I am at a popular state-wide gas station chain to buy myself a drink for the road. The store is pretty busy, but there is only one cashier working. By the time I pick my drink out and get in line to pay, the line is five or six people long. The person at the front of the line has a fairly large order.

The cashier repeatedly presses the button to call for her coworker to come get on a register. My dad works in one of these gas stations, so I know that this releases a very long, loud buzzing sound in the stock area. It’s pretty hard to miss, and you can even hear it a bit in the front of the store. Still, there’s no sign of the other employee. At this point, the cashier and customers are starting to go from frustrated to concerned.

Finally, the cashier pulls out her phone and tries calling the employee, but there’s still no response. At this point, a customer ducks out of line and charges into the freezer — an employee-only area, but it’s not like anyone is going to stop him — and emerges a few seconds later, fuming and dragging the second employee by the arm. The cashier proceeds to yell at him. It turns out he was listening to music with earbuds in. Why he didn’t answer his phone, he doesn’t say.

The line splits in half, and I end up second or so in line at the new cashier’s register. He doesn’t speak to any customer and, once my drink is in its bag, proceeds to throw it at me. Too exhausted to do anything about it, I turn around and leave.

As I walk out the door, I hear the guy say, “Can I go back to the freezer, now?” My only regret is that I didn’t stick around to hear the other cashier’s response. A week later, a “Help Wanted” sign showed up on their door… I wonder why!

(My cousin and his family are at a restaurant they’ve visited before. My cousin’s wife is a nurse. Their young daughter is deathly allergic to nuts and some legumes, including peanuts, so the cousin’s wife carefully vets any place they eat for allergy compliance. This restaurant has always passed with flying colors, so she’s not terribly worried.)

Server: *turning to the daughter* “And what would you like, sweetie?”

Daughter: *orders her food* “And can I have a chocolate shake, please? I’m allergic to nuts and peanuts, so can you make sure it’s safe?”

Server: “Of course!” *writes “NO NUTS” and underlines it*

Daughter: “Thank you!”

(A while later, the food comes.)

Daughter: “Mom, can you please hand me a spoon?”

Wife: “Sure!” *grabs a spoon, then swipes a bit of the chocolate shake* “Food tax!”

(She takes the bite, and instantly, her eyes go wide. Before she can even swallow, she snatches the shake away from her daughter and starts waving frantically for their server.)

Server: “What’s the matter?”

Wife: “This has peanut butter in it!”

Server: “What?! Are you sure?”

Wife: “It’s loaded! Smell it yourself!”

(The server took a whiff, then grabbed the shake and ran to get her manager. The manager apologized frantically, and then went to find the source of the mix-up. It turns out, the guy making the shake had misread, “NO NUTS,” as, “ADD NUTS,” and threw some peanut butter in. He was reprimanded, the shake was remade following allergy protocols, and the little girl got her shake, but not until after her mother had tested that one, too. She never steals bites of her children’s desserts, but, for some reason, she did that day. And we’re all very grateful.)

(I’m sitting in the break room having a drink of water when one of the teenagers from the dairy department walks in.)

Teenager: “Again! You always drink water!”

Me: “…”

Teenager: “Don’t you know how to drink soda?”

Me: “I don’t imagine the required skill set differs greatly from that of drinking water.”

(A restaurant has a promotional mushroom burger. I am easily recognized as a foreigner by looks, and my Turkish is still not perfect. All conversation is in Turkish.)

Me: “I would like to have the mushroom burger.”

Worker: “No problem. It will take some time to prepare it.”

Me: “No problem.”

(I pay and step aside to wait for my food. Just two minutes later, a guy who knows the cashier comes up to him.)

Guy: “I want a mushroom burger. But I am in a hurry!”

Worker: “It will take a while. This woman ordered one, and we prepare it freshly!”

(The guy looks me up and down.)

Guy: “Just give me hers! I am in hurry!”

(I don’t say anything because I am not sure if I understand all of it properly. Instead, I look at the guy’s receipt and I see that indeed we have ordered the same item. After ten minutes or so, the food is ready and I go to grab it, but instead, the guy snatches it.)

Worker: “It is something else!”

(I take the guy’s receipt, which he leaves behind, and say:)

Me: “Then, why is the same item written on the receipt? At least don’t lie!”

Worker: “Uh… I am sorry. I didn’t know that you would understand and notice it!”

(I never went there again. Shortly after, the location closed or moved away.)

Related:
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 3
There Is Mushroom For Improvement, Part 2
There Is Mushroom For Improvement

(I am buying a bottle of a well-known brand of carbonated water, among other things. The cashier is probably in her 40s or 50s.)

Cashier: *as she’s ringing me up* “How is this different from regular water?”

Me: “It’s just carbonated water.”

Cashier: “Oh, okay. What flavor?”

Me: “No flavor, just water.”

Cashier: “So, it’s just water?”

Me: “Carbonated water. It was served a lot when I lived in Germany, and I really liked it.”

Cashier: “You lived in Germany? Wasn’t that hard?”

Me: “It was pretty fun, actually.”

Cashier: “But they didn’t speak English, did they?”

Me: “A lot of them did, but I also learned a lot of German over there.”

Cashier: “Oh, that sounds so hard. Whenever I hear those languages on TV, it just sounds like noise. I don’t know how anyone understands it.”

Me: *taking my receipt and slowly trying to detach myself from the conversation* “Well, the Germans manage.”

Related:
Germaniac, Part 6
Germaniac, Part 5
Germaniac, Part 4