The customer is not always right! Here are 25 times the customer was totally, completely in the wrong and the worker called them out on it. These stories are for anyone who has everyone worked in the food industry and dealt with some real
Good Guy Manager
“Managers that stand up for you are the best. I was working at Starbucks once, and this lady was being a complete b—h to a co-worker of mine. Telling her she was stupid, etc.
So, I took $4 (whatever the total of her drink had been) out of my register, walked around the counter, took the coffee cup out of her hand, handed her the money, and said, ‘Please go somewhere else for your coffee, today and in the future.’
People in line clapped, I felt like a hero, but she started saying that she’d ‘have my job’ and I was little nervous. Sure enough, she wrote to Starbucks. Word got to my district manager, He called the store manager (who I’d already told)- they asked me (and the co-worker) about the incident, and I got a positive write-up for sticking up for their employee”
Choice Is Yours
” I work at a bar, and a customer came in without his ID. I told him he’d have to leave. He screwed around for about 20 minutes pretending to leave and slinking back in with his friends. I got fed up after a while, and confronted him in front of his friends, telling him that if he didn’t leave, his entire party would be kicked out.
He finally left… and returned about half an hour later, with his ID. He’d gone all the way home to get it.
I checked it, thanked him, and said, ‘What can I get for you?’ He said, ‘Bud Light.’ I handed him the Bud Light. He mumbled, ‘You didn’t have to be such a b—h earlier.’
I looked him in the eye and said, ‘Pardon?’ He repeated himself, louder: ‘You didn’t have to be such a B—H earlier.’ I grabbed the beer out of his hand and held it up in front of his face.
I said calmly, but somewhat loudly, ‘Look – you can call me a b—h, or you can order a Bud Light. BUT YOU CAN’T DO BOTH. What’s it gonna be?’ He looked around at everyone staring at him, mumbled that he’d like the Bud Light, and tipped me $5 on that one beer. He never sassed me again”
Burn Level: Nuclear
“I used to work for a independent coffee shop and one xmas eve, 15 minutes after we closed a cantankerous old lady started banging on the door. You see, she needed coffee beans and though we had cashed out and she was being a total b—h I decided ’tis the season and let her in. While I was weighing out the beans, she noticed my sleeve (tattoos) and said, ‘How are you going to explain that to your grandchildren?’ in the most obnoxious way possible.
My reply: Actually I was just diagnosed with cervical cancer, so I’ll never be able to have children. The look on her face was AMAZING! I didn’t get an apology but the shame I saw was enough to make me happy”
Someone Should’ve Told Her That A Long Time Ago
“When I was a server, I was that server that everyone claims they would always be if they were a server. I filled up glasses when they needed to be refilled without asking. I brought out a bowl of lemons if you asked for lemons. If you wanted extra ice, you got a whole extra glass full of ice. Hell, I was even OCD enough to write down every order even thought I could easily memorize it and get it right.
On one particularly busy night I’m working a party of about 20 people. It’s a Friday night and the kitchen is slammed. Everything was going smooth I thought until I bring out the drinks and salads. There is one idiot douche b—h that starts off saying I didn’t bring her anything right (wrong dressing, drink had a lemon, too much ice… etc). I play the gracious and apologetic server correcting the issue despite knowing she is wrong.
The meal comes out and she explodes into a tirade of expletives about how I can’t seem to do anything right and what a f–k up I am. I proceed to congratulate her on the fine example she is setting for the kids at the table on how to treat another human being, and what classy language she was using.
I then proceeded to show her where I wrote down everything she asked for, the type of salad, the dressing she wanted, how she wanted it on the side, pulled the straw I gave her from under her bread plate and told her that I did give her one. I told her how when she heard that her sister had ordered another dish and she told her sister that she wanted that dish instead she maybe should have simply asked for me to change the order instead of being a b—h.
Then I said if I was truly a ‘f–k up’ as she claimed and maybe next time she would do a better job of making sure the server was not in earshot when she says something like that. I then told her that I would go and have the kitchen fix the meal she really wanted, instead of the one she ordered, and that it would take about 10 minutes before it was ready.
