CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Disgruntled means annoyed, so obviously if someone is annoyed with you they have lost their gruntle.

Can you ever be just "whelmed"?

Jerry Cotton posted:

Jerry Cotton posted:

Sure; for some reason the fortified version just got really popular.

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Can you ever be just "whelmed"?

Stoatbringer posted:

Wait, so what does it mean to be under-submerged?

Tunicate posted:

I tried to pick and choose from these but they're all so incredible.

Jerry Cotton posted:

What about inundated instead of undated?

flosofl posted:

How about irregardless.

flosofl posted:

These have put me very close to a rage state.

Tunicate posted:

I tried to pick and choose from these but they're all so incredible.

Choco1980 posted:

I'd say the one with the humblebrag about helping starving kids in Africa was the topper here.

Tunicate posted:

Tunicate posted:

Jerry Cotton posted:

I think I recently saw it while reading one of the earlier Discworld novels but it's such an obvious pun or play on words* that it's probably been around for longer.

*) REFERENCES LOL AMIRITE?!?

Samizdata posted:

Ummmm, no. In Discworld it is a pune.

Paladinus posted:

Ugh. Especially the one about the disabled dreamy boy.

Bertrand Hustle posted:

Yeah, Jesus that is obnoxious. Oh, such a shame an attractive person has a disability, because it completely negates his value as a human being, which of course he only had in the first place because he was attractive.

What about unattractive people with disabilities? Do they matter? Maybe dreamboatchair has a fulfilling life with a career he enjoys and a significant other who loves and respects him and he doesn't need or want the condescending, infantilizing pity of randos on the street.

Tunicate posted:

I tried to pick and choose from these but they're all so incredible.

quote:

I have been serving and bartending for over 9 years, so I've seen it all. I'll leave this one for now, but if this thread picks up and people want more stories, I'd be happy to tell the childspawn from hell story, the creepy regular who made 4 female bartenders change shifts, or about the regular who tried to be my sugar daddy and when I refused, he tried to purchase me, like actually buy me...

About 2 years ago I was serving in an Alehouse that was a popular spot for business lunches, especially with government officials. I know the type as soon as they sit down, and I know the drill. Greet, round of waters or tea, immediately put in order, drop food, pick up food, and drop check at the same time. No interaction, unless they extend it first.

Well an older, say 60+ woman (so dubbed plate lady, PL) comes in with another woman, who was probably in her 40s. I start to say "Hi, my name is...", and immediately PL interrupts me and says "TWO WATERS, NO ICE, NO LEMON. TWO CRAB CAKE SANDWICHES, BOTH WITH FRIES." And then turns away from me and carries on her conversation. Well that's a weird way to say my name, but sure, why not. I put in the orders and drop the waters and promptly ignore them. Someone else runs the food so I approach the table to check on them and PL practically shouts at me before I even say anything, "CAN YOU NOT SEE WE ARE TALKING?? SHOO!" Alright, sure, glad the food is satisfactory.

I thought they would have the typical quick business lunch and would want to get out of there and back to the office, so once I see their plates are empty, PL even had her napkin on the plate, I approach to clear their dishes, silly me. I slightly bent down and extended my arm, barely touching PL's plate and said "Sorry to interrupt, may I clear this for you?" PL reacted as if I told her the only payment we excepted was for her to give every cook in the kitchen a lap dance. She shouted "WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU TAKE MY PLATE? CAN YOU NOT SEE SHE ISN'T FINISHED? WERE YOU NEVER TAUGHT MANNERS???" I look at her companion's dish, and there are maybe three fries left. She tries to push me her plate, but PL insists she takes her time and not let "the help" rush her.

So I leave and walk to the servers station, only to hear her shouting at the top of her lungs a few moments later. My manager turns the corner into the servers station looking shocked and says "Wow, what a bitch! Who has table 52??? I just tried to clear her plate and she freaked!" As I'm filling her in, I hear PL shout again, this time with a string of expletives. A moment later, our 15 year old busser runs into the service station pale and terrified. He also tried to clear the plates.

