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  • Brit Brat

    , | Germany | Bigotry, Coworkers

    (We have a bus full of Brits come in.)

    Coworker: “Nope. Not gonna serve them if they don’t speak German.”

    Me: “What! Why?”

    Coworker: “I don’t speak English. They’re in Germany. They can f****** speak German.”

    Me: *out loud to all customers* “Would everyone who doesn’t speak German please come into my line? Thank you!”

    Coworker: *looks at me as if I have killed someone* “That’s so rude of you!”

    Me: “Not worse than denying them service. Go and take care of the other customers, please. The ones who speak German.”

    (I spend the next half hour serving only Brits while she was done after only five minutes.)

    Me: “Can you at least help me prepare all the food?”

    Coworker: “No. I’m gonna go for a smoke.”

    (Apparently, some of the guests do understand German because as soon as my coworker is gone they start moaning about her. I am left speechless while this group of people start telling me how nice I am, how great my English is, and that I should keep my chin up and not despair.)

    Me: “Thank you, but it’s okay. Really.”

    (After all the customers are done and served, the oldest of them comes up to me and hands me €10!)

    Oldest Customer: “Here you go. I know you don’t usually get tips, so this is from us to you because you’re awesome. Treat yourself.”

    (I tried to decline but then just thanked him. That’s when my coworker came back; she took a 20-minute smoking break while I worked. I was thinking about complaining to our supervisor for a while but then just thought it was not worth the hassle. The kitchen crew had noticed the whole thing. An hour later our supervisor came and asked me what had happened (my coworker was smoking again) and I told him the truth. She got a very strict warning from him – apparently not her first!)

    It’s An Ill Bird That Fouls Its Own Nest

    | England, UK | Bosses & Owners, Food & Drink, Lazy/Unhelpful

    (I’m working alone with my manager one night about 10 minutes before we close. I hear the fryers react as though something’s been dropped in. It’s summer, so we have all the doors and windows open, but the kitchen has none so I am confused. I go to check, and find a bird seems to have fallen in.)

    Me: “[Manager], are you free? Can you come here a second?”

    Manager: *walking in* “What is it?”

    Me: *I point out the bird* “We need to change the oil.”

    Manager: “Seriously? It’s 10 minutes before close. We’ll be here an extra half hour if we do it now!”

    Me: “It has to be done.”

    (The manager huffs, then fishes the deep-fried bird out with a pair of tongs and throws it in the bin.)

    Manager: “Sorted. You can clean it out tomorrow.”

    Me: “I’m off until Thursday.” *it’s currently Monday*

    Manager: *getting annoyed* “Do it Thursday, then!”

    Me: “You want to leave the fryers for three days with oil that bird has been in?”

    Manager: “The heat will kill off the germs. Don’t worry about it.”

    (And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how I quit my first job.)

    In Real Hot Sauce Now

    | Washington, DC, USA | Employees, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Ignoring/Inattentive

    (I stop by a popular sub shop before a meeting one night. All goes well until we get to the condiments. The girl helping me has been working here a while, so I know she’s familiar with how it all works.)

    Worker: “And what else would you like on that?”

    Me: “Ranch, please.”

    Worker: *slowly reaches for the sriracha sauce, which is a hot sauce: very much the opposite of ranch*

    Me: “No. The ranch, please.”

    Worker: *looks at me and then keeps going for the sriracha*

    Me: “I said ranch, please!”

    Worker: *picks up the sriracha and looks at me again before covering the sub in sriracha sauce*

    Me: “Uh, I said ranch several times.”

    Worker: *looks down at the sub* “Oh… I don’t know why I did that.”

    Me: “Me, neither.”

    This Conversation Died A Premature Death

    , | NSW, Australia | Bosses & Owners, Health & Body, Money

    (I work as a delivery driver for a well-known pizza franchise in Australia. It is currently after hours, so the manager and I are cleaning up the store before we leave. Having already counted out my tips, I throw a few coins into a donation box we have set up on the counter.)

    Manager: *poking his head out* “What was that?”

    Me: “I was just putting some of my tips into the donation box here.”

    Manager: *with a strange look on his face* “I see…”

    Me: “Is something wrong?”

    Manager: “Well, it’s just that I don’t believe in supporting that sort of thing.”

    Me: *looking at the box* “Cancer research?”

    Manager: “Yeah. You see, people are living longer than ever now, so I think we need diseases like cancer to function as population control.”

    (I’m pretty dumbfounded by this explanation, because normally this manager is a very reasonable guy. Not wanting to be rude, I decide to discuss the topic rationally.)

    Me: “Okay. But what would happen if you or someone you cared about got sick from one of these diseases? Would you still feel the same way then?”

    Manager: *almost proudly* “Yeah!”

    (That was pretty much the end of that conversation.)

    More Than Meets The Black Eye

    , | NY, USA | At The Checkout, Employees, Health & Body

    (One my good friends has a very energetic dog that is lacking in discipline, to put it politely. The last time I went over to his place, as I bent over to take off my shoes the dog jumped up into my face, snout first, giving me a black eye. The next day I stop by a fast food place with one of my friends and we are laughing and joking around as we set up to order. The cashier sees me…)

    Cashier: “Ooooh, baby! What happened?”

    Me: “Huh?”

    Cashier: “Is someone hurting you?”

    (Realizing she is referring to my eye I respond but since I’m a little startled by her concern I trip over my words.)

    Me: “Oh… um… my eye? Yeah, my friend’s dog did this. He jumped… into my face.”

    Cashier: “Mmmm-hmmm. Is THAT what REALLY happened?”

    Me: “Well, yeah. It was a big dog. Thanks for worrying, though. Can I just get an order of [order]?”

    Cashier: “Sure, that will be [amount].” *under her breath* “Man shouldn’t be hitting on no young girls like that.”


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