Needless to say, the whole table was quiet except for her father who simply said, ‘Honey, It’s about time someone called you out on your bulls–t.’
The old man gave me a $100.00 tip when he paid for the meal, strong handshake, and a thanks”
Oh You Want ‘Fresh’
“I worked at chick-fil-a in high school. One night I was closing and a woman comes through the drive thru and orders a single chick-fil-a sandwich, nothing unusual. Now it is worth noting that in most fast food restaurants their is a speaker in the kitchen that plays whatever the drive thru speaker picks up.
Back to the woman: ‘I want a chick-fil-a sammich, and I want it fresh. I don’t want it heated up or redipped. AH WANT A FRESH SAMMICH. U HEAR ME? FRESH. OR I. WILL. SEND. IT. BACK.’
Now the poor girl on the headset tells her the total and the woman comes around. Having heard from the kitchen what I just heard I was going up front to see this hellion for myself, and possibly be back up for the poor girl at the window should she need it. They pull up and gets handed a sandwich almost immediately. I had left the kitchen, which meant that her order wasn’t going through to the other brainless minions in the back don’t care. Before I could finish my thought and make my mouth move she hands her the sandwich.
What happens next is quite possibly the funniest thing I ever saw unfold in my (embarrassingly long) 2.5 year tenure there. Outside the window is a late model 4 door Buick sedan. There is a middle aged couple in the front seat in church dress staring straight forward. Their (who I’m going to guess) daughter was in the back seat. The whole back seat. She snatches the bag and rips open the wrapper the sandwich is in and stabs it with her 3 inch acrylic nails. ‘IT AIN’T FRESH, MAKE ‘NOTHER ONE’ and throws it back through the window.
At this point I step up to the window (I’m wearing an apron, which must have had some effect), tell her we apologize, and that it will take about ten minutes to make her a fresh one as we had to set back up all of the breading materials and cook a new batch. It was ten minutes to close and this wasn’t going to go over well with my coworkers.
Here’s some more things worth noting: 1) When you stab something with an acrylic nail you can’t tell how hot it is 2) The reason chick-fil-a is so expensive is because everything is made on site. The only things that are frozen are fries. The chicken shows up looking like raw chicken and is hand made. Same with salads, fruit salads, wraps, sides, everything.
With ten minutes to go I decided to make this work for me. I grabbed a new bun. Waited ten minutes, and put a fresh bun on the oldest sandwich we had and gave it to her. Turned off the box and locked the door in the process. Gave her the sandwich and her a– limped away in the back seat of her parents car. Just goes to show, f–k people”
Small Town Smackdown
“My folks used to own a Tastee Freez in South Carolina and I worked in it most summers as a teenager.
Since it was a small town, everyone knew each other and most went to the same church. One Sunday night, one of the ladies from church called in at about five minutes after ten and tried to order a 20 piece chicken nugget (never even mind that she called them McNuggets,). I informed her that we closed at ten and the grill and fryers were already cleaned and closed for the night, she got irate with me and started yelling in my ear about how she knew the owners of the place and she was going to get me fired and did she know who I was talking to.
I calmly replied that yes, Mrs. Greene, I knew exactly who I was talking to, since my parents and I lived right across the street from her and she had asked us in church that morning what time we closed for the night.
We were never on speaking terms again”
“My family and I have a restaurant in a small middle of nowhere town. One day a lady came in with a group of friends. She ordered a french onion soup.
We make it ourselves every morning from scratch, no instant powdered mixes etc. As she’s eating it, I see her start to make faces. So I walk over and ask her if everything is alright with the soup. She goes on to tell me that its fine and she did not want anything else instead. Anyways time for payment comes up, all the girls pay, had a lovely time and they’re making small talk, just over all good vibe going around.
The onion soup lady walks up to me and tells me she isn’t paying for her soup. Well WTF- So I calmly ask her, why not. She proceeds to tell me that she didn’t enjoy it, even though she ate all of it, and that it lacked salt and she couldn’t justify paying for it since it wasn’t up to her standards. So I was like ‘Oh well you must have had a lot of onion soups around town then right?; She responded yes and that so and so place does it so much better and that ours is probably made with powdered stock etc.
