Runs Like Clock-Jerk

| Midland, TX, USA | Bad Behavior, Bosses & Owners, Time

(I get to the order board at 10:20am. I am trying to order breakfast, when the manager runs out and flips the board over to the regular menu right as I pull up.)

Me: “Uh, I wanted to order breakfast…”

Manager: “Sorry, breakfast is over at 10:30.”

Me: “It’s 10:20.”

Manager: “Your watch is wrong.”

Me: “My wristwatch is atomic; the satellite radio on my dash and my cell phone are all likewise synchronized through their services and they’re all within 1/200th of a second.”

Manager: “My watch is what counts here.”

Me: “Let me guess; everyone is always late to work, too…” *drives off*


Finger Flavor

| MI, USA | Coworkers, Extra Stupid, Food & Drink, Health & Body

(I am recently hired at a popular burger chain. I’m doing dishes and washing a vegetable cutter in the same fashion I’d watched another employee wash it a few days prior. I end up cutting myself on it but decide not to go to the hospital for treatment because it isn’t a serious wound. A while later, after I can bandage it, I’m back out on lobby, sweeping. We have a new shake mix that is a very red color. I don’t realize until later that someone dripped some of it leading away from the sink to the break area.)

Coworker #1: “Is that blood?”

Coworker #2: “I really don’t think that’s blood.”

Coworker #1: “I know a girl cut her hand earlier.”



Their Logic Is A DuD

| GA, USA | Employees, Ignoring & Inattentive, Military, Popular

(I work as a civilian contractor for the Department of Defense. My time is spent on military bases, so I am required to wear a uniform similar to the military type, though mine says “Civilian Contractor” where the name would be on the breast. After one long day at work, I decide to head over to a local chain burger place to get something to eat before heading to my motel room to crash. Since I’ve just left the base, I am still in uniform, and don’t feel like heading to change. That’s how tired I am. Going inside, I wait patiently to be served, and then step up to the counter when my turn comes.)

Me: “I’ll have a [Order], and a large tea.”

Cashier: “You get a military discount if you have your ID.”

Me: “I’m not military.”

Cashier: “Then why are you dressed like that? It’s not hunting season…”

Me: “I’m DoD. So, no discount.”

Cashier: “There’s no such thing as ‘DoD.’ You mean EoD.”

Me: “No, DoD.”

Cashier: “I’m not serving you.”

Me: “Why not?”

Cashier: “I’m tired of you fakes coming in here and trying s***. Get you’re a** out of here before I call the police!”

Me: “Let me talk to your manager.”

Cashier: “No.”

Me: *raising voice* “I said, I want to speak to your manager, NOW.”

(At this point someone comes from the back, looking around. From the different uniform, I gather that the person is a manager.)

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

Cashier: *before I can speak* “He thinks he can lie to get a meal discount.”

Manager: “Is that true?”

Me: “No. As I told your genius here, I’m not in the military. I work for the DoD. I don’t want a discount; I just want to get my burger and tea and then go back to my room to sleep.”

Cashier: “DoD.” *scoffing* “I told him there’s no such thing. Stupid idiot can’t even keep his story straight. It’s EoD!”

Manager: “Look, I don’t want trouble, but if you don’t leave now, I’m going to have to call the police. Impersonating a soldier is a criminal offense.”

(About this point I hold up my hands.)

Me: “Fine. I’m done.”

(I head out and make a quick call to the owner — how I know him will become clear. He tells me to sit tight and he’ll be right there. About five minutes later, he drives up and I explain everything to him in the lot. We head back inside. The cashier sees me coming in, followed by him, and quickly turns to call the manager forward. The exchange is short but sweet.

Owner: “Now, correct me if I’m wrong here. A customer came in, ordered something, and you took it upon yourself to berate and embarrass him because you two morons think you know everything there is to know in this world?”

Manager: “He’s a liar, sir. Look, he keeps saying he works for the DoD. Everyone knows there’s no such thing. He means EoD…”

Owner: “No, you idiot. He means DoD. DoD as in Department of Defense. He works for the government; in particular, a defense contractor.”

Manager: “And you believe that?”

Owner: “Considering he’s engaged to my daughter, and I used to work for the same contractor he works for? Yeah, I’d say I believe it.”

(Heading outside with the him, we shared a laugh, and then a serious warning that he is going to tell my fiancé the whole story, and I’d never get to live it down. I still haven’t. Though now I do change before I go out for dinner — just in case.)


Please Continue To Work At Your Panic Station

| Golden, CO, USA | Bosses & Owners, Health & Body

(I am working the front register and we have a line to the door, for about an hour. My manager is supposed to be running for me, but he runs off. I have anxiety, and I am dealing with plenty of rude and impatient customers despite the fact we are completely slammed. When my manager finally returns, I have just finished an order, and five orders need to be brought out. I turn around to make a drink. I am about to have a panic attack.)

Manager: “[My Name], take orders.”

Me: “Sir, I know we are slammed, but could I just take a quick breather? Like, for two minutes, please? I could have a panic attack any minute now.”

Manager: “I know it’s stressful, but calm down and have your panic attack another time. This is bad timing.”

(Like I have any control over it.)