normal. I go back and take the next order.

Customer #3: “I’d like a #3 and add—”

Suddenly, [Customer #1] is yelling at the end of the counter.

Customer #1: “THIS IS WRONG!”

I apologize to [Customer #3] and walk to the table to see what error I made.

Me: “Sir, the #3 is two fish, one chicken, three shrimp.”


I begin to walk to the menu board to show him that he is incorrect, but [Customer #1] just sits back down and glares with his arms crossed. [Customer #2] has walked in from the bathroom. [Customer #1] demands he follow me to the board because I will not back down that I am correct. I’ve worked here for two years; I know this menu better than my own birthday.

Me: *Pointing* “The #3 is here. Two fish, one chicken, three shrimp.”

I then point to the number above.

Me: “The #2 is the two fish, three chicken.”

I’m annoyed because I am being rude to [Customer #3], who tries to defuse the situation and offers to buy his friend the correct meal and simply switch with him. Nope. I walk back around the counter and begin to finish his order.

Ten seconds later, [Customer #2] runs to the counter and begins pointing in my face but only looking at my coworker, who happens to be my best friend. He is leaning on my shoulder to make sure the man doesn’t try to come at me.

Customer #2: “You need to get her to check her f****** attitude and she needs to apologize to my friend for being such a f****** b****!”


I then promptly finish [Customer #3]’s order with the sweetest attitude I can muster up before storming out for a short smoke break. My manager comes out a few minutes later to ask for my side of the story. 

Manager: “F****** morons. You don’t get paid enough to deal with their s***.”

After our smoke break, my manager and I walked back in smiling and laughing. The men glared at me while I continued to walk to the back.

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Ultra-Thin Patience

, , , , | Right | March 13, 2020

(I’m working the speedy checkout line and checking a young woman out when an older gentleman of about eighty appears behind her, looking as if he rolled out of bed and drove straight here.)

Me: “Good morning, sir. How are—”

(He literally throws a package of ultra-thin condoms at me, along with a twenty.)

Me: “Would you like this in a bag, sir?”

Customer: *grunts angrily*

(I ring him up, and the drawer opens to give him his change.)

Customer: “Can you keep the change as a tip?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept tips.”

Customer: *angrily* “Well, hurry up, then! She’s at home waiting for me!”

Me: “I am doing my best, sir.”

(I count out his change.)

Me: “Have a nice day, sir.”

(He then grumbled, snatched the bag from me, and then proceeded to run out the door.)

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