I have been called a c**t, by a woman at work once (I happen to be a girl).
Two years in a row I've been told by customers that I've personally ruined their Christmas.
On Superbowl a customer told me it was my fault that she was missing Superbowl and her sons birthday. She called me a bitch... Several times.
I had a customer get offended when I asked him to stop swearing at other customers because there are little children around. He went to management and said I'm being rude.
My manager said, "She is right you do need to watch your language in the store, or you will be escorted out."
He was swearing at me and another customer. Now I'm just oh so nice to him its ridiculous.
I have some African American customers who think I'm racist. Fuck that I am not going against policy because other stores do it for you.
I've had this one kid call management on me twice already. I flat out refuse to help him. I can't think of anything else, but I've been called a lot of things. Welcome to the life of deli. I've got plenty of stories, but I want a good one, one day.
This story involves me, coworker, Customer A and Customer B.
Coworker is helping Customer A with a salad and some deli meat. Customer B walks up the counter. I walk over and ask if I can help her.
She says she's looking. I ask if she'd like to sample any of our salads.
Customer A pipes up and says, "You have to try the sundried tomato and cucumber salad; it's really good."
Me: "Would you like a sample of that one?"
Customer B: "hmm, yeah that does look good. I'll think about it for a minute."
20 seconds later she says, "Yeah why don't you give me a sample of that one."
I grab a sample cup and tasting spoon and start to scoop some of the sundried tomato and cucumber salad when customer A pipes up.
"Excuse me, she wanted to try the mock crab salad, not that one."
Customer B: "No I wanted that one." Customer B tries it and wants just a small container of it. I get that and she leaves the counter.
Customer A says to me, "Learn to pay attention, she wanted the crab salad."
Uh no, we were talking about the other one, which you brought up in the first place and said she wanted a sample of that one.
She leaves and coworker and I just kind of stare at each for a while, trying to figure out what just happened.
Questions! So many questions!
Our Amish barbecue stand has added a new item to their menu: turkey kielbasa sausage. They already sell turkey-based meatloaf, ham, and bacon. These products are hideously awful. But apparently the very special snowflakes who are our customers in this upscale farmers market prefer food made from white meat turkey, and not meat which actually taste good because it is made from pigs!
Seriously, turkey scrapple? My Amish grandparents are turning in their graves.
So today the barbecue stand had a banner saying “Try our new turkey kielbasa!” And here are some of the questions which I heard while I was passing by at various times during the day.
“What is the difference between pork kielbasa and turkey kielbasa?”
“What does the turkey kielbasa taste like?”
“Why do they call it turkey kielbasa?”
“What part of the body is a kielbasa? Is it the neck?”
At closing time, I went to the barbecue stand to pick up a rotisserie turkey breast that I’d ordered earlier in the day. I struck a pose and said, using my whiniest, most grating soccer-mom voice:
“What is this turkey made of? Does it have pork in it? Was it cured with nitrates? Is it hormone free?” … and continued asking questions until I was pelted with leftover dinner rolls by the waitstaff.
11 year grocery store veteran checking in.
I spent my first 6 years in the Deli dept. I liked my job, for the most part. My customers all got to know me, my co-workers were cool... the work was kinda stressful, at times. Reminded me of fast-food. But all in all, I had way more good days than bad ones. I was so good at that job. I took pride in knowing sandwiches well, like what cheese goes well with what meats and stuff. I still consider myself a sandwich pro.
One evening early in my career (I was about 20 years old), I'm slicing away for my customers as usual, a guy comes up to my counter. He says he wants some Boar's Head Ovengold Turkey, shaved. No problem. And a fine selection, too. Gotta be shaved. Anything else is lame for good turkey breast.
I shave off a nice, beautiful slice and show it to him to check the thickness and to eat the slice, if he'd like a sample. Standard stuff (slice, show, offer).
In case you're not aware, shaved turkey breast is basically shredded crumbs of turkey. It doesn't hold a slice when sliced super thin, like ham does. So the "slice" I offered him is really a bit of shreds and crumbs. But hey, that's what "shaved" means and that's how good turkey breast should be sliced. Just tastes better.
So he takes the slice (which is on a sheet of wax paper) and he doesn't like it.
"What in the hell is this?" He asks
"Is there something wrong?"
"Oh, I'm sorry about that. 'Shaved' means different things to different folks. Let me try another slice, a bit thicker, and we'll take a look and see-"
His phone rings.
"Hold on!" He says to me, "don't do nothin. Lemme take this call"
He answers the call and says the following to the person on the line:
"Hullo?... Yeah. At the store... The Deli, gettin lunch meat... I know... I said I know! I'd be home sooner, but I gotta deal with this idiot here at the counter... ... some kid... never seen him but he doesn't know what the hell he's doing... I know... I'll be home after I'm done here... bye."
He didn't even turn away to say this stuff. He didn't say it quietly. He was loud and proud about his disdain for me and my work. I pretended like I didn't hear him and I corrected the slice and finished helping him, while smiling and being as friendly and helpful as possible.
Facts to know: I work as a deli assistant at a popular grocery store in my state. In my store we have pre-sliced ham/chicken/turkey/salami etc. in the cabinet which makes up the majority of orders (although we do slice on order for customers who ask).
Now onto the story:
I was working the Easter Saturday grind (in Australia big supermarkets are usually closed Easter Friday, open Saturday, and closed Easter Sunday and Monday), been up since 5.30am, slicing ham, prepping the cabinet, cleaning, all the fun stuff. It gets to 1pm and I am all but done, I was supposed to be sent home a few hours back but it's very busy so I've stayed on.
A customer asks me for one of our more popular hams, 200g, I pick up his ham, put it on the scale, and it's 200g exactly on the scale! Unfortunately due to the paper weight, the tare brings it down to 190g but the customer is suitably impressed.
The customer next asks for 300g of Danish feta (of which ours are in variably sized blocks). I grab a block and put it on the scale, it weighs over 500g so my lessons in fractions of primary school comes back strongly.
I cut the feta (with the paper tare on) and Boom, 300g exactly. The customer now looks upon me with god-like reverence, and sleepy me is soaking it all up.
Dear employer; I have achieved elite customer service level, please increase pay above minimum wage. Thank you