(I’m pregnant and have to cut a lot of salt out of my diet. One day before I start my shift, I come in to the fast food restaurant where I work to have dinner.)

Me: “…and please make sure no salt on those fries, please.”

Coworker #1: “Sure thing. I’ve got a medium, no salt french fry!”

Coworker #2: “Sure, it’s three minutes…”

(Three minutes later, my food is up but the fries obviously are covered in salt.)

Me: “Sorry, I think there was a mistake. I need no salt on these.”

Coworker #2: “Oh! I thought you wanted extra salt! Let me put down another basket; it will be three minutes.”

Me: “Okay, I’ll just eat the rest of my food while I wait.”

(Three minutes later, my fries get brought out to me but they still have salt on them. Not wanting to start a fight with Coworker #2, who I don’t know, I take them to Coworker #1.)

Me: “I’m sorry. I think she keeps forgetting I need no salt on these.”

Coworker #1: “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

(Coworker #1 carries the fries over to Coworker #2 and shows them to her.)

Coworker #1: “Do these have salt on them?”

Coworker #2: “Well, duh! Fries come with salt, don’t they?”

Coworker #1: “Yes, they normally do, but I need a medium size fry with NO salt on them.”

Coworker #2: “I’m not going to put down another basket of fries! You’re wasting them all!”

Coworker #1: “They wouldn’t be wasted if you would just make them right.”

(I watch from the counter as Coworker #2 makes a fresh basket of fries, but once they are up, she pours four times the amount of salt on them and tries to give them to me.)

Me: “Look, I work here, and I know you are aware I asked for no salt. So, why did you purposely put three extra salts on them?”

Coworker #1: “Oh, you’re fat. It doesn’t matter what you eat!”

Me: “Yeah, it does matter what I eat because this ‘fat’ is a baby. That’s why I can’t have salt.”

(I clock in, but let it slide since my coworker doesn’t say anything more to me. Not surprisingly, she was later reprimanded for making the fries so salty that the customers refused to eat them.)

(I work part time at a fast food place while going to college full time and I recently had my first child. Due to a high turnover rate, when I come back from my maternity leave there are several new faces.)

Me: *to a new cashier* “Hello! Nice to meet you. How long have you been working here?”

Coworker: “Oh, about a month. I know tons of stuff already, so I can give you pointers if you like.”

Me: “Well, that’s awfully nice of you, but I don’t think it will be necessary, thanks.”

Coworker: “Do you think I look stupid or something?!”

Me: “Oh, no! Not at all! It’s just I’ve been working here for two years and—”

Coworker: “You have not! I’ve never seen you here before. You’re just trying to act superior to me.”

(Hearing the raised voices, my manager pops up, thinking it’s a customer.)

Manager: “Uh, what’s going on? Are you girls okay?”

Coworker: “She lied to me! She said she’s been working here for two years but I’ve been here for a whole month and never saw her until today! She’s being mean and rude to me and I want her fired right now!”

Manager: “Seriously? You want me to fire my best employee on her first day back after her maternity leave because you’ve never seen her before?”

Coworker: “Well, she was also mean to me! You have to do something about it!”

Manager: “I find that hard to believe. This girl right here is the sweetest person I have ever met. She regularly takes care of our most difficult customers and is a joy to work with. I have never heard her make a rude comment to anyone ever. But if you are insistent on filing a report we can go back to my office right now and get started.”

(The new girl was very quiet for the rest of the day. The next day, she complained to a different manager that we were playing favorites and verbally abusing her. Not surprisingly, no one believed her and she quit.)

Related:
Age Before Snooty (Not Always Right)

Me: “Hi. I would like three pieces of extra crispy chicken only, white meat.”

Cashier: “What kind of sides would you like with that?”

Me: “Just the chicken. No meal. No side. Chicken only.”

Cashier: “What kind of chicken would you like?”

Me: “White meat.”

Cashier: *rolls her eyes* “No… do you want regular, barbecue, extra crispy?”

Me: “Extra crispy.”

(She rings me up and it comes up at the full meal price.)

Me: “Is that the full meal price?”

Cashier: “Yes. Isn’t that what you want?”

Me: “I wanted the chicken only. No meal. No sides.”

Cashier: *loudly* “WELL, YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT! I’m not a mind reader!”

(She boxes up the chicken. I take it back to work with me only to open the box and find she still gave me dark meat!)

Related:
Running Afowl Of The Customer

(I go to the local fast food restaurant and order chicken nuggets.)

Clerk: “$7.34, please.”

Me: “What? It’s $5.80. Tax is not over a dollar.”

Clerk: “$7.34 or we cant serve you.”

Me: “Florida tax is 7%, so it would be $.42 at most. Added to $5.80, that would be approximately $6.22.”

(The manager comes over and I show him my math. He sits there puzzled for over a minute.)

Manager: “Doesn’t add up, and even if it did, there are extra taxes. Stop trying to scam us and pay the money or go home!”

Me: “Okay, sir, I tried to be reasonable. You obviously don’t know math.”

Manager: “Don’t you f***ing talk to me that way! I am a manager! I am above you!”

(As the manager says this, his boss, the general manager, shows up.)

General Manager: *to the manager* “And I’m above you. Not anymore, though. You’re fired!”

(I talked to the general manager. Not only did he notice the first employee adding extras to my order, but to most of the orders that day in hopes of stealing. He was fired too.)

Related:
Some Employees Just Don’t Add Up, Part 2
Some Employees Just Don’t Add Up

(I’m picking up lunch for my daughter and myself on the way home from running errands. The employee who has taken my order has been very polite and my order is correct. However, I notice there is standing water on the counter. Not just a wet counter: I mean puddles of water. After bagging my food in a paper bag, she proceeds to set it down in the large puddle for me to take.)

Me: “Could I possibly get a plastic bag?”

Employee: *wrinkles her nose* “Why?”

Me: “Well, two reasons. One, it’s easier for me to carry something with a handle. Two, the bottom of the bag is wet and I don’t want it ripping and spilling my food out before I get home.”

(She looks at the bag, and sees the water that’s already soaked at least two inches up the bag.)

Employee: “How did you get it wet?”

Me: “I didn’t; the counter is soaked.”

Employee: *hysterical* “What did you do?! What did you do to this counter?!”

(As she goes to inspect the cardboard holder that contains the drinks to go with my order, even though neither were water, the manager comes over and literally shoves her out of sight.)

Manager: “I am so sorry about that. Let me get you a bag.”

Me: “Thank you.”

Manager: “Sometimes, I wish we had to issue IQ tests to hire people…”