Will Never Tire Of These Stories

, , , , | | Hopeless | July 11, 2019

I am driving my car and hit a curb. I get out, hoping my tire is okay, but I have a flat tire. Since it’s 8:00 am and my dad is asleep, I decide I can do it all by myself. I get everything out of my trunk and set up. I get it lifted when a car stops behind mine. 

It’s an older man, about fifty. He offers to help and really won’t take no for an answer. We get the tire changed without too many troubles. After we are done, he hands me a 100-dollar bill. I try to give it back but he insists. I couldn’t believe how a stranger could be so helpful to someone in need. 

I used the money to buy a new tire. It reminds me that there are some decent people left.

Even The Pizza Left You

, , , , , , | Right | April 17, 2019

(My husband and I order pizza, then go to pick it up. They don’t have a dine-in area, but there are four chairs lined up along the window. An elderly man is using one of the chairs, so I make my husband take one of the other chairs, and my children refuse to share the chairs. After about twenty minutes of waiting while the children are entertained with their own electronics, and my husband is zoned out on his phone, this happens:)

Elderly Man: *to my husband* “You’re so rude!”

Husband: “What?”

Me: “What? How so?”

Elderly Man: “Making her stand like that! That’s totally rude of you!”

Me: “I told him he should sit down, since my legs need to stretch, and the pressure changes have been aggravating his arthritis. I’ve been glued to a computer in a small office all day.”

Elderly Man: “Well, okay, then, that’s… Sorry. I just assumed there.”

Me: “That’s okay, yeah. I hope we don’t meet anyone who is actually rude tonight! It’s been about fifteen minutes since we got here, but I understand the wait, since we ordered several specific pizzas, and it’s a busy football night.”

Cashier: *listening in, says quietly* “Oh, thank God.”

(I was exaggerating downward; it has been at least twenty minutes. The cashier goes to confer with her manager, and the manager comes over to apologize for the wait. The kids and my husband don’t mind — they’ve got their games — but I’m thirsty, so I accept her offer of free drinks for the family. She offers the elderly gentleman a discount on his pizza, and a drink for his lengthier wait. And then, about five minutes later, another customer comes in.)

Rude Dude: *walks to counter* “I’ve been waiting 45 minutes now! I need my pizza immediately!”

Cashier: “Yes, sir, what is the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “Forty-five minutes! I’ve been waiting!”

Cashier: “And the name on your order?”

Rude Dude: “I’VE BEEN WAIIIITIIIING 45 MINUTES!”

(This repeats at least another half dozen times, with him saying the same thing in different combinations, and the cashier offering the same question in a super sweet saccharine voice. I’m getting hangry at this point, and he’s the nearest annoyance, soooo…)

Me: “Forty-five minutes, huh? Everybody here has clearly gotten that information. But, the one thing she needs is your f****** name. So, either tell the nice lady your name, or go f*** off, and wait at least another hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *gives his name and glares at the cashier*

Cashier: “Oh! Your order went out through the drive-thru five minutes ago! Have a nice night!” *turns back to the kitchen to retrieve the elderly man’s order*

Rude Dude: *screams incoherently, throws a plastic organizer full of salt, peppers, and parmesan packets into the kitchen area, and slams himself into a chair to sulk*

Elderly Man: *on his way to picking up his order, stops to address the rude dude* “Your order isn’t here, so you probably shouldn’t be, either. Now, go see if your pizza’s at home, and if it is not, do as the lady has requested. Go f*** off and wait at least an hour elsewhere.”

Rude Dude: *literally growls, then leaves*

Cashier: “Sir, that is awesome. Your order is on us tonight, and we’re so sorry for such a long wait.”

(She calls my husband’s name about five or so minutes later, and we find that they have given us an extra deep-dish pizza, a dessert, and a couple of other items that we used to order on a weekly basis, but no longer do due to household size and budget changes.)

Cashier: “Your tot—“

Manager: “Nope! No. Noooo. F*** that. This is all on us. Y’all are longtime customers, and this is the longest you guys have ever waited, and we really appreciate your patience. And you telling that guy to f*** off.”

Cashier: “Yeah! Sweet! And yeah, thanks for telling the guy to f*** off.”

Husband: *is confused*

Me: “You’re welcome. I can’t stand people that obtuse.” *laughs* “The fact that the elderly man repeated it, though… That made my week.”