I inform her that I worked at the kitchen of SO and SO restaurant and that I was sorry to say they use ALL powdered soups. Anyways she stormed out and her friends were really embarrassed. She is now banned for being a waste of time. She did try to come back for lunch a few weeks after. I met her at the door and told her, ‘I’m sorry but I can’t justify having you as a customer'”
“In college I worked at the local bar & grill. Since I was slow as hell in the kitchen I ended up working the register and taking care of the dining room. There was a regular who liked to order food, get sloshed, and then forget about his order. Every now and then he’d remember it (1 hour later) and get pissed because it was cold.
He’d always threaten to call the owner, blah, blah, blah. And we’d usually just reheat it in the kitchen. Finally after a particularly grueling night he decided to remember his order about 30 minutes after the kitchen closed. He decides to pull his normal s–t. This time I decide it’s time for him to put his money where his mouth is: mid-tirade I turn away from him and hand him the headset for the phone (the phone was behind the counter).
He looks at me stunned. And says, ‘What the f–k is this.’ I look at him and say, ‘You said you wanted to call the owner. So we’re gonna call him and see how happy he is to talk to your drunk a– at 2:00 AM.’ He muttered something, threw the phone at me, and walked off…without his food.
Next day I tell the owner about everything that happened. During my shift this jacka– regular (now sober) comes up and starts to apologize to me (blah, blah, I’d been drinking, etc). The owner walks up before the guy can finish and tells him basically that he’s sick of hearing complaints from the staff and to get the f–k out and never come back.
Nothing better than watching an alcoholic realize he’s gotta find a new bar (in a town with only a handful of bars)”
So You Like Wine…
“I was waiting tables on a charter boat (dinner boat). We had a full-boat charter of these French doctors who were in San Francisco for a convention of some sort. They’d brought their own wine and we were supposed to make it last the whole four hours of their trip but it was starting to run out even before we served their meal, so we were instructed to pour half-glasses to reduce waste.
Well, I’d gone most of the way round this table of ten or so, and I had poured a half a glass for each of the diners and had to open a new bottle. I began to pour for this Frenchy. With a new bottle, I had to hold the mouth of it close to the glass so it wouldn’t glug all over the table, and when I got it down there, the guy had his hand on his glass and hooked a finger around the mouth of the bottle, which got him a nice round of French ‘Au-hau-HAU’ laughter from the rest of the table. Obviously he wanted a full glass.
Well, I got toward the top of the glass and he released his finger from the bottle, at which point I turned the bottle completely upside-down and poured the rest of the wine out, overflowing his glass and covering a large portion of the table, while shouting ‘Sacré Bleu!’. The French were too shocked to do anything; it was the Maginot Line all over again.
I knew I was going to be fired as soon as we got back to the dock, so I spent the rest of the trip in the wheelhouse with the Captain. When we got to the dock, sure enough, the food and beverage manager fired me and to my surprise, the Captain hired me on the spot. I ended up being the first officer for the next three years- Everything went better than expected”
I Will Ruin You!
“I used to work at an amusement park, and between department transfers, I started in food which was by far, the worst of the 4 details (games, rides, pavilions).
My stand made funnel cakes and corndogs. The average wait time on a busy day could be upwards of 30 minutes in the sun, which I’ll admit sucks. It’s not any cooler in the stand slaving over a 450 degree fryer. Anyhow…
This guy comes up, orders 4 corndogs. I ring him up and ask him if he wants any ketchup or mustard brushed on. He declines. I take his money, and hand over four corndogs. His little girl bites into one and then tugs on daddies arm and says she wants mustard. I politely inform him that since she’s already bitten out of her food, we can’t brush it on; however if he’d head 50 steps to an adjacent building, he could skip the line and just grab some condiment packets.
Apparently this was unacceptable. Up until this point he was just a normal guy, suddenly, anger. ‘DO YOU KNOW WHO I WORK FOR?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM!?’
I tell him no. He then half-chuckles to himself and points out his pregnant wife sitting at a nearby table and then begrudges the time he spent in line. I again reassure him they will give him some mustard packets if he walks next door. He loses his s–t.
