About To Meat Their End

, , , , , | Right | June 26, 2018

(This particular location has a really bad issue with customers ordering sandwiches with double meat and extra cheese, then going to check out and pitching a fit that they didn’t order the extra and refusing to pay. I’ve already had to deal with four customers doing this today, and I am on guard as soon as this customer places her order.)

Customer: “Give me a footlong steak and cheese on white, double meat and extra swiss, toasted.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. I just have to let you know that the double meat is $3 extra, and the extra cheese another $.60.”

Customer: “Yes. I know that. I come here all the time.”

(I make the sandwich, including the extra meat and cheese, and place it in the toaster before continuing with the next customer. My coworker, who happens to be a middle-aged man with some mild mental delays, finishes off making the sandwich and starts to cash her out. He is a little slow about arranging the vegetables but he gives amazing customer service. All hell breaks loose when he gives her the total.)

Customer: “WHAT THE F*** DO YOU MEAN, $14? IT’S ONE SANDWICH!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Let me check again. Steak and cheese, right?”

Customer: “Obviously.”

Coworker: “Okay. That’s $9.50, plus $3 for double meat, and another $.60 for the extra cheese. Tax makes it $14.18.”

Customer: “No. I didn’t order anything extra, and I’m not paying any extra. Manager, now.”

(I am the night manager, so I came to the register as soon as she started yelling.)

Me: “What seems to be the problem, [Coworker]?”

Coworker: “She says she didn’t order it with double meat or extra cheese.”

Customer: “I DIDN’T! THIS R***** JUST PUT IT ON THE SANDWICH! I’M NOT PAYING FOR EXTRA!”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, I’m the one who started your sandwich, and I clearly remember you requesting the extras. I even explained that it would cost more, and you were fine with that. Also, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use abusive language toward my coworker.”

Customer: “LIAR!” *turns to other customers* “THESE PEOPLE ARE LIARS AND THIEVES! DON’T WASTE YOUR MONEY HERE!” *turns back to me* “NOW GIVE ME MY FOOD!”

(I’ve had enough. One customer has already left because the woman is taking so much time and causing such a scene; the others all look extremely uncomfortable.)

Me: “Your total is $14.18; will it be cash or card?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “That’s the total, ma’am. You ordered double meat and extra cheese.”

Customer: “NO, I DIDN’T! YOU CAN’T PROVE IT!”

Me: “Look, lady. Our security cameras also record audio and are programmed to create a memo at the time stamp whenever certain keywords are used, such as ‘double’ or ‘extra,’ so they can be sure we’re not giving extras away. I assure you, I can prove it. Now, you can pay for your sandwich or you can leave.”

Customer: “GIVE ME MY F****** FOOD, YOU FAT B****!”

Me: *violently slams sandwich into full garbage can* “Leave, now. Get out of the store or I’m calling the police.”

(The woman refused to leave, and at one point shoved our cookie case off of the counter. Luckily, the police station was right across the intersection from us, so the officers got there before she could cause too much trouble. The few customers who remained through the entire ordeal got free cookies. One of them owns a bar across the street, and he gave me a pass for five free drinks for staying strong under pressure.)

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It’s Not That Commie-plicated

, , , , | Working | June 24, 2018

(My dad is Korean-American, and due to his job, he works with a lot of temporary or in-training employees. Because many of them are white, my dad experiences a lot of low-key racism. He doesn’t mind because a lot of it is due to ignorance rather than malice. He is training with a new temp on their first day.)

Temp: “So, you’re Chinese?”

Dad: “No, I’m Korean.”

Temp: “So, you’re a commie?”

Dad: “No, I just said I’m Korean. South Korean.”

Temp: “So, you’re a commie?”

(This went on for a good two weeks. My dad couldn’t bring himself to fire this guy and endured the stupid, long rants about communism. Eventually, it all came to a head one day when the temp realized the equipment my dad used was made in China. The temp went crazy and began viciously kicking and punching the equipment. The police were called and the temp was arrested, ultimately destroying over $5000 of equipment.)

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Running Out Of Ram

, , , , , | Friendly | June 23, 2018

(I am the customer, standing in line at the checkout. The next thing I know I get rammed really hard by a grocery cart from an elderly customer that comes up behind me.)

Me: “Excuse me. Please be more careful and don’t do that again.”

Customer: “MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!” *rams me again*

Me: *loudly* “You need to stop that now!

Customer: “Move! Go faster! I don’t have time to waste waiting for your a** to get checked out!” *rams me yet again*

Me: *grabbing her cart so she can’t hit me again, I lean in, giving her my nastiest look* “If you hit me with your cart again, I am going to take all of your groceries and shove them right up your a**!”

(The customer looks a little frightened, then huffs and stalks off.)

Cashier: “WOW!”

Me: “I know. That was unbelievable, wasn’t it?”

Cashier: “She comes in here at least once a week and does the same thing to whoever is in front of her; you are the first one to ever stand up to her!”

Me: “I guess she will think twice about ramming someone with her cart again.”

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Motorpsycho

, , , , | Friendly | June 22, 2018

(My family lives in a typically quiet residential neighborhood. However, one of our neighbors owns a motorcycle, and feels that it is entirely appropriate to race the motorcycle up and down the various streets, gunning the engine as loudly as he can, at any time of day. He’s not going anywhere in particular, just driving around in loops and up and down the streets. One day, our family is having an outdoor barbecue in our front yard when we hear the motorcyclist coming from around the corner. Right as he does, a plastic bag that has blown away from the party suddenly gets caught by the breeze and spins up into the air in front of the motorcycle. He swerves, and ends up skidding into the drainage ditch on the far side of the street. Several of the adults run to help, including my mother.)

Mother: “Oh, my gosh! Are you all right?”

Motorcyclist: “F*** OFF, C***!”

(He tries to stand up and take a swing at her, forcing her to step back, before he suddenly falls down and grabs his leg.)

Motorcyclist: “F****** b****! Look what you did! F***!”

(He continued swearing, even after 911 was called, right up until an ambulance showed up. When it did, he tried to get up again and hobbled away, swearing some more the entire time. Since then, we haven’t heard him revving around on his motorcycle, at all. Honestly, I rather hope he had to sell it to cover his hospital bills. Serves him right.)

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Acting Like The First Three Letters From “Assume”

, , , , , | Friendly | June 20, 2018

(I’m walking my dog in the park, when I get hit in the back of my head. I turn around.)

Woman: “NEVER ASSUME, YOU BI— Oh, wrong person.”

(She then trots away like nothing happened. I am standing there in shock of the spontaneous attack.)

Me: “Did she just assume I was someone else, and then yell at me for assuming?”

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