Husband: “So… wait… what? We’re good here?”

Me: “Yes, I’m coming back later this week with the kids, too.”

Cashier: “[Husband], you were playing on your phone. [My Name] will explain it when y’all get home, okay?”

(When we got home, my in-laws came over unexpectedly, but thanks to the generosity of the pizzeria staff, we had enough pizza for everyone. I told everyone how we got all the pizza for free, the kids reiterated how super rude the dude was, and my husband joked that I could hire myself out as an expert snarker while I continued job hunting.)

There’s A Lot In A Number

, , , , , | Right | March 14, 2019

(I work in reservations for hotels and properties, and we are supposed to ask for customers’ names and contact numbers. This lady calls in all nice.)

Customer: “Can I please see what you have available? I’m flying in from [Location].”

Me: “Sure, may I have a good number to contact you in case we get disconnected?”

Customer: *silence*

Me: *silence*

Customer: “Did you seriously just ask me, a customer, that? Did you honestly think that was a good question? In fact, are you new? I don’t know how long you were trained for, but you obviously need to go back because your trainer has done a poor job.”

Me: “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

Customer: “And that is exactly the problem. In fact, I really want to speak to your manager; you really do not need to be on the phones. I can’t believe you would actually say, ‘I’m sorry?’ to a customer. My five-year-old can express himself better.”

(I just asked this lady for her phone number.)

Unfiltered Story #122393

, , , | Unfiltered | October 6, 2018

(I’m a bartender, so getting low or no tips comes with the territory. Other customers always make up for the cheap ones, so you move on. However, I always remember faces. A week prior to this, a guest paid his tab with a gift card which had a remaining balance of $2.78 on it. He wrote $6.00 in the tip portion, so he meant well, but obviously I could only claim the $2.78. He returned, and when it came time to pay, he pulled out the same gift card.)

Guest: “I’m not sure what is left on this.”

Me: *swipes card* “There’s nothing on this card, sir.”

Guest: *angrily hands me credit card* “There should be, I know I didn’t use it all last time.”

Me: “Sir, last time I’m fairly positive you paid with this card, there was a remaining balance of $2.78, which you left as the tip.”

Guest: “That is not possible, I always tip very well.”

Me: “Yes, sir, you did write $6.00 as the tip last week.”

Guest: *nods and sighs exasperatedly*

Me: “But the system does not allow me to claim an amount greater than what is left on the card. I do apologize, but there is nothing left on this gift card. There is nothing I can do. If you feel this is incorrect, the number for our corporate office is on your receipt. Again, I do apologize for the misunderstanding, and hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

(At this point, I hand him his card and slips back, and go outside to smoke because I’m a little frustrated. The man is always impeccably dressed and drives a wonderful vehicle, so I’m a perturbed that he complained about money. I return inside, look at the credit slip. He originally had wrote $0 for the tip, but I’m assuming he couldn’t go through with that, and crossed it out to write in $8.00 instead. I appreciated it of course, but the whole situation was just odd.)

Shaking Things Up With Your Order

, , , , , , | Working | March 7, 2018

(I only live a few minutes away from my work, so I stop there frequently for a bite to eat. The previous night, when I was working, the machine that handles all of the mochas, lattes, etc., was broken, so I keep that in mind when I find a coupon with a deal giving you a free coffee drink when you buy a big sandwich. After I pull up to the speaker and get the greeting…)

Me: “Is your coffee machine working?”

Coworker: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, I’d like to get [sandwich] and a mint mocha.”

(I get the total, pay at the first window, and go to the second window to get my food. I get my sandwich, but when my second coworker hands me my drink…)

Me: “Uh, I asked for a mint mocha, not a mint shake.”

(My second coworker looks a little confused, and the shift manager comes over to see what the deal is.)

Me: “I asked for a mocha, not a shake.” *holds up the wrong drink*

Manager: “Oh, the machine is broken.”

Me: “I even asked if it was working before I ordered.”

Manager: “I don’t have the smartest people on my shift today.” *walks away*

(I drove home with my correct sandwich and incorrect drink, still a little confused. I went to the survey website and gave my two cents about my experience, but I really couldn’t get too annoyed, as it was a free drink.)

Page 1/212