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    Category: Employees

    My Request Is On The Table

    | FL, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Bosses & Owners, Employees, Food & Drink

    (I am part of the university’s drama club and participate in all the plays and musicals. It is tradition for the cast to go out to eat at a restaurant each night after a performance and usually we have a big cast. We take a count each night before we start the production to see who will go out to dinner afterwards and then call the restaurant ahead of time to let them know how big a group would be coming. All our dinners are late at night as well, well past 10:30 pm. One night we have a play on April 1, and I was the first one to be done getting dressed in my street clothes, so I went ahead to get our reservation. This happens when I get to the restaurant.)

    Hostess: *smiling brightly* “Hello! Welcome to [Restaurant]. Do you have a reservation?”

    Me: “Hey there. I’m with [drama club that has 20+ people]. Are our tables ready?”

    Hostess: *her smile drops and she has a horrified look on her face* “Ummm… excuse me for one moment…”

    (She goes to the back to get someone and I stand at the front of the restaurant feeling very confused. The hostess comes with her manager, both looking worried. After they check a few things on their computer, he turns to me:)

    Me: “Is everything okay?”

    Manager: “Oh yeah, don’t worry! We have enough tables for your group.”

    Me: “So, what was the problem?”

    Manager: “Honestly, when we got the call for your reservation we thought it was actually an April’s Fool prank since you had so many people coming so late!”

    (I had a good laugh with the employees and when everyone else came we got our usual group of tables. The other cast members had a good laugh at the fake April Fool’s joke we pulled on the poor employees.)

    Needs To Prescribe Themselves Some Attentiveness

    | MI, USA | Employees, Health & Body, Ignoring/Inattentive

    (I’ve been going to the same chain drugstore for a while now. Having moved and been diagnosed with diabetes, taking medication has become a fairly standard part of my life. I am picking some prescriptions when I am told that they can’t find one I had refilled the night before.)

    Clerk: “Huh, that’s strange. It says it was filled this morning by [Pharmacist] but I can’t find it.”

    Me: “Well, I really kinda need it. It’s a diabetic medication and I really can’t go skipping a day.”

    (The clerk tells me if I’m willing to wait 20 minutes that they can refill it. I pay for my other medications and he bags them.)

    Clerk: “Okay, that’s all done if you’ll just step to the side at that window they’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

    (I am confused but do as he says as he makes a motion to move my bag of prescriptions to wait with me. The woman behind me, a snobby soccer mom if there was one, immediately steps up as I edge away from the counter. She states her name loudly and starts complaining about how long she’s had to wait and how they really need more staff. After 15 minutes, the people at the other counter confirm what I need and have me sit down. When my prescription is ready I am once again called to the clerk to pay for the last one.)

    Clerk: “Okay and your total is [total]. Would you like to add this to your other bag?”

    (He offers the prescription towards me and I give him a hard look.)

    Me: “You can put it in with the rest of my medications you have.”

    Clerk: “Ma’am, I already gave you your medications.”

    (I look at him and gesture towards my t-shirt, jeans and non-existent purse.)

    Me: “And where exactly do you think I have them? You kept my medications. You never handed them to me.”

    Clerk: “You took your prescriptions. I bagged them and handed them to you.”

    Me: “You did bag them, and then you told me to move to the other window. You never handed them to me.”

    (It was at this time one of the actual pharmacists stepped over.)

    Pharmacist: “Ma’am. Is there something wrong?”

    Me: “Yes. Your clerk is trying to claim that I have given me my meds but I never got them. I have the one.” *I hold up the one he just rang* “But I don’t know what he did with the other three.”

    (The clerk has now given up and is completely ignoring me, ringing up other customers behind me.)

    Pharmacist: “Ma’am, would you like me to call a manager?”

    Me: “Yes, please do. I want you to watch the security footage and find out where my medications went.”

    (I am asked to wait and within a minute a manager shows up. He’s one I’ve dealt with before and have gotten fairly friendly with.)

    Manager: “Don’t worry, [My Name]. We’ll get this all sorted out.”

    Me: “You know I hadn’t thought about it till now, but the girl behind me was named [Name]. You may need to call her.”

    (Another 30 minutes and four missing refills later, it was discovered that the clerk had indeed bagged my medication, and then proceeded to bag the snobby lady’s meds on top of mine and hand her the entire bag. I haven’t seen that clerk at that store since.)

