Sentient Data posted:

Hmm, now I want to make some Wiccan/nature-ish poster design with plants and Celtic lettering and whatnot that says something like "Keep this planet green, worship Yahweh, the god of the forests" and take a picture with a kid kneeling next to it with a candle or something; would be fun to see how far that could make it in the outrage circles before they realize what's going on

goose fleet posted:

All that "Allah" means is "God" and yet people seem to think Allah is a separate deity or something

trickybiscuits posted:

It's a public account so no hiding the name:



On the account he said that people weren't sure whether this story was real. GEE I WONDER WHY

eta: "This means more than you can imagine."

quote:

http://notalwaysworking.com/acting-like-a-complete-cock-tail/39388

Acting Like A Complete Cock-tail
Bar | Sydney, NSW, Australia | Food & Drink, Health & Body

(I work in the bar of a nice hotel in Kings Cross and one of the “guests” (a highly arrogant and condescending man) comes in with what appears to be an “escort.” They come up to the bar and are about to order drinks when the gentleman guest (and I mean that in the broadest definition) asks:)

Guest: “I want you to make the strongest drink you know.”

(As I have spent several years trying to create the world’s strongest cocktail that tastes non-alcoholic, I take the challenge with pleasure. After she is about half way through the drink she is becoming very friendly, so the guest takes it that he should try one of these drinks I have created, but in his supreme arrogance at being a bit of a high-flyer, says:)

Guest: “I want that drink too, but you should make mine even stronger!”

(There are laws in Australia about how much liquor you can put in a cocktail which I, in the previous creation, have disregarded, and so now I am excited to see how far I can push it. Both guests are somewhat peaked. They leave and I close the bar for the night. The next day arrives, and I have set up the bar, and who would be the first person to walk in? None other that our “guest,” no escort this time. He approaches the bar and seems a little worse for wear. He leans over the bar and in the most gruff and threatening almost whisper says:)

Guest: “If you ever make me a drink like that again, I will have you fired.”

quote:

I have spent several years trying to create the world’s strongest cocktail that tastes non-alcoholic

Sentient Data posted:

quote:

This Call Is Temporarily Frozen
CALL CENTER | USA | BIZARRE, FOOD & DRINK, MUSICAL MAYHEM
(I work in a call center for a large wireless company.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Wireless Company]. My name is [My Name]. May I have your name, please?”

Customer: “Anna Arendelle.”

Me: “And the phone number please?”

Customer: “Can I ask you a question?”

Me: “Sure!”

Customer: *singing* “Do you want to build a snowman? Or ride our bikes around the halls?”

Me: *starts laughing* “I think someone’s talking to pictures on the walls…”

Customer: “It gets a little lonely, all these empty rooms, watching the hours tick by. Tick tock! BYE BYE!” *click*

(I was laughing so hard I had to take a break.)

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Well I have it on good authority he's actually a Moon God sooooooo

Matt Hardin posted:

This took place several years ago in the town of Fayetteville, AR, at a restaurant known as ROTC (The Restaurant on the Corner). The waiter in question, we’ll call him Simon, was a waiter who earned the favor of regulars by being efficient and direct but made no attempt to be pleasant just to fish for tips or, frankly, for any reason whatsoever. Curt, typically scowling, and on weekend mornings and afternoons and almost invariably severely hung over, he could be a nightmare for newcomers not prepared for the no-nonsense approach he took to the job.

One Sunday brunch, I and some friends were dining there when the table besides us, a family of five or six people, flagged him down. Now, they weren’t especially rude, but it was a very busy morning and they weren’t his customers (their waiter had been gone for several minutes). “Young man,” the matron of the group said to him, indicating the baked potato on her plate, “I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. I ordered hash browns. That is a baked potato.”

Simon stood there for a few silent seconds with a blank expression, like he was only slowly able to process the events taking place before him. Then with a look of genuine confusion, he leaned over and eyeballed the potato. Slowly, gently, he reached over and lifted it from her plate. He stood again and inspected it, holding it above his head to check the underside, turning it around to investigate every angle. Then, seemingly satisfied with his evaluation, he returned it to her plate, turned to her and replied, “You’re absolutely right, ma’am, that IS a baked potato!” Then, leaning down in an almost conspiratorial fashion, he pointed towards the kitchen and said, “Don’t let them fool you!”

With that, and before the shocked and confused customers could immediately respond, he made off to the back, leaving them speechless and our table trying to suppress muffled giggles.

Dani Taylor posted:

I was working in a confectionery stand/bar in a small theater. It was opening night for Rocky Horror and we had these flashing daiquiri cups that we used to serve, well, daiquiris. We served them in all our previous shows too, and the amount of parents who would get upset when we said their children couldn’t have them because they were not “slushies” was disturbing. “But little Johnny wants it.” “Yes, but I can’t serve a child alcohol.” “But he wants it!” “I can put coke in it if you like, and he can have the cup.” “No, he wants a slushy!” “We don’t serve slushies. You can buy the cup and go to 7-11 afterwards?” *entitled parental rage rant* And so it would go.

