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    Category: Food & Drink

    The Name Was Not A Piece Of Cake

    | WI, USA | Coworkers, Food & Drink, Language & Words

    (Like many other bakeries, ours takes custom orders by asking for a last name that the customer can pick up by. Also of note, I work only the very early morning shifts, so I see very little of our customer base and take very few orders myself.)

    Customer: “Good morning. Pick up for a cake for [very Polish-sounding last name that starts with a K].”

    Me: “Sure! Just a moment please.”

    (I go to the cooler to check for the cake, but there is only one order, and it is for a [very obviously English last name starting with an H]. I return to the customer.)

    Me: “I’m very sorry sir, but I can’t seem to find the cake. Could it possibly have been listed under any other name?”

    (The customer’s eyes go wide while I speak.)

    Customer: “No, it would only be under [Polish Name].”

    (I decide to check the orders that have been finished and marked as received, and there’s a similar Polish name starting with an A. I take the order by the customer, in case someone in his family had picked it up earlier.)

    Me: “Could it possibly be [Other Polish Name]?”

    Customer: “No, no it has to be [Polish Name].”

    (While I start to speak again, my coworker comes up to see what’s going on, and the customer seems to recognize her. She quickly walks away, but then comes back with the lone cake from the cooler and stops me in mid-sentence.)

    Coworker: “Is the cake for a Harry and Larry?” *looking at the decorations written on the cake*

    Customer: *joking with her* “Well, it’s supposed to be for a Larry and Harry, but I suppose that will do!” *he takes the cake with satisfaction and heads off*

    Me: “…what?”

    Coworker: “Oh, I took his order the other day, and I recognized him. What was the problem?”

    Me: “He asked for an order with a very obviously a Polish name starting with a K that I can’t even pronounce or begin to spell. That is NOT the name written on the order form.”

    Coworker: “Oh… was I anywhere close?”

    Me: “…nowhere near.”

    Five-Second-Rule Does Not A-Pie

    | Australia | Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners, Food & Drink

    (I worked in the bars and food stalls at a big football stadium. It’s just before the gates open.)

    Coworker #1: *who works in another stall* “Everyone, I need your attention. Do not eat any of the pies for lunch today.”

    Coworker #2: “Why not?”

    Coworker #1: “I just saw [Boss] getting them out of the freezer. He dropped them on the ground. Every one of them scattered across the dirty ground. He dusted them off and put them into the warmers.”

    Toast Of Sandwiches Past

    | Vancouver, BC, Canada | Employees, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

    (I’m calling in a take-out order to a restaurant that I order from frequently.)

    Me: “Can I please get a club sandwich on whole wheat bread?”

    Cashier: “I’m sorry; we don’t have whole wheat bread.”

    Me: “Really? Did you stop carrying it? I ordered the same thing last week, and you had whole wheat bread then.”

    Cashier: “No, we don’t have whole wheat bread. We just have whole wheat toast…”

    (I have no idea what to say to that without sounding like a smartass, so I sit in silence for a moment. I can practically hear the wheels starting to turn in her head.)

    Cashier: “Oh. I guess we can probably use that bread to make your club.”

    Me: “Sounds good.”

    Uncooked Pigs Don’t Fly With Me

    | NY, USA | Employees, Food & Drink, Health & Body, Ignoring/Inattentive

    (My friend and I decide to eat at a Russian restaurant we have never eaten at before. We order some dumplings and a ‘Georgian sausage.’ The sausage, which is made of pork, is a very large one, which we share. It is when I cut into the center and try it that I realize it is still quite raw on the inside. We call over the waiter.)

    Me: “Excuse me, this sausage is undercooked, it’s still raw in the center.” *show the sausage*

    Waiter: “This is fine. It is cooked.”

    Me: “No, it’s not, and this sausage is made of pork, which is dangerous to serve undercooked like this.”

    Waiter: “The sausage is cooked. If you wanted it well done, you should have asked for it well done!”

    (We left without tipping, as we shouldn’t have to ask for pork to be ‘well done’!)

    Has No Problem With Their Drinking Problem

    | London, England, UK | Employees, Food & Drink, Health & Body

    (My friend is leaving to join the army and he and I both go out for a couple leaving drinks. My friend offers to buy the first round.)

    Friend: “Hiya, can I get… two ‘Irish Car-bombs,’ please.”

    (Those who don’t know what this is, it’s a half pint of Guinness served with a shot of Baileys with Jameson whiskey floated on top. The shot is dropped into the pint and then the whole thing has to be thrown back at once before the baileys curdles in the Guinness.)

    Me: “That’s it. I’m done. I hate Irish Car-bombs. LIKE, REALLY HATE THEM!”

    Friend: “Nope, you need to stay. Just this one and then were on normal drinks.”

    Me: “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.”

    (The girl behind the bar at this point has been silent.)

    Bar Girl #1: “Sorry, but what is an Irish Car bomb?”

    (My friend proceeded to explain the whole concoction in explicit detail and even help her float the whiskey on the shots. At this point a small crowd of bar staff has gathered to watch the show.)

    Me: “Dude… what have you done?! We have an audience now!”

    (At this point I think I’m safe, since I recognise the manager walking along the bar I’m hoping he will tell his staff to get back to work.)

    Manager: “What are we watching?”

    Me: “S***!”

    (As I prepare to drop the shot into the Guinness a cute girl at the bar chips in.)

    Bar Girl #2: “Good luck, sir.”

    (Never before has man been under such pressure to not screw up drinking. I drop the shot and neck the drink in what I consider record time only for more or less the whole bar to erupt into applause, young drinkers and older ones alike applauding. The guy at the bar pipes up.)

    Bar Guy: “Same again, lads?”


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