‘I’M THE DAMNED REGIONAL DERP FOR COKE IN THIS AREA, I WILL BUY AND SELL YOU KID’… This self-aggrandizing and demeaning talk towards me lasted a full 60 seconds or so. Then I told him, ‘We only carry Pepsi products’. He was flush with embarrassment and rage, anyone within earshot is laughing at him – to spite me (really his little girl) he didn’t go get mustard packets. He forever was known as MustardMan”
“During high school I worked at a burger king.
There was this one woman who would always come into drivethru during the afternoon and ask for a whopper jr. with extra onions. And I mean, a LOT of extra onions. And no matter how many we put in, she always came into the store and complained that there weren’t enough. Still, this was in the middle of the afternoon, so we didn’t care.
However, one day, we had four buses full of US Army enlistees at the store at the same time. (convoys of chartered buses would go by periodically, and they usually stopped at our store because the bus drivers knew my boss)
Now, these people were always the nicest, most respectful people you can possibly imagine, which was a welcome change after dealing with a–holes the whole day. They also always ordered a crapton of food (all king size, tons of double and triple whoppers, the whole nine yards.) My boss would always have me give them the ‘senior discount’ (15% off), and they enjoyed that immensely, because it said that they were getting a senior discount on their receipts.
Anyways, nice as the were, they strained our store to the limit because they ordered so much food. So we were almost literally going hammer and tongs to keep up, and then mean face woman comes into drivethru. My boss told me to just grab two handfuls of onions and put them on the sandwich, because she didn’t need a scene when we were as far behind as we were. I could barely close the f–ker because of the onions, but I managed it and we gave it to her.
Now remember, the store is completely full of US Army enlistees. They probably have not had fast food for weeks (I think they were going from boot camp to get their first assignments). And the line was out the door. So BFW pushes her way past all of these people, rudely shoving them out of her way, and comes up to the counter screaming that she didn’t have enough onions. My boss is pissed, so she takes the sandwich, hands it to me, and tells me to do whatever the hell I want with it.
I dumped the ENTIRE F–KING TUB of onions on this (probably about 1.5 LITERS of onions), and wrapped it up really, REALLY tight, and taped it shut (Note that the wrappers were somewhat elastic…). My boss hands it to BFW, and she opens it right on the counter to ‘make sure we have enough’. (Even though it’s like 6 times bigger than normal ?_?)
The thing f–king ASPLODED ALL OVER. SO freaking awesome. All the troops were trying not to laugh. One of their officers (a pretty quite young 1st Lt.) was waiting by the counter for his food, and finally he just gave up and started laughing his a– off. The troops took this as a cue, and she had about 250 troops all dying laughing at her. One of the best days of my high school life.
She didn’t come back for a month, and she never, EVER complained about not having enough onions”
Here’s The Manager!
“This is one that my friend did at a major restaurant franchise:
A man comes up to the register and orders a TON of food. The french fries were coming straight from the fryer, but there were still two minutes until they were finished. My friend told the man, ‘Here’s your food, but your french fries still have a couple of minutes until they’re done.’ Well, the guy goes off the wall, b—hing about how the service sucks, and how he’s in a major hurry and what bullsh–t this all is. My friend THEN says (tersely), ‘Well, now there’s only about 45 seconds left, and I will have them out fresh to you.’
Well the guy blows another gasket and says, ‘Hey, a–hole, let me speak to your manager!’
At this point my friend has had enough. He backs away from the counter, turns his back toward the customer and pauses for 5 seconds, then immediately turns back toward the customer with a huge, fake smile plastered on his face and he says, ‘I’m the manager. What can I do for you today sir?'”
You Want To Go There?
“I work at a Panera bread. Recently I had a man come in wearing his blue Comcast uniform, looked like a repair guy. He wanted a bowl of soup.
I rang it up; in a very pouty, annoying manner, he exclaims, ‘Quite a lot for just a BOWL OF SOUP.’ The only response I had was, ‘Quite a lot for slow internet THAT GOES DOWN ALL THE TIME’. He walked out in shame, no one was within listening distance other than him too hear what I had said”
“I work at a restaurant. Once this lady complained that she had cucumber instead of zucchini. I was pretty convinced it was a zucchini and she was pretty convinced it was a cucumber. So I told her to bite it – lo and behold it was a zucchini. About fifteen people were watching and she promptly left the restaurant and never came back”
NOT THE MILK!
