(I’ve just ordered a small salad and some fries. I get the salad almost immediately, but the fries take longer. It’s been nearly a half hour when I finally ask about my fries.)

Me: “Excuse me, I ordered a side of fries about thirty minutes ago. Is it going to take much longer?”

Cashier: “It might. I don’t know. I don’t do fries. I’ll ask my coworker.”

(They go over to talk to their coworker at the fryer.)

Cashier: “Alright, he said it should only take a few more minutes. Probably got lost in the system because of your salad, haha.”

Me: “Thanks so much!”

(Another ten minutes pass. Several orders are put out, most of them with fries on the side. I start to get annoyed, and the cashier sees this.)

Cashier: “Hold on, I’ll take care of it…”

(She goes over to her co-worker and asks where my fries are, again.)

Fry Guy: “Stop f*****g asking me! I’ll get them when I f*****g get them!”

Cashier: “If you don’t stop speaking like that I will have [boss] have a stern talk with you.”

Fry Guy: “Yeah, right, I’ve been here way longer than you. Plus that fat-a** b***h doesn’t need more fat and grease.”

(At this moment, I turn and see a large man with “Manager” written on his name tag. He’s been listening and finally speaks up.)

Manager: *to the fry guy* “No, you have not been here that long, and this young lady is not fat. You’re fired.”

Fry Guy: “Aw come on, I’ve been here longer than [cashier] has been! Gimmie another chance!”

Manager: “No, you’ve done this five times in the last week already! I want your whites on my desk by two o’ clock, no later.”

Fry Guy: *mutters curses and stomps to the back*

Cashier: “Here, I’ll take your entire order off. It’s on us.”

(All that trouble over two handfuls of fries!)

(I am scheduled to work on Sundays and Mondays, but on Tuesday I catch a bad strain of flu. I send my boss three emails to make sure she knows I won’t be able to work. However, on Sunday morning she rings my house, and as I am sick in bed my father answers the phone.)

My Dad: “Hello, [last name] residence.”

Boss: “WHERE’S [my name]?! She’s not at work!”

My Dad: “[My name] is sick in bed, and—”

Boss: “Sickness is no excuse! If she doesn’t come in, she’s fired!”

My Dad: *calmly* “[My name] went to the doctor on Wednesday, got diagnosed with a bad strain of influenza, and is currently in bed resting. She is on four different kinds of medication, and sent you three separate e-mails at least five days in advance letting you know that she wasn’t going to be able to work today and tomorrow. I know you received them because you responded to two of them calling her a liar and saying that her illness was ‘just a head cold.’ I don’t know how you thought you could diagnose my daughter through the internet, but you have had ample notice that she is incapable of work right now, and I can vouch as to her genuine illness.”

Boss: “I DON’T HAVE TO DEAL WITH SOMEBODY AS IRRATIONAL AS YOU!” *hangs up*

(Incredibly, the next time I came into work I was fired because I didn’t show up when I was sick!)

(It’s a slow day, so my boss, coworker, and myself are talking behind the counter. My coworker and I are both fairly large chested with wider hips, so both of us have some pretty magnificent curves. She stands just a few cm shorter than me, and I’m 167 cm. She and I are in the younger half of 20′s, at university, and my boss is in her 50′s and resembles an ironing board.)

Coworker: “I absolutely hate shopping for clothes, I really don’t want to go. Nothing fits right.”

Me: “I run into the same problem. Jeans fit right in some places, not in others, and shirts I just can’t do.”

Coworker: “I know, right? You have to size in the chest or you look trashy.”

Me: “Haha, I know eh? I need some new jeans myself, come to think of it.”

Boss: “Oh, I know what you mean! I can never find jeans in my size! It’s like, come on, people, you can’t all be my size.”

Me: “Yeah, since I’m a pretty average, I really can’t find anything myself.”

Boss: “Well, what size are you?”

Me: “US8.”

Boss: “You’re THAT FAT?!”

Me: “What the h*** size are you, then?”

Boss: “4, what a woman should be!”

Me: *trying to turn it into a joke* “Yeah, those good ‘ol Irish Catholic hips certainly make me fat.”

Boss: “Both of you really should diet. Hips are no excuse!”

Related:
Some Things Can Weight To Be Said, Part 3
Some Things Can Weight To Be Said, Part 2
Some Things Can Weight To Be Said

(I’m staffed as an extra at a cafe so I can fill orders for the lunch rush. I notice one of my coworkers talking abnormally loud to a customer.)

Coworker: “WE DON’T HAVE THAT TODAY!”

(The customer, an elderly gentleman, looks confused and makes a gesture, asking for pen and paper. I quickly give someone their bagel and return to focus on my coworker and the customer. He holds up the paper after writing.)

Coworker: “WE…” *waves hands to indicate the staff* “…NO HAVE…” *points to paper* “…THAT TODAY. NO!” *waves his hands in an X motion*

(The customer cocks his head and looks rather confused and upset. I turn to the elderly man and start to sign.)

Me: *signing* “Excuse me, are you deaf?”

(Visibly relieved, he signs back.)

Customer: *signing* “Yes, yes I am. I was wanting a [sandwich].”

Me: *signing* “We ran out of that maybe an hour ago; I’m really sorry. Is there another sandwich I can get you? Anything else?”

Customer: *signing* “Well, perhaps I’ll have the Chicken Caesar instead.”

Me: *to my coworker* “Go help Lauren.” *signing to the customer* “So, one Chicken Caesar sandwich… anything else? Coffee?”

Customer: *signing* “Oh no, thank you; I have some. I didn’t know anyone here could sign! How long have you studied?”

Me: *signing* “About a year. I’m still learning, so I’m sorry for all of the fingerspelling! ”

(The customer and I have a lovely chat. He helps correct a few of my signs, and I gave him a free cookie. Later on, I’m speaking with my coworker.)

Me: “You know I could sign. Why didn’t you come grab me?”

Coworker: “I thought he’d understand if I shouted loud enough!”

(The customer leaves, but not before giving me a sweet smile and waving. He came in several more times with a piece of paper with my name on it so my coworkers could come grab me. Unfortunately, I was told he stopped frequenting the store after I left.)

Related:
Signs Of Trouble

(A couple of regulars comes into our cafe and sits at table nine. While taking another order, I clearly hear them ordering two flat whites. After coming back from taking my other order, I see my boss pointing at the flat whites.)

Me: “Oh, two flat whites? I’ll take them to table nine.”

Boss: “NO! No, no no! Stop jumping ahead! I will tell you where to take them!”

Me: “But I saw them come in and I heard them order. They’re right over there on table nine.”

Boss: “Stop jumping ahead! I’ll find them!”

(She proceeds to search the tables for two minutes while swearing under her breath. I patiently wait, knowing what’s coming.)

Boss: “…You take those to table nine!”