Working in food service places is no joke. Customers will make it a point to come in, wreak havoc and then asked to speak to your manager. Where is the logic?
To all you food workers out there, the not-so-terrible people left in the world appreciate you - thank you.
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'Oh, this will do' she said and closes the door. I know I had a few dollars over what she needed, so not only did she not tip me, I actually lost a couple bucks. It was a fairly far order too, so I wasn't going to start trouble for such a small amount, but it sure did upset me."
"I worked at a burger joint in Hamburg, Germany while I was studying there. We were slammed at lunch with people backed out the door and this guy paid for his lunch with a 20 dollar bill. He waited 20 minutes, then came back in and demanded another 30 Marks in change, claiming he had given me a 50 dollar note. I had no way to prove to the customer or my manager what he had paid with so I had to give him the 30 out of my drawer.
At the end of my shift, my till was 30 dollars short. The same manager who made me give him the money docked my pay 30 marks and it took me six hours of work to earn that back."
"I manage a restaurant and deal with the slickest customers ever on a regular basis. Just a few hours ago I had a large table with split checks that were really treating the server horribly. We were glad to see them go. Instead of waiting at the table to pay for the multiple checks, they all stood around in a group at the front while we worked out the bills.
In the cluster of chaos they caused, one of them (a mother with a small child), casually walked out the front door without paying. We noticed that the bill was still unpaid as they all left, but the group assured me that she went to the bathroom. One minute later, after checking, the entire group was headed down the road. I confronted them and they told me that she wasn't with them and they didn't even know who she was.
Ugh...where the heck is a cop when I need one."
"30 years ago, I worked for a pizza place as a delivery guy. At the time, if you didn't get your pizza 30 minutes after you placed the order, you could get the pizza for free. There was this one black dude (I mention race for a reason, as you will see) who was at the VERY limit of my delivery area. I mean, it took almost 25 minutes just to drive there.
So, he always would call and order a pizza one-half hour before we closed, like at 1:30 in the morning if we closed at 2:00.
So, the first time I delivered pizza to him, I was late, and he got the pizza for free (you had to ask to borrow his phone and call for permission, which I did) and got no tip.
He ordered again. Again because of other deliveries and traffic, I was late. He got a free pizza and I got no tip.
He ordered a third time. This time, I was ready. The car was warmed up and ready to go. I made sure his pizza was first in the oven, first to come out. His pizza was the only one in my car I wasn't even taking the chance of trying to deliver anyone else's pizza on the same run.
I got it there on time. He then launched into the longest, hate-filled, race rant (I'm white) I've ever experienced. In fact, the only one I ever experienced. I just stand there and took it, and then I left.
From that time on until the day I quit, I could always expect him to order at 1:30 am on a Friday night. And I would always be in a race to deliver the pizza to him on time. Most often I would be on time; sometimes I would be late, and he'd get a free pizza. When I was on time, I could expect to get yet another racist rant or diatribe hurled my way.
I never lost my cool, I wish I could say because I was stronger than him, but because I'd grown up with an abusive father and knew how to take it. Well, in a way I was stronger because though I was silent, I still was thinking to myself how much a jerk he was (just like I did with my father)."
"There was this woman who came to my register with a whole bunch of large cuts of meat. I went to scan them automatically, but when I grabbed the label, it moved. Thank god for slightly damp meat packages. She had taken the labels of old cuts of meat she bought and dug out of the trash. There were $20 cuts of meat with $7 labels! I called my manager over.