What. The. F***.

(I work in a deli, and the new girl gets a call about party trays; she hands the phone to me.)

Me: “Okay, sir. Sorry about the wait. Do you know which tray you want?”

Male Caller: “I just need some information about party trays.”

Me: “All right, what would you like to know?”

Male Caller: “How many should I order for a bachelorette party with eight women for six hours? They’re hiring me to be the entertainment, and they’re paying me $300 to be a garbage disposal. They said they’ll go out and get more if I don’t bring enough. Would you?”

Me: “Would I… What?”

Male Caller: “If you were paying me $300 to be the entertainment and garbage disposal, how long do you think it would last? I want to know what I’m in for. They’re gonna put me in a dress and makeup and tie me up and feed me the leftovers to see how much I can hold. Would you?”

Me: “No, I wouldn’t. Sir… I–”

Male Caller: “No, if you were paying me $300 to be entertainment and the garbage disposal and put me in a dress and tie me up so I couldn’t get out… They’re going to pay me a $150 dollar bonus to take a vacuum cleaner and hook it up to me and vacuum. I want to know what I’m in for.”

Me: “Sir, with all due respect–”

Male Caller: “Would you?”

Me: “Let me transfer you to my manager. He might be able to help you.”

Male Caller: *click*