This night was particularly special. Post-show, we didn’t serve drinks, and the tills were already packed up, so I was closing down the bar. I was usually always so polite, but I had become a broken woman from years of daiquiri-slushy meltdowns—and I had been screamed at twice that day by D-grade ‘celebrities’ who were attending the opening. Being an opening, champagne, beer, wine and soft drinks were free. Our infamous machine-made daiquiris, however, were not, since management wanted to try and make some money out of all these nobodies.

A severely drunk man approached the bar and grabbed a cup.

“I’m just going to take this.”

“Cool, but then I’m going to call the cops straight after.”

“Oh no, it’s fine, I’m friends with the owner.”

“Great, I hear he buys his friends expensive gifts, so you can ask him for this cheap cup instead when you next see him then.”

“Do you know who I–”

“No. Have we met?”

“You’re really cheeky.”

“You’re really entitled.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you fired.”

I handed him my phone. “OK. Why don’t you call (owner’s name) now since you’re such great friends and ask for the cup and get me fired because I’m doing my job and not letting someone I don’t know steal his stock?”

Long pause.

I called security over, got my cup back and the guy got thrown out. Turns out the cup was broken anyway so I ended up just throwing the loving thing out.

I worked there two more years and got several promotions, so I guess they were best friends.

(Editor’s Note: Holy poo poo, Dani is my loving hero.)

John Carp posted:

I was working drive-thru at a charming Mexican cantina chain with a talking Chihuahua for a mascot (we affectionately called it Toxic Hell), when a man sporting the local Tennessee drawl pulls up and asks, “‘scuze me...? Do y’all have burr-ee-toes?” I recall clearly that we had more varieties of burrito on the menu than any other kind of fake-rear end TexMex “cuisine” (even more than the namesake product). Further, note that, in the drive-thru, there’s a board that spells all that crap out.

I don’t know where my response came from, but it made me believe in angels or the collective subconscious or whatever.

“No, sir. You want Burrito Bell. They’re right down the street.”

He paused, said “Okay,” and drove off.[/Quote=Carly Werth]

I worked for a very small, independent coffee house throughout my undergrad. The place was well known in the city where I lived; employees and customers alike were quite fond of it. We were in a wealthier part of the city, so I dealt with a lot of upper-class white ladies in expensive yoga pants who ordered really complicated drinks, but I wasn’t bothered by them. The obnoxious customers were the coffee snobs who would want to huff and chew the beans to make sure they were “fresh enough” (we roasted all our beans a few blocks away), or guys who would stand over us while we did a pour-over, timing it on their iPhones.

One day I had an middle-aged gentleman come in who liked to think of himself as an expert on all things beverage-related. He had recently decided to become an expert on teas. He was testing my knowledge with a lot of questions that led me to believe he didn’t actually know much. I didn’t mind him too much at first and went along with it, trying to gently explain the difference between white, black, green, and other teas and how they all aren’t the stuff that comes in a bag from Lipton. He made a comment about how he liked their tea; “it’s clean tasting.” and I said something like, “It’s funny you mention that, because I just read this article on black teas in The Economist—”

And before I can even finish, the guy is throwing back his head and belly-laughing. “Oh!” He says, fake-wiping a tear from his eye, and in a really condescending tone goes on, “Did you accidentally pick up your husband’s magazine?”

In an equally lovely tone, I just responded, “Would it make you feel better if I said I’d read it in Cosmo?”

Ian Summers posted:

I don’t know what came over me, but this loud, obnoxious jerk (who was in a rush, of course) came running into my restaurant, he kept asking me questions, then interrupting when I tried to answer...and I just lost a little self control.

Guy: I’ll take a burger with lettuce and tomato.

Me: We don’t have lettuce or toma—

Guy: YOU’RE A HOT DOG AND BURGER PLACE AND YOU DON’T HAVE LETTUCE AND TOMATO???

Me: (fed up) No, we’re an alligator and party hat place, and today we’re giving away KAZOOOOOS!

...and then we just stand there staring at each other, because neither one of us knows what the gently caress just came out of my mouth. Then the girl standing behind him just starts LOSING it. Like, laughing so hard she can’t breathe, so I start laughing, and now we’re just laughing in this guy’s face.

Guy: .........I guess i’ll have a hot dog.

Squalitude posted:

I was in a McDonalds in Random Town, as they're doing Super Mario Happy Meal toys (I tell the clerk it's for my kid at home and scored a super-rare Yoshi today!) and happened to notice that they sell Coke Zero, which I haven't seen in a McDonalds for ages, so I politely asked for some with my meal.

