Peppered Eyes Peppered With Lies

, , , , , , | | Working | May 24, 2018

(This happens to my friend who works at a popular sandwich shop during high school. A customer in her mid- to late-50s walks in.)

Friend: “Hello, ma’am! Welcome to [Sandwich Shop]. What can I get for you today?”  

(The customer slowly walks up to the counter and stares blankly at my friend, not saying a word.)  

Friend: “Is there anything I can help you with, ma’am?”  

Customer: *snaps awake and cheery* “Yes. Could I please get the Italian hero with a medium drink and cookies?”  

Friend: “Absolutely!”  

(My friend then proceeds to do the usual game of twenty questions when getting a sandwich done at these shops, and things are going smoothly up until she gets to the vegetable portion.)  

Friend: “What veggies will you be having on this today?”  

Customer: “Oh, I’m not sure. Could I have a look at the lettuce and spinach over the divider to see if it’s wilted, please?”

(The customer tries to give puppy dog eyes. My friend thinks this is odd, but she doesn’t to be rude and refuse, so she holds the container over the divider so the customer can see.)  

Customer: *moans* “Oh, yes, yes. Please give me a big handful of both. Could I also see the jalapeños?”

(The customer attempts to give puppy dog eyes again. Just wanting to get this order done with fast, my friend obliges her and holds the container over the divider. The customer smiles, and then immediately digs her hand into the container and squishes a handful of jalapeños on her face. She begins to scream bloody murder.)  


(She continues to scream until the manager comes rushing out from the office.)

Manager: *to my friend* “WHAT HAPPENED?” *grabs first-aid kit and stuff to help clean up the customer*

Friend: *still in shock* “I… I’m not sure. She just… And smacked it… Like, on herself…” *keeps staring in shock*  


Manager: “Okay, ma’am, let’s go talk in my office to get this whole thing resolved.” *to another coworker in the backroom* “Go take [Friend] into the break room and cover the register, please.” *quietly to my friend* “I’ll be back there in a bit. Go relax until I get this sorted.”

(My friend waited for around ten minutes before the manager came back to get her. Apparently, once the manager got the customer’s details down he asked her if she could show him where in the video my friend had thrown the peppers, and she got nervous and ran out, saying that wouldn’t be necessary. My friend got sent home with a free sandwich to cool off and calm down after everything that happened. Later that week, they all found out that woman had been going around town to the different locations trying to get free stuff and people fired.)

Number Two Over By Number Seven

, , , , | Right | May 14, 2018

(I work night shifts at a service station. When a customer picks up a fuel hose to fuel up their car, it sets off an alarm inside that alerts the station attendant that the pump needs to be authorized. Fuel won’t pour until they do so, and the alarm won’t stop until it is either authorized or hung up. Unfortunately, a system error crashes one of the pumps with the alarm still going, so the entire pump has been turned off to shut it up until it can be fixed. Each nozzle on the pump has been covered with a bright orange out-of-order sign that must be removed before it can be used. I am in the cold room of the store stocking shelves when I hear thumping sounds and swearing, so I return to the front in time to see a man seemingly standing up from beside the non-functioning pump. There is no car, but I see he has a fuel can.)

Me: *over PA system* “Sorry, customer on pump seven! That one is currently out of order. I’ll just get you to move over to six and you’ll be all set.”

(The customer storms over to the night window, swearing loudly the whole while.)

Customer: “Oh, and you couldn’t d*** well tell me that ten minutes ago, you useless f****** w****r? What the f*** were you doing?”

Me: “I’m very sorry, sir.” *I explain the error, the pump alarm, etc.* “So, when you attempted to fill up, it wasn’t able to notify me, and since you walked in, I didn’t hear a car entering. Again, I’m extremely sorry about the wait. If you want to head over to one of the other pumps, I can get that started for you right away, and I can grab you a coffee card or free drink as an apology.”

Customer: *slightly mollified* “Well, you still should have had some kind of d*** sign out so tha—” *he gestures angrily at the pump, pausing as he notices the fluorescent orange hose-covers* “Huh.”

(He pauses for a moment, then turns back to me, looking absolutely mortified.)

Customer: “Look, I’m really sorry I went off like that. I messed up, and you’ve treated me a lot politer than I deserved. Don’t worry about fuel or a freebie. I’ll just go. Uh… Who… cleans out by the pumps and that here, by the way?”

Me: “The night staff do it, so that’ll be me just before I finish this morning. Why?”

Customer: “Oh, uh… Um, here.” *he shoves a $10 note into the cash slot and leaves hurriedly*

(Some time later:)

Another Customer: “Jesus, did somebody take a s*** over beside pump seven?”

