(We are sitting down for pizza in an area of London that is notorious for its hipsters. This usually means some weird options in restaurants, such as cauliflower cheese pizza. We are ready to order.)

Waiter: “This is one of our most popular pizzas, made with our best horse cheese.”

Friend: “I’m… sorry?”

Waiter: “It comes with premium toppings, including horse cheese.”

(We look at each other before looking back at the waiter.)

Friend: “Could we order it with regular cheese?”

Waiter: “I’m not sure; let me check…”

(He walks into the kitchen and calls out loudly for the chef, and pretty much the whole restaurant heard what came next.)

Waiter: “Hey, can we do the pizzas without horse cheese?”

Chef: “What the f*** is horse cheese?!”

(The restaurant LOST it! Apparently the staff had been playing a prank on the waiter, but no customers had thought to ask about the ‘horse cheese’ up until then! I wonder if it’s really a thing, or if some people will just eat anything without question!)

(My husband, toddler, and I are staying in a hotel adjacent to a well-known party street. It is about eight pm on a weeknight, and the area is starting to get busy but not crazy yet, so we decide to walk over to a nearby pizza shop to get a few slices to take back to the hotel. Again, we are stone-cold sober and have a toddler with us.)

Me: “Could I get a [Slice #1] and a [Slice #2], please?”

Pizza Girl: “Sure thing.” *Grabs [Slice #2] to put in oven, but not [Slice #1]*

Me: “Oh, I need a [Slice #1] too, please.”

Pizza Girl: *annoyed* “I got it.” *grabs a [Slice #1] to put in the oven and says to Cashier* “[Slice #1] and a [Slice #2].”

Cashier: “That’ll be [amount].”

Me: “Oh, I’m paying for [Husband], too.” *gesture to my husband and toddler, who are still standing by the pizza display and have not yet ordered*

Cashier: *annoyed* “It’s [same amount].”

Me: *confused* “For four slices?”

Cashier: “Wait, what?” *turns to Pizza Girl who is getting my slices out of the oven* “She’s getting four slices?”

(It finally dawns on Pizza Girl that my husband might like to order, and she takes his order while Cashier rings me up for all four slices. Pizza Girl then hands us each two flimsy paper plates with huge slices of pizza on them, which we’ll obviously need to somehow manage to walk somewhere with while holding a toddler, as there is no dining area.)

Husband: “Could we get a couple extra plates, please? We need to walk back to our hotel with these.”

Pizza Girl: “Oh, would you like boxes?”

Me: *wondering why they wouldn’t think to offer these before* “Yes, please.”

(Seriously, if four slices of pizza was that much trouble for them, I’d hate to see what a mess that place is at two am!)

(I work at a small convenience store in my fairly rural town. It’s a really casual work environment, especially on this Sunday afternoon where we haven’t seen anyone for the last 20 minutes. I’m on shift with the owner and a new girl on her second shift.)

New Girl: “It’s so hot! I’d kill for an ice cream right now.”

Me: “Mmm, yeah. Great idea. What type? I’ll go grab some.”

Manager: “I’d love a Cornetto.”

New Girl: “Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t have any cash with me, anyway.”

Manager: “Cash? Hun, you don’t have to pay.”

New Girl: “But—”

Manager: “None of my employees have paid for food since I opened this shop. You’re not going to start.”

New Girl: “But—”

Manager: “Help yourself. Just don’t steal smokes or anything, yeah?”

New Girl: “Are you sure?”

Manager: “Yes!”

New Girl: “Uh…”

Manager: “Oh, just eat the god-d*** ice-cream!”

(I work in a store that has a tech counter. One day, while I’m working the register, I slip into the office to change my walkie-talkie, as mine has died. I overhear this gem between one of my managers and a tech while in there.)

Manager: *checking old records in the computer* “We can’t do anything for him. He hasn’t made a purchase here since 2013. That’s why he doesn’t have any coupons.”

Tech: “Well, can we give him a manager coupon? The guy’s about to blow his pacemaker.”

(The manager laughs so hard she almost chokes on the soda she’s sipping.)

Tech: “Seriously. I don’t want to stand too close to him; I think his blood pressure’s getting so high the mic in the walkie might just be enough to set it off.”

(I had to get back on register. I have no idea if the tech convinced her to swing a coupon.)

(It is many years ago, when debit/credit cards are not used nearly as much as nowadays, and nearly all transactions are in cash. My wife and I are on vacation and have stopped between home and our destination for lunch. We have eaten at the buffet, and I am standing in line to check out. I noticed someone, who looks like a manager, running the register when we came in. He is still at the checkout desk, but he is taking the tickets at a small cashbox and making change from it. I think this is a little strange, during the rush hour with about 5-10 people in the checkout line all the time, but figure it is none of my business. After waiting in line for a few minutes, I come to the front.)

Manager: “How was your meal?”

Me: “Fine, thank you.”

Manager: “Great! Your ticket is [amount].”

Me: *handing him a twenty* “Here you go.”

(The manager takes the money, makes my change from the cashbox, and spikes my ticket on a different spike than the one next to the register, but again I’m thinking “Not my problem.”)

Manager: “Here is your change, and come again!”

Me: “Thanks!”

(I move aside so he can serve the next customer. This is a rather un-assuming fortyish man, wearing a suit, and who looks like your average accountant or middle-level manager.)

Manager: “And how was your meal, sir?”

Customer: “Fine!” *hands over cash and ticket*

(The manager makes change from the cash box, spikes ticket on the spike not at the cash register, which has several tickets spiked but nowhere near as many as the one next to the cashbox, and hands the change over to the man:)

Manager: “Here is your change, and thank you. Come again!”

(Customer takes his change, puts it in his wallet, opens his suit jacket and places his wallet in an inner pocket, and pulls out a small leather folder which he opens and shows to the manager:)

Customer: “I’m Agent [Customer] of the Georgia Department of Revenue. I need to speak to whoever is in charge today. Right now, please.”

(I have been watching the entire thing, and I involuntarily start, my jaw falls open, and I get a look on my face which evidently says “Busted!” to whoever is watching. The manager looks at the badge the agent is holding out, and deflates like a balloon. The agent turns to look at me, realizing that I have figured out what is going on, and grins a grin that just screams “Some days I just LOVE my job!” I look at him, grin in return, and do my best to make it out the door before bursting out in laughter.)

Wife: “What was that all about?”

Me: “I’ll explain in the car, but I wonder if he or they were skimming just from paying taxes or from the company as well!”

(My wife just looked at me in puzzlement, and I spent the next several miles of our trip explaining how the restaurant was shutting down the register during the busiest part of the day, doing cash only, and keeping the receipts without paying sales tax, while still charging it to their customers. Either someone reported them, or they just had the bad luck of a revenue agent eating lunch there and catching them red-handed!)