“I worked at a concession stand for a children’s baseball park. It’s a large park (9 or so fields) and we get lots and lots of customers.
Having lots of customers we have to make things in large quantities and the quality isn’t especially swell. (it’s a concession stand not a restaurant).
Anyhow, it’s about 20 degrees out and people are ordering hot chocolate by about 5 cups at a time. There a only 2 of us are working (it’s funny how people magically get sick when the weather is s—ty.)
The process for making hot chocolate is putting an extremely large container of water in our extremely large microwave, and then stirring in an extremely large amount of coco powder. It’s nothing fancy, but it tasted pretty good all things considered.
Late in the day, I was working the register, and my co-worker is running around making everything. A lady come up to the side window, screaming at my co-worker about how he’s ruining the hot chocolate. My co-worker can’t hear her, seeing as how she’s yelling through a window. At a guy working around a lot of refrigerator fan among other things.
She finally comes to the front counter and tells me he’s ruining it.
Her: He’s going to ruin the milk! He’s going to ruin it in the microwave!
Me: There is no…
Her: HES GOING TO RUIN IT!
Me (pretending to get super pissed): DON’T F–KING RUIN THAT MILK!
Co-Worker: What milk?
Me (still yelling): THE F–KING HOT CHOCOLATE MILK!
Co-Worker (comes up to the front looking VERY confused): There is no dammed milk!
Me (to the lady): Hmm. I suppose we don’t use any milk
She left looking very scared to talk to us ever again”
Tell It To The Weather Channel
“My first job was at an ice cream shop as a general manager. It’s the south, we’re in the middle of a drought, and it’s 109°F with 100% humidity. A woman comes up and orders 4 hot fudge sundaes – to go. I have no doubt the girl who made the sundaes did a great job as always. But this woman who was on break from McDonald’s calls me about 15 minutes later.
‘My ice cream is melted! I have nothing but soup!’
‘I’m sorry about that, are you outside right now? I can make something new and bring it out so you don’t have to get back in line.’
‘No. I’m at WORK.’ She then relays the story of lunch break with coworkers and the 4 hot fudge sundaes.
‘I see. How long ago was this?’
‘I WAS JUST THERE.’
‘Did you have a cooler?’
‘NO! Are you SURE you’re the manager??’
‘Last time I deposited a paycheck I was. I’d really like to help you, what can I do to help?’
‘Our lunch is ruined, there’s nothing you can do!’
‘I sincerely apologize, I can make new sundaes and you can pick them up free of charge. I’ll even refund your last order.’
‘I’M NOT ON BREAK ANYMORE.’
[At this point my night crew is coming in for their shift and hanging in the back, where I am, waiting to clock in.]
‘All right ma’am. Let me see if I’m understanding. You ordered 4 hot fudge sundaes on the hottest day of the year, put them in a hot car for 15 minutes and expected the ice cream not to melt?’
[The entire crew starts laughing hysterically. I immediately lose my s–t and start giggling.]
‘ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME!?’
‘Ma’am I’m trying really hard not to, but can you at least see this from my point of view? You’ve refused a refund, you refused a remake, and you’re complaining about something that I have absolutely no control over. I assure you that my staff does everything in their power to make great desserts, but once the ice cream leaves the window, I can’t control the weather.’
‘I’m calling Corporate, click’“
It Will Be HOT!
“I was working at Hardees in high school, I had a customer complain of a cold burger during lunch. This was impossible as all of the meat during lunch was pulled directly off of the grill and made into sandwiches. It is impossible to have a cold burger.
I apologized and stated that we would get her a new burger. My buddy in the kitchen decided that the cold veggies are what caused the burger to be cold, not the meat, so he promptly threw it in the industrial strength microwave.