(Sadly, the answer was yes.)

Should Run A Pool To How They Want To Get In The Pool

, , , , | Right | May 8, 2018

(I work audit at a popular hotel chain. I am warned immediately when I get in one night that there is a VERY large bachelor party renting four rooms, and that they announced they were going to a strip club and getting drunk before they all left. I am prepared to field all manner of weird requests when they get back, but have been told that more than likely they will want to get in the pool. The first thing I do is block the pool, so only a master key can get in, and then settle down to wait. Sure enough, they come back, and the entire party is drunk. They are carrying various open containers of alcohol, and not a single person in this party is quiet.)

Me: “Hey, guys, just a reminder that it’s after midnight. I’m going to need you to be quiet in the halls and be courteous of other guests!”

Guest #1: “Okay. Hey, will you let us into the pool?”

Me: “No, sorry, the pool is closed.”

Guest #2: “We only need it for, like 15 minutes! We just want to throw the groom in!”

Me: “Unfortunately, I can’t open it, even for 15 minutes. Sorry.”

Guest #1: “We could bribe you? We still have lots of singles from the strip club!”

Guest #2: “Yeah, the strippers were kind of ugly.”

Me: “Sorry.”

Guest #1: “Or you could have a shot?” *holds up bottle of raspberry vodka*

Me: “Oh, that does sound tempting, but I’m on the clock, and I can’t drink on the job.”

Guest #2: “Beer? [Brand] Energy Drink?” *holds out box of energy drinks*

Me: “No, sorry, I still can’t let you in the pool. If you really want to throw the groom in, you can do it at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Guest #1: “Well, never mind, I guess. Do you want a shot, anyway?”

Me: “Like I said, I’m working, so I can’t. I’d get fired.”

Guest #2: *hands me a can of energy drink* “Here. You should have this.”

Me: *takes can* “Okay? I’m still not opening the pool.”

Guest #1: “It’s okay. I’m going to go yell at everyone to be quiet. Bye!”

(This was not the last time I heard of or from them that night, either, and all my encounters went much the same way.)

Displaying All Manner Of Bad Manners

, , , | Right | May 7, 2018

(The grocery store I work at is tiny, and the aisles are very narrow; if you stand with your arms out, you can easily reach both sides. When it’s busy, it’s nearly impossible to get around without having to squeeze past someone. The customer in question is standing on one side, but examining the opposite shelf, so I have to walk in front of him to get by, although I keep as far as possible from his person.)

Customer: *in the most outraged voice possible* “Kids these days! Aren’t you going to say, ‘Excuse me’?!”

(I am restocking pasta, and my arms are full enough that I have to tuck my chin over the load so I won’t drop it. I literally can’t say anything, and his viciousness kind of shocks me. I try to shrug it off. About five minutes later, I have to walk in front of him again.)

Me: “Pardon me?”

(I am very soft-spoken, and the store is crowded, so I guess he doesn’t hear me. His reaction is to take his canvas bag and SLAP me with it, like hitting a dog with a newspaper.)

Customer: “Someone need to teach you some manners, kid!”

(Apparently “manners” is hitting someone until they’re polite enough for you! I did behind-the-scenes work until he left so he wouldn’t take it in his head to give me a timeout.)

Let’s Kick Start This Camp!

, , , , | Learning | May 7, 2018

(I’m teaching at a summer theatre camp, and the first group I am working with is a group of about 20 seven- to nine-year-olds. It’s a lot. I’m somewhat new to working with kids. It’s in day one and we’re about to have an afternoon snack. Per training, I’m discussing not sharing snacks and why, before we go outside.)

Me: “It’s very important to remember to keep your snack to yourself! Can anybody tell me why?”

(I choose one kid with their hand up.)

Child: “Because it’s mine.”

Me: “Yes! This is true! Your parents packed a snack that’s for you, and not for everyone here! Also, you never know if someone may be allergic to—”

(Mid-sentence, I watch this girl kick an unsuspecting kid next to her, square in the face. Very lightly, but still IN THE FACE.)

Me: *without missing a beat* “NO. NO. You and I are going to talk about this in a second, but let me finish this first.”

(I continue on about snack safety. I finish and check that the child who got kicked is okay, and the camp assistants then begin to lead the rest of the kids in a line out to the playground.)

Me: “[Kicking Girl]!”

(I do that “come here” motion with my finger, like my parents use to do to me before giving me the business. The girl looks down at the floor.)

Me: “You can’t kick people in the face.”

Kicking Girl: *looks away and sighs* “I’m just trying to have a good time.”

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