We certainly aren't

One of our waitresses has a bad habit of punching out incorrectly. How does one do that? By punching out in the same space on your time card where you punched in, rendering them both unreadable. She does this pretty much every day.

She found herself the recipient of some mild, good-natured ribbing about this habit today, but she didn't take it well. She became very defensive and snapped that anyone could make the mistake. When someone pointed out that no one but her ever has, she fired back:

"Yeah, well, that's 'cause y'all ain't smart like me."

Um. Sure.

Lend me your ears

The phone rings.

"Thank you for calling Pizza Place, can I help you?"
"Is this the Smith residence?"

Yes. Yes, it is. Because we at the Smith residence always answer our phone like we're running a pizza joint.

*facepalm*

I was told there would be no math

The phone rings.

"Thank you for calling Pizza Place, can I help you?"
"Yes, I have a coupon for a specialty pizza for $12.99."
"Okay, what would you like?"
"I want to get a pepperoni pizza."
"Um...okay. Your coupon is for a specialty pizza, though."
"Yeah, but all I want is pepperoni."
"Okay. Well, it's cheaper without the coupon."
"No, no, I want to use the coupon."
"...?"
"So just give me pepperoni."
"Um...okay. We have a specialty pizza that's nothing but pepperoni; it's just covered with the stuff. 100 slices of pepperoni."*
"No, that's too much. Just regular pepperoni."
"...All right. That'll be fourteen dollars."
"Thanks."
"....?!"

*Yes, 100 slices. Yes, they count them. Yes, the cooks hate making them.

I don't think that's how it works

Overheard today at Pizza Place:

WAITRESS: Oh, if my mom sees my paycheck stub and sees I spent money on food here, she'll be mad.
COOK: So? You're eighteen, right? It's your money, right? It's, like, five dollars, right?
WAITRESS: No, no, no...
COOK: You can do whatever you want.
WAITRESS: No, I can't be rebellious. If I rebel, I'll get pregnant. It's in my genes.

I suppose it's possible she said jeans instead. That would make about as much sense.

Saturday Night Specials, Part 4: Cocaine is a hell of a drug

Saturday night. Six minutes before close. The phone rings. Mini Boss answers.

"Pizza Place, can I help you?"
"Gallery Furniture!"

Okay then. Before we continue, I feel it necessary to stress that these events actually happened. I was there.

"I'm sorry?"
"Hahahaha -- didn't expect to hear that, huh? 'Gallery Furniture!' Blew your mind when you picked up the phone and I said that, didn't it?" [unhinged laughter]
"Um...can I help you?"

The wacko proceeds to try to sell Mini Boss furniture. Over the phone. At ten o'clock on a Saturday night. And not as an employee of Gallery Furniture -- he continues to refer to them in the third person: "They got the best selection, man, they really do."

Mini Boss lets him ramble for a while, probably he wants to give me material for this website. (Thanks!) After getting ten minutes of furniture shopping tips, Mini Boss tells the guy that's he already bought quite a bit from Gallery Furniture, which is true. "I've got, like, two thousand dollars of stuff I'm getting next week."

"What?" the man says. "Don't go there! They're terrible! Go to [other furniture store]!"
"Uh...okay."

The man continues to ramble about couches and tables and such. At one point, he raises his voice and declares, "Let me tell you something!"

Mini Boss waits.

Silence.

"Hello?" Mini Boss says.

"Yeah?" the wacko responds.

So much for telling us something.

Mini Boss quickly loses his patience after that, and a minute later, tells him "Look, I gotta close up." The guy pleasantly agrees, and hangs up. Mini Boss turns to me.

"That has got to go on the website."

As requested, sir.