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Bad boss and coworker stories

Her Mind Is Completely Scrambled

| Working | December 18, 2012

(My stepmother and I frequently eat at a very popular family restaurant chain that has been around longer than either one of us have been alive. We’ve both been customers of the chain since we were infants, so we are very familiar with their menu.)

Stepmother: “I’ll have the [breakfast name] with eggs over-easy.”

Waitress: “…Eggs what?”

Stepmother: “Over-easy.”

Waitress: “We can’t do that.”

Stepmother: “What do you mean you can’t do that? I’ve been getting them that way for nearly fifty years!”

Waitress: *sighs* “Let me check with the kitchen…”

(She is gone for a long time and finally returns.)

Waitress: “Yeah… we can’t do that. We don’t have an over-easy button.”

Stepmother: “I come here at least once a week. I know you can cook eggs over-easy. I get them all the time. What does a button have to do with anything?”

Waitress: “We don’t know how to cook them without the button.”

Stepmother: “You fry them on one side, then flip them over and fry them for a few seconds on the other side.”

Waitress: “Well, we can try…”

(The waitress comes back later and puts down a plate of hard-fried eggs.)

Me: “Haven’t people been frying eggs since cave-men did it on hot rocks?!”

(The next time we came back to the restaurant, the waitress was gone.)

Do You Want To Teller Or Should I

| Working | December 18, 2012

(I work for a beer and wine distribution company as a draft tech. This takes place at one of my stops while I am cleaning some beer lines. Two bartenders are working, one of them talking to the other about her paycheck.)

Bartender #1: “I wish I didn’t get off so late this week. I really need to go to the bank and deposit my check but I’m too tired to go after my shift.”

Bartender #2: “Why not go on your lunch break?”

Bartender #1: “Because if I do that, by the time I get back, I won’t have time to eat anything.”

(I overhear her problem and speak up.)

Me: “What bank do you use?”

Bartender #1: “Bank of America, why?”

Me: “Do you have a smartphone? They have an app that lets you take a picture of your check and deposit it that way.”

Bartender #1: “Oh wow, that’s great! Thanks a bunch!”

Bartender #2: “That’s cool. I wonder when they’ll make it so you can deposit cash that way?”

(I simply stare at her, hoping the lightbulb will go off.)

Bartender #1: “Seriously?”

Bartender #2: “What?”

Sticking It To The Miso-ji-stic

| Working | December 17, 2012

(A cashier at a video game store has been giving me a hard time for being a girl trying to buy several games, including using the phrase “get back in the kitchen.” My little brother, only 5 but incredibly smart, has been watching all this for over five minutes. He then interrupts me.)

Brother: *smiles innocently* “Hey mister, can I tell you something?”

Cashier: “Sure thing, kid.”

Brother: “You need to shut the f*** up and stop being a miso-ji-stic (misogynistic) a**butt who tells the local Mario Kart champion to go back in the kitchen, whatever that means! Check out the games before she blue-shells your a** to Chicago and back!”

Cashier: *turns red and shuts up*

(Speechless, the cashier checks out the games in record time while refusing to make eye contact with me. The cashier was gone a week later.)

Missed Opportunities

| Working | December 17, 2012

(I’m currently on the line with a male representative. Please note that I am female.)

Representative: “Can you please state your name for me?”

Me: “Yes, it’s [name].”

Representative: “Thank you, Mrs. [name]. Let me look into your account for you.”

Me: “Okay, cool, but it’s Miss, not Mrs. I’m not married.”

Representative: “Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

Me: “Me too.”

Bureau-crazy, Part 4

| Working | December 17, 2012

(When my son was 18 months old, I went to the passport office to request a passport for him. At that time, the rule was that a doctor needed to validate the identity of the person and certify that he knew the person for two years. I’m at the security guard desk who’s checking my documents.)

Guard: “Who signed the picture?”

Me: “[Doctor’s name], a surgeon.”

Guard: “How long has that doctor known the person?”

Me: “Well, my son is 18 months old, so 18 months.”

Guard: “You need someone who knows the person for two years.”

Me: “Well, it’s impossible. My son is 18 months old.”

Guard: “You need to find someone that knows your son for at least two years.”

Me: *giving up* “Okay, then. Dr. [name] has known my son for two years.”

Guard: “Okay, go on to stall #2!”