Customer: “I’m looking for… the… uh… white broccoli?”
I have an idea and show her the cauliflower.
Customer: “Yes, that’s it! Thank you!”
Me: “Happy to help!”
Customer: “Wait, I also need the… uh… mini cabbages?”
I show her the Brussels sprouts.
Customer: “Amazing! You really know your stuff!”
Fun customer, but maybe she needs to make a list?
A regular comes in with her mom.
The regular was always so nice, so it was easy to be patient with her mom’s high-strung attitude, ordering a skinny hazelnut something or other latte.
They have a seat, and a few minutes later, I️ bring them their drinks. As I️ return to the bar, the mom calls back out for me:
Regular’s Mom: “Uhm, I️ ordered a latte. This has coffee in it.”
Me: “Yes, ma’am, that’s a [whatever the particulars of her order were] latte.”
Regular’s Mom: *Condescending.* “No, I️ ordered a latte. This has coffee in it.”
Me: “Yes, it is a latte. It has espresso and milk.”
I️ was confused, because she kept insisting that she wanted a latte, but was mad that there was espresso in her drink. I️ promised to remake it, and as I️ started to (not really knowing what to do), the daughter ran up and explained:
Regular: “My mom usually gets a steamer—” *Milk, flavor, that’s all.* “—and has this same problem everywhere.”
Me: “Maybe because she’s ordering… a latte.”
Regular: *Long suffering sigh.* “I know…”
In a former job, I had a colleague who, despite being properly educated, with a master’s degree and all the shenanigans, had a very limited functional vocabulary when it was about work. I don’t know if it was laziness or something else, but everything was “the thing”.
Normally, we were able to manage our interaction and actually understand what “the thing” was, but one day we were swamped with work, being the last day of a deadline for which we had a lot of administration to do, filling in and submitting forms with no moment to breathe. And this colleague calls me from their desk, just behind mine.
Colleague: “[My Name], any update on the thing?”
Me: “What thing?”
Colleague: “The thing, about the thing.”
Me: “I can’t get what you mean. Can you be more specific?”
Colleague: “You know, the thing for the thing, we had to do this thing, but we were waiting for thing from thing. Has it been done?”
Having lost already enough focus, I stood up, picked up a dictionary from the little bookshelf in our office, put it on their desk, and told them:
Me: “I know no things and can’t run after things right now. When you have found the words, I am at my desk.”
I might have overreacted a tad, and they were visibly taken aback by my reaction, but seriously, how do you expect me to understand anything if everything is a thing?
A new hire hurries over to me.
New Hire: “Hey, [My Name], can you help me? I have an old lady who is looking for Iteb vinegar.”
Me: “Iteb? Is that a brand?”
New Hire: “I don’t know! I can’t find it.”
Me: “Wait, little old lady? Wears sunglasses indoors? Crazy pink lipstick?”
New Hire: “Uh… yeah?”
I walk over with the new hire to see a familiar regular.
Me: “Hello, Mrs. [Customer Name]. We’ve been through this before. When you’re cooking up a recipe, the book says one tablespoon of vinegar. “1tb” means one tablespoon. Please try to remember that for next time.”
Regular: “Oh, yes! I remember you telling me now! Well, then I guess any old vinegar will do! Thank you!”
She goes off on her merry way.
New Hire: “How did you know it was her?”
Me: “She’s a regular that does this a lot. She always dresses the same, is always cooking something new, and is always confused with the recipes. Last week, someone was asking if we sold kegs of potatoes, and I knew it was her because before I even saw her, I knew a keg would be a KG, kilogram.”
We laughed a little, and the new hire said he’d know how to handle any future requests from this odd but nice customer.
A few years back, I had a customer come up and ask for something in Italian. I worked in a predominantly Italian area, but I don’t speak Italian. About 85% of the staff don’t. I politely tell the elderly man:
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t speak Italian.:
Customer: *Enraged in broken English.* “Where da h*** do you think you work to not speak Italian!?”
Me: “A grocery store in Toronto, sir.”
That was not the end, though.
He then tore through the store to find someone with whom he could converse. About ten minutes later, he came back with the bakery manager.
Bakery Manager: “He wants [very specific type of pasta sauce].”
I go hunting, and sure enough, I can’t find it. I go back.
Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have that pasta sauce.”
He looks to the bakery manager, who is now our translator. What he told her was that I didn’t really look for it. The aisle I went into was right in front of my cash register. They watched me the entire time. I apologize to him for not having it and advised him to talk to the grocery manager to see if he can get it in for him.
His response to this?
A few choice words and then saying:
Customer: “Where da h*** do you think you are to not have… [super specific Italian pasta sauce]!?”
Me: “A grocery store in Toronto, sir.”
He stormed out after that.