He told me about this after things slowed down, and I unfortunately made eye contact with the customer, she stared at me for 15 minutes. As she was leaving I learned that the microwave made the food hot enough to curdle the mayonnaise
Mental note: hot meat + cold vegetables =! cold burger”
Oh You -Know- Tommy
“I used to work at a restaurant chain that started about 15 or 20 years back and has about 15 stores in total. People all the time would complain and release their vague threat ‘I know Tommy! (The owner, guy who started the chain) Do I have to call him to get some good service?’
Such f–kng bulls–t from so many people, but we had to put up with it, because that’s what you do in the restaurant business.
But one time when this happened, Tommy was actually in the restaurant. He would come in once every couple months or so and just act like a regular customer, just to kinda evaluate how things were running from a non-owner perspective (of course everything magically went smoother for him than any other customer, imagine that).
Anyway, this lady (that had been a total jerk the entire night) starts complaining, talking about how her meal was cold or bad or some BS, even though she had powered through 4/5ths of it. She wants her money back for this atrocity! And then she drops the bombshell: ‘I know Tommy! He wouldn’t stand for this!’ The only thing was, Tommy was sitting almost directly behind her, and pretty obviously didn’t know her, and she didn’t recognize him.
After getting a bit of the old discrete, Go ahead nod from him, I just said, ‘Ma’am, Tommy is in the restaurant right now. If you could just point him out right now I’d be glad to let him know what you think of his restaurants.’
She stammered, gave the ‘No he’s not, I would’ve seen him!’ until the owner stood up and said hello. He put on the kind of sickly sweet personality, where you’re ever so polite but a total jerk at the same time. She shut the f–k up and paid pretty quickly after that”
I Want Kids…Now
“I had a guy asked me if I had any kids the other day. I laughed and said no, because it is an awkward question For the next hour the guy kept giving me dirty looks, grasping his children. I was fairly certain he thought I hated children. I told a few people about it and one of them suggested I ask him something.
So, I walked towards my boss (I was working) and asked her if I would get in trouble for making fun of this guy. Apparently, the guy had been making trouble for everyone for the last hour and she told me I could say whatever I wanted as long as only he could hear and he left afterwards. I walked up to the man and said, ‘I’m sorry.’
He looked at me and said, ‘My kids are the light of my life and I don’t care what you think but don’t laugh at my children!’ I glanced at my boss and saw her start to walk over with a look of concern on her face. I continued quickly by trying to explain myself, ‘Sir, I wasn’t- I didn’t…’ I dropped it and moved on saying what my friend had told me to say, ‘What I came over to say is that I want to have your children.’
He gave me a look of complete horror and grasped his children, looking between them. I saw he was getting the wrong idea. ‘No, sir, I don’t want YOUR children. I want us to have our own babies.’ My face was completely red because I don’t do this kind of stuff a lot and I was trying to keep from bursting out laughing.
His face started getting red and he raised his finger to say something, so I turned and walked away. My boss was standing there in awe, not sure what to do. I walked past her to the back of the store and immediately burst into laughter”
“I worked at a fast food place for a while. One morning immediately after opening a lady ordered, her total was around $5 or so, and she claimed I gave her the wrong change and that she paid with a $20.
I assured her she paid with a $10 and she insisted I was mistaken. I then told her normally I would believe her but since we just opened there were no $20s in the drawer- That shut her up”
“I had the opposite situation- while visiting my family in Germany with my brother who did not grow up there and therefore did not know german. We went to McDonalds to order food during one of the days, as we get up I ordered in English since my brother would get jealous when I spoke German. Anyways, the cashier takes the order, as most Germans know basic English but when my brother tries to order it gets really complicated because of misunderstandings.
The teenage cashier becomes enraged the likes of which the world has never seen from a german and stars snarling off remarks in german on how ‘Americans are lazy a–holes who couldn’t possible learn a second language if even needed’. Everyone is looking at this kid, all understanding them, but don’t say anything. As the kid finished, I calmly look at him and ask to speak with his manager in german. If you guys have ever seen Casper the friendly ghost, you’ve seen this kid. The kid is white as snow and turns around to get his manager. The kid, my brother and I all walked out around the same time, all three of us without a job at McDonalds”
That’ll Be 60 Grand
“I work as a banquet server for a private golf club. I was working a large wedding reception and there was a line for the women’s restroom. A lady asks me if there were any other restrooms available for the reception guests. I told her that there were unfortunately none that the people attending the reception could use except for the one she was standing in line for.
