I’ve Gotta Get Out Of Displace

| TN, USA | At The Checkout, Bizarre/Silly, Food & Drink

(I frequently go into a nearby ice cream parlor for a ‘hand-packed’ bucket of ice cream, which the attendant fills after you select the size and flavor.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like a 1lb. 8oz. container of [flavor].”

Attendant #1: “What size?”

Me: “…1lb. 8oz.”

Attendant #1: “We don’t have that.”

Me: “…Medium?”

Attendant #1: “We don’t have a medium. Do you want a pint?”

Me: “Does your pint weight 1lb. 8oz.?”

Attendant #1: “Why would I know that?”

Me: “Because the sizes on your menu are listed by weight.”

Attendant #1: “…So you want a quart then?”

Me: “Please show me the sizes of container you have.”

(Attendant #1 holds up three buckets.)

Me: “Okay, I would like the medium one.”

Attendant #1: “All right.”

(Weeks later:)

Me: “Hi, I would like a 1lb. 8oz. container of [flavor].”

Attendant #2: “Is… is that the half-gallon?”

Me: “It’s the medium.”

Attendant #2: “Okay…”

(Days later:)

Me: “Hi, I would like the 1lb. 8… I would like a medium container of [flavor].”

Attendant #1: “We don’t got medium.”

Me: “You’re out of containers?”

Attendant #1: “No, we don’t carry mediums.”

Me: “The median of the three sizes on the menu?”

Attendant #2: “Menu’s wrong. We only have two sizes now.”

Me: “…Are either of those sizes the same size as the buckets that were medium earlier this week?”

Attendant #2: “Same buckets even!”

Me: “…and they are now?”

Attendant #2: “Small.”

Me: “May I have a small, please?”

Attendant #1: “Sure.”

(Epilogue: they’re considering ceasing sale of the large size, because nobody buys them, because it’s inexplicably significantly more expensive per ounce than the smaller containers… and they still haven’t fixed their menu.)


| TX, USA | Employees, Food & Drink, Ignoring/Inattentive

(I’m in the drive thru and have just ordered a chicken pita sandwich. After a 5-10 minute wait, I pull up to pay.)

Cashier: “I’m sorry; they didn’t let me know we are out of pita.”

Me: “Oh, man, I didn’t want anything that was too greasy. What else do you have with chicken in it?”

Cashier: “We have a chicken sourdough.”

Me: “Ok, I’ll get that, but with no sauce.”

(The cashier puts the order in and takes my money. I notice there are a couple of cars behind me.)

Me: “Do you want me to pull around to the front?”

Cashier: “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Me: “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure that the orders for the people behind me will be done before mine, so I might as well let them get their food.”

(I pull around to the front and wait for about 5-10 minutes for my food. She brings it out to me. The sandwich has mayo on it. I go in.)

Me: “I ordered this with no sauce because I’m allergic to mayo.”

Cashier: “Oh, I forgot to put in no sauce!”

(They make me another sandwich. I take it back out to the car and see no mayo, take a bite only to realize it’s beef, not chicken.)

Me: “Um, I think at this point I should be getting my money back. This is beef. Not chicken.”

Cashier #2: “Oh, I’m sorry.” *she goes back to the cook and tells her it’s chicken, not beef*

Me: “AND NO SAUCE!” *I say it loudly hoping the cook would hear*

(After another wait, the cashier brings me another sandwich.)

Cashier #2: “Check it before you go out.”

Me: “I was already planning to.”

(I opened it and it was chicken, slathered in mayo. Finally, approximately an hour after I had first put in my order at the drive thru speaker, I finally had my food. And they ignored me when I asked for my money back.)

I’ll Beatle You To It

| USA | At The Checkout, Employees, History, Musical Mayhem

(I am on vacation with my family and in the eighth grade, wearing a Beatles T-shirt. As we are buying food for lunch at a grocery store, the cashier notices my shirt and starts quizzing me as he’s checking out our food.)

Cashier: “What was their original name?”

Me: “The Quarrymen.”

Cashier: “What’s Ringo’s real name?”

Me: “Richard Starkey.”

Cashier: “Who was the original drummer?”

Me: “Pete Best.”

Cashier: “Who was the original bassist?”

Me: “Stu Sutcliffe.”

Cashier: “Who was their manager?”

Me: “Brian Epstein.”

Cashier: “What label did they work under?”

Me: “Apple.”

Cashier: “Who was their sound manager?”

Me: “George Martin.”

Cashier: “Who died first?”

Me: “John.”

Cashier: “Who died second?”

Me: “George.”

(He seemed pretty happy to know I knew all those facts.)

Putting The Fired Into Hired, Part 3

| MI, USA | Job Seekers, School

(Each year we hire a student half-time reporter through a scholarship program. In addition to sending the position info to various departments on campus, we also post fliers in areas like the Student Center to try and attract as many candidates as possible. Please note that this takes place approximately six weeks into the football season.)

Student: *wanders past the front desk and into my office unannounced* “Hello?”

Me: *startled* “Yes, can I help you?”

Student: “Sorry. I’m just so tired. I haven’t slept at all in like three days.”

Me: “What?”

Student: *pulls creased and folded, obviously stolen, flier out of his pocket* “I’ll take this job.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Student: “This halftime reporter job. I’ll take it.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we hired someone almost two months ago. Football season has been going for over six weeks.”

Student: “But I have the flier! You’re making a big mistake! I’d be perfect for this!”

Me: “Ignoring the fact that you obviously removed a flier from a public bulletin board and that the job is already filled, barging into my office and demanding I hire you isn’t the best way to start this conversation.”

Student: “Fine! But you’re making a big mistake!”

Putting The Fired Into Hired, Part 2
Putting The Fired Into Hired

Heimdall Didn’t See That One Coming

| Lancashire, England, UK | Bizarre/Silly, Employees, Technology

(Our phone has caller display and unwanted calls tend to come up as either ‘Unavailable’ or ‘Withheld’. On this occasion the display shows ‘Unavailable’ but I answer it anyway. There is a pause before the obvious chatter of a call centre came on. )

Me: “Hello, Asgard? Loki speaking.”

Caller: “Hello, I am from the Windows Service Centre and I am calling about your computer. How are you today?”

Me: “Okay.”

Caller: “You are getting errors on your computer; there are problems in the files which will cause it to crash at some point.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Caller: “Are you in front of your computer?”

Me: “No.”

Caller: “You need to go to your computer and turn it on, and tell me when it’s ready. I am holding the line.”

Me: “Okay.” *pretends to call to another person* “Thor? Where’s the computer?” *puts phone down for a minute or so before going back to the call* “It’s not here.”

Caller: “The computer is not there?”

Me: “No, it’s in Midgard.”

Caller: “What? It’s where?”

Me: “Midgard.”

Caller: “Where’s that? Is that another town?”

Me: “It’s a whole other land. This is Asgard.”

Caller: *confused* “…Do you have a laptop?”

Me: “We have no need for computers here. We’re gods; we don’t need a laptop. We use magic and godly powers.”

Caller: “…I’m calling about the Windows operating system.”

Me: “Yeah, we don’t use it here.”

Caller: *increasingly confused* “Okay, bye.”

Me: *cheerily* “Bye!”