As I waited for the rest of my food (two cheeseburgers plain, add ketchup) I tried the drink but noticed immediately that it tasted really rank. I then noticed one of the morbidly obese managers wobbling past so I very politely asked her if I could swap the drink for a Fanta orange instead. Obviously not my first choice, but Fanta will do in a pinch. She then proceeded to explain in a quite condescending manner that Coke Zero simply tastes different than Coke Classic, mentioning some nonsense about the bubbles. Without missing a beat, I calmly and politely retorted with an explanation of how I drink a lot of Coke Zero, so I knew it wasn't right.

The amazing thing was that she emphasized her point by saying she'd had to explain to someone else the same thing earlier that day, so to an enormous rude wage-slave idiot like her, the fact that two customers had the same complaint only strengthened her beliefs.

I also found it fascinating that she ACTUALLY THOUGHT IT WAS WORTH ARGUING WITH A CUSTOMER over a few pennies of a fizzy drink, rather than swap it and get instant goodwill. I pay her bills by buying cheeseburgers from her, after all.

"Ma'am, if you don't give me a new drink immediately, I'm going to call the BBB. You will lose your job. Neither of us want to see that happen" I said, adjusting my trademark fedora. "Don't make me get you fired."

There was a stunned silence throughout the whole McDonald's. Everyone was staring at her, waiting to see what happened next. When she raised her hand and began to speak, I reflexively reached for my katana.

"Fine, I guess I'll let it slide this time. Next time, order something you actually want to drink, okay," said the rotund hog of a woman. She then gave me the Fanta, although in a very exasperated manner while the other patrons rolled their eyes, then I got my food and proceeded to eat it normally after checking for signs of wage-slave spit.

As I was finishing up, a petite redheaded girl with a slight dusting of freckles across her nose approached me. "That was really cool," she muttered, looking at her feet adorably.

We've been married six years this October.

GOTTA STAY FAI posted:

i got u fam

ElwoodCuse posted:

There's one going around now about "Cop tries to use bathroom at Starbucks, gets told bathroom is for paying customers only". It's missing the usual "snarky comeback then everyone applauds" but I like how while it's slanted to make the cop sympathetic it just as easily shows that cops are whiny babies who expect special treatment from everyone else.

GOTTA STAY FAI posted:

i got u fam

ElwoodCuse posted:

There's one going around now about "Cop tries to use bathroom at Starbucks, gets told bathroom is for paying customers only". It's missing the usual "snarky comeback then everyone applauds" but I like how while it's slanted to make the cop sympathetic it just as easily shows that cops are whiny babies who expect special treatment from everyone else.

EKDS5k posted:

Even if there were a Starbucks that restricted restroom use to paying customers only (there isn't), I don't believe that the average Starbucks employee would have the spine to say no to a uniformed police officer.

Squalitude posted:

Cor, that was impressive. So glad I didn't waste time beat-skipping like a pleb! Also I have no idea what a BBB is but I am totally going to start threatening people with it.

GOTTA STAY FAI posted:

Better Business Bureau. It's sort of a pre-Internet rating system for businesses. Old and/or dumb people seem to think it's some kind of regulatory body here in the U.S. though, so that's the threat they usually hurl at managers at [BUSINESS] in [TOWN]

Sorry I left out the part where your totally not made-up soon-to-be wife saw your sonic screwdriver and you two quoted Dr. Who for an hour while everybody clapped. I was in a hurry this morning.

GOTTA STAY FAI posted:

Sorry I left out the part where your totally not made-up soon-to-be wife saw your sonic screwdriver and you two quoted Dr. Who for an hour while everybody clapped. I was in a hurry this morning.

EKDS5k posted:

Even if there were a Starbucks that restricted restroom use to paying customers only (there isn't), I don't believe that the average Starbucks employee would have the spine to say no to a uniformed police officer.

EKDS5k posted:

Even if there were a Starbucks that restricted restroom use to paying customers only (there isn't), I don't believe that the average Starbucks employee would have the spine to say no to a uniformed police officer.

nerd plus rage posted:

STDH.txt: My name is (MY NAME)

quote:

This 12yo girl in my neighborhood has a crush on my boyfriend and knocks on our door almost every day to ask him to play. We found this under our doormat after she walked by us tossing a football outside.

EmmyOk posted:

A 12 year old saying "hurted" hrm

MindlessHavok posted:

The worst part about this is that someone named their kid after a Matrix character.

MindlessHavok posted:

I know this girl that's friends with my girlfriend that constantly posts about the poo poo that happens to her. She writes for some blog and has a ton of people following her on FB and Instagram so she always gets tons of comments on her stuff. Most of the time it's backed up by pictures (most recently her car got broken into) but this time it was just too much for me.

She makes a post about how some guy snatched her purse and ran off but he was quickly caught and arrested. She goes on to say how she asked to be able to talk to the guy but the cops wouldn't let her...so she wrote him a note instead.




I cropped it the way I did because she wrote her name and number at the bottom.

People are falling all over themselves to talk about how gracious she is and all that. Even if this were true, what kind of self-aggrandizing knob do you have to be to post something like this?


The worst part about this is that someone named their kid after a Matrix character.