    Rated ‘M’ For Mom

    | TX, USA | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Employees

    (My boyfriend and I look nothing alike. He is five inches taller than me, has dark curly hair, and is as thin as a toothpick. He also has a really dark complex. On the other hand I am blonde, have an athletic build, and am freakishly pale. We are in a video game store and he is making a purchase.)

    Cashier: “Okay, sir, this game is rated M for mature, so I need to see some ID.”

    Boyfriend: “Sure, no problem.”

    (My boyfriend starts to reach into his pocket to grab his ID when the cashier notices me.)

    Cashier: “Ma’am, I need to let you know that this game is unsuitable for people under the age of 17 due to graphic violence, blood, and swear words. So I need to see your ID.”

    Me: “Why do you need to see my ID? I’m not buying anything.”

    Cashier: “This game has violence and blood, and may be unsuitable for him, so I have to let his parents know.”

    Me: “I’m not his mother, so there really isn’t a reason for you to tell me or ask for my ID.”

    Cashier: “It is rated M, which is a rating from the ESRB saying that there is graphic violence and blood, and shouldn’t be played by anyone under the age of 17.”

    Boyfriend: “Erm… dude, I’m 20.”

    Me: “I’m 19, and I’m not making a purchase. ”

    Cashier: “If you’re not making a purchase then I’m going to ask you to leave, as your son is not old enough to make this purchase.”

    (At this point I am starting to get self-conscious.)

    Me: “[Boyfriend], do I really look old enough to be your mom?”

    Boyfriend: “Nope.”

    (My boyfriend hands his ID to the cashier, who just continues to look at me expectantly.)

    Cashier: “Ma’am, I need your ID.”

    (My boyfriend ended up asking for the manager, who was just as insistent that I need to show my ID so my ‘son’ can buy a game.)

    Sandwiched Between Incompetence And Laziness

    | Baton Rouge, LA, USA | Employees, Food & Drink, Ignoring/Inattentive, Musical Mayhem

    (I’m a customer in a sandwich shop chain famous for letting you build your own sandwiches through a line. The girl working the line has one ear-bud in her ear, leaving the other open to hear me with.)

    Me: “I’d like a foot long [bread].”

    Worker: *stares at me blankly*

    Me: “Hello? Foot long [bread]. Please.”

    Worker: *grabs the right bread, cuts the foot long in half, and puts one of the six inch halves on the line*

    Me: “No. No. Foot long. The big one, not little.”

    Worker: “Oh, why didn’t you say so?” *grabs another foot long of the bread, slices it open* “You want it toasted?”

    Me: “No.”

    Worker: *begins putting it in the toaster*

    Me: “I said no! Stop!”

    Worker: “Okay, fine! What cheese do you want?”

    Me: “No cheese.”

    Worker: *puts cheddar on the bread*

    Me: “Please take that off. I said NO cheese.” *she does so* “Okay, I would like the tuna salad, and extra tuna please.”

    Worker: “I only have enough for your sandwich. We don’t have any extra.”

    (The manager, who is stocking the racks that hold the chips, finally pipes up.)

    Manager: “Go get some more from the back; you know where it is.”

    Me: *after the worker is gone* “You know, I think she would do a better job if she’d get that thing out her ear!”

    Manager: “What thing?”

    Me: “The ear-bud she has in. I think she’s listening to music and she can’t figure out who to pay attention to.”

    Manager: “[Worker]!”

    Worker: *coming out with more tuna salad* “Yes?”

    Manager: “Do you have ear-buds in?”

    (She quickly pops the ear-bud out and hides it in her pocket.)

    Worker: “No.”

    Manager: “You know that’s not allowed. If I catch you again you’re being sent home.”

    (She quickly finished my sandwich with no further problems but she sure gave me a death glare!)

    Giving A Serious Address To The Address

    | Fargo, ND, USA | Bizarre/Silly, Employees

    (I am calling for a replacement gift card through a popular credit card company. The agent on the phone seems pleasant enough…)

    Agent: “May I please have your address?”

    Me: *gives address*

    Agent: “Do I add ‘th’ to the end of the number on the street?”

    Me: “Um, I guess.”

    Agent: “Do I abbreviate street to ‘St’ or do I spell out ‘street?'”

    Me: “You can just abbreviate.”

    Agent: “And it’s north, as in the direction ‘north?'”

    Me: “Yes.”

    Agent: “Do I put a comma after the city in which you reside?”

    (This goes on for several minutes, instructing her on how to add an address. I was a bit baffled the whole time but at least she was pleasant.)


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