I fill in the rest of the servers not to approach them, and I just completely ignore them, casually standing at the end of the bar, so they can see me, and I can see their waters are near empty. The fries long gone. After about 20 minutes PL starts snapping wildly around her trying to get anyone's attention, but the servers all steer clear. I calmly approach with a smile, and PL starts shouting about what does it take to get her plates cleared? Can't I see that they've been finished for half an hour? I smile and clear the plates, and say "M'am, I was under the impression you wanted to take your time. No rush, but here is your check." I placed it on the table and walked away. She paid pretty quickly and huffed out of the restaurant, no tip of course. The younger woman walked passed me on her way out and shrugged her shoulders as if in apology. I just looked at her and said, "No, I'm sorry for you." They would come in every once in a while and the servers started a system with who had to deal with them based on who owed who a favor, or who came in late last, who owed who a beer, etc. Luckily they refused me as a server again, so I never had to deal with them.

quote:

At the place I used to work for, children could get a free cookie - slightly bigger than a Chips Ahoy cookie - as long as they agreed to finish a small cup of fruit or vegetables of their choice with their meal, children 6 or older could get a "jumbo" cookie - which was maybe an inch wider than a normal one - if they chose a fruit *and* vegetable cup. We were pretty busy every Friday; customers could come in as groups of three to six and pay $5 per person (must be 13 or over by law and health regulation) to participate in Friday's Eat It and Beat It contest, where each group must order twice as many entrees, at least two appetizers, and at least three sides per person, as well as a 20 inch pie for the table, and must have all dishes cleared within an hour in order to "beat it" without paying for the full meal. If they couldn't finish, they were given a bill to pay for the dishes they didn't finish as well as a loser's fine where they paid their admission fees again.

Surprisingly, all was well for a few years and people *loved* it, until one Friday night... A total cluster of six customers came in - presumable a family - consisting of an adult man, two teenagers, an elderly woman, and two children, one that looked maybe 6 and one that I guess was a preschooler. I gave them a table and immediately the man said, "We're here for the Eat It or Beat It."

I replied, "Four [admits], I see?"

"No, six."

I proceeded to tell him that the two children didn't qualify. But he pointed to the school aged child, who pulled out a very bad attempt at a fake ID, handdrawn herself, with "15 year old" written in colored pencil with adult handwriting that was nothing like her name written above it in kid font. She was yelling at me that she was ~~13, no~~ 15 and she "drives and can drink 'cause she's an adult" and that her little brother there was 13 but "forgot his license".

I said, "You two unfortunately can't be in this contest because the law says so." Then to make her feel better: "But you can each win a cookie!"

Her little brother lit up and started to shout at me and went from 0-100 in a full-blown tantrum, demanding he get a cookie.

The man, presumed father, was then complaining and said to me "Now look what you've done."

One of the teenagers practically begged me to just take orders, so I began with the four for the contest. When I got to the little girl, she started naming random things from the menu, even things she couldn't pronounce, like the adults had done. I explained to her and the family that she nor the boy were qualified, but that they could both get a C-O-O-K-I-E if they picked a fruit or vegetable.

The other teenager asked, "Why'd you spell out 'cookie'?"

The little boy went into full-out tantrum again, because he didn't get one the first time I said that we had cookies.

The man gave me a death stare and then facepalmed and said, "Why do you have to do this...?"

The elderly lady screamed, "C'mon lady, where the hell is our food?!"

Then the little girl stood up and told her brother, loudly over his tantrum, "Don't worry, I'll get you one..." She bolted over two tables where another child was crying and trying to simultaneously enjoy their jumbo cookie and snatched it away.

I had to pick up after the boy, after the rest of the family just watched him proceed to cry and squirt condiments and dump pepper all over. I broke my own awkward, broken silence to tell her that her brother will need to eat some fruits or veggies and he can get his own cookie.

The man replied, "gently caress your fruits and veggies, she's getting one for her brother right now!"

One of the teenagers poured barbecue sauce down the little boy's head and, when the boy whined, told him, "Well, that's how the table must feel!"

The elderly lady flipped her lid completely, saying that if I would've just broke the law this night would not have been a disaster and then insisted I give them their tip. When I told her that that is not how tips work, she yelled, "I ain't giving you nothing! We ain't even have our food."

After expressing his disappointment in my service, the man announced, not even trying to be discreet, that if I spend the night at his place and "toss his salad" then he wouldn't report me to the manager. I politely declined, resulting in him telling me, "Well, I ain't tossing *yours*! I don't know where yours has been!"

The elderly lady informed me that I could be pardoned from paying their tip if I did some favors for her as well. One of the teenagers whispered, "Tell her to toss *my* salad..." The little girl commented, "I don't want mine tossed. She might drop it. I don't eat off the floor." The other teenager added, extremely upset, "I don't want salad... I hate lettuce and carrots... Ugh, guys..."

Security was glad to get them out. We reduced cost to other customers to compensate. I bought the one child a new jumbo cookie and apologized.

TL;DR: No, I won't toss *yours* either, don't even ask...

oldpainless posted:

I have no idea what happened in that story

oldpainless posted:

I have no idea what happened in that story

RenegadeStyle1 posted:

Why would that contest be against the law for children?

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

I think that story may be made up.