Out of nowhere she starts to scream at me saying that she couldn’t believe there was only one restroom calling me incompetent for not knowing where she could find one. I told her that there are other restrooms but they’re for golf club member use only. She screams some more as people are passing her in the line calling me stupid and so on.
If we let non-members into member only areas we could get fired so I cut her off and said, ‘Ma’am, I’m sorry you feel that way but I could lose my job if I let you back to those restrooms. As I said before there’s nothing I can do for you at this time. If you want to use that restroom so badly I’d be happy to get you the number to member relations so you can become a member. There are three levels of membership but you only need the lowest one, which costs about 60,000 dollars a year, to go back there. I’ll be right back with that info for you.’
She was so stunned at what I said she just stood there in disbelief as I walked away- That shut her up for the rest of the night”
Yes, He Does
“At a pizza delivery joint a customer called claiming we were late with our delivery. We possibly were, but he then pointlessly asked, ‘Do you even know where Abercrombie Road IS?!’
Actually, yes – I did know where it was. It was a famous ‘landmark’ road. But not just that, I was standing right next to a bloody great wall-map of the town that we always refer to, and was able to say:
‘Certainly I do. Abercrombie Road is one of the three parallel main roads which cross the fine town of Derpville. At nearly two miles long, Abercrombie Road is one of the shorter main roads in the immediate area, but from its origin at Herp Plaza it offers the motorist or pedestrian scenic views of Derpy Park, which blend seamlessly into the suburbs of Derpington, St. Herpert’s High School and the cenotpah commemorating the Battle of Derp. It then terminates at the agricultural centre on the outskirts of town. It is a road known to all, and is an experience that even the most casual visitor to the town of Derpville should not miss.’
‘Now, before the call continues, I have to know – does that answer to your complete satisfaction the question about whether or not I know where Abercrombie Road is?’
The guy just said, ‘Yeah’ and left it at that. I said, ‘Then expect your order to arrive shortly with our apologies – and rest assured that any tardiness was not the result of a lack of geographic knowledge of the area. Thank you for using Derp’s Pizza!’
And hung up”
Your Request Is Impossible
“The McDonalds I was working at is in a mall. The mall opens about 20 minutes before we open so people can park underground.
So this one guy comes up to the counter before we are open asking us to break a $20 note. None of the till had been counted yet so I had no money.
I kept on telling the guy that I can break his note because I have no change. But he wouldn’t get the message.
After a couple of minutes of me telling him I cant because we aren’t open yet. I pulled the empty draw out of my till, shoved it in his face, and yelled ‘BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY!’
That shut him up and he walked out- The manager was watching the whole time and just laughed”
That Is Smooth
“I work at Jimmy John’s. At JJ’s, if you’ve never been, it’s mostly self-service, you get your napkins, and if you need a bag, you get them yourself. Our sandwiches are wrapped in a way that you generally don’t need one, and everything is made ‘to go’.
A lady came in one day and ordered like 4 or 5 sandwiches. As always, I redirect them to the end of the bar to pick up their sandwiches and grab whatever napkins and bags they want. Now, if someone asks us to bag something FOR them, we will. People generally don’t (unless they’re really old in which case we’ll do it for them regardless) but nobody minds if they do.
This lady never asked once for someone to bag her food. She stood at the bar, quiet, bagging all of her sandwiches up and then left. 15 or 20 minutes go by. Her husband calls the store and asks to speak to a manager (ME). I pick up the phone and the conversation goes like this, mostly verbatim:
ME: Hey, how can I help you?
GUY: shouting Yeah, since when is it ya’lls policy for people to bag their own food? My wife just came from there and told me she had to bag everything herself!
ME: I’m sorry sir, but it’s technically always been our policy. Everything is self-service here at Jimmy John’s. We certainly would have — cuts me off
GUY: WELL I’M GOING TO BE SURE TO TELL EVERYONE I KNOW ABOUT THE KIND OF SERVICE YOU GUYS OFFER OVER THERE
ME: Okay, well, thanks, I guess? I mean, it isn’t any sort of secret