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I don't think I've recounted the story of the man our Sandwich Store Named After Underground Transportation dubbed either 'That Stupid Goddamn Picky Guy,' 'Oh God Here He Comes' or 'Yeah, I'm on Break' depending on who in our location you spoke to and what time you spoke to them. Every member of staff lived in fear of him. To make it far worse, this man was a very steady regular, in at least four times a week, and he had one request:
Cut his bread at exactly a 45 degree angle. To the point that he would bring a frigging protractor with him to measure the angle. Now, as any current or former Sandwich Artists knows the bread is...actually regularly cut pretty close to a 45 degree angle (unless the customer requests a U-cut,) but oh man. If your cut was so much as a single degree off...Mount 45 Degree Angle would erupt. And make you re-cut the bread as obscenities that would make the saltiest of pirates blush were flung at you while their volume was cranked to 11.
We had many theories about Mr. 45 Degree Angle Bread Man (hereafter referred to as Mr45DABM), including perhaps suffering from a severe combination of Tourette's and OCD. But if you cut his bread right, he was as pleasant as could be, and didn't care how sloppy the toppings on his sandwich got as long as his bread was his version of perfectly cut. Naturally, we never let new employees serve him, ever, and