When The Sandwich Gets Extra Consequence Sauce

When I worked at a sandwich place in high school, there was this guy who came in with his wife almost every day. He was a complete jerk and talked to you like you were an idiot. Not because he was in a bad mood, but because he thought it was funny to be an a** to kids working fast-food jobs.

One day, I had enough.

Customer: “Make sure you get my sandwich right this time. This is the best job you dropouts are ever gonna have, so don’t f*** it up.”

I took the sandwich I was in the middle of making and threw it into the garbage can.

Me: “Oh, just f*** off.”

Customer: “You can’t talk to customers that way!”

Me: “I just did. F*** off.”

Customer: “I’ve got the owner’s number, and I know your name!”

Me: *Pushing my name tag forward.* “Make sure you spell it right when you call him.”

He did call the owner, right in front of me. He dropped my name and tried to get me fired, but ended up with a very sour face and stormed out.

Later, I found out what happened from the owner. He’d said:

Owner: “If [My Name] blew up on you like that, then I know it was probably deserved. You must have been the a**hole of all a**holes. Please don’t return.”

Customer: “You allow your people to talk to customers that way?!”

Owner: “Not customers, just you. It takes a lot to get [My Name] even mildly irritated, so she wouldn’t do something like that for no reason. I’m going to hang up now, and I expect you to leave. I’m going to call the store right now to make sure you’ve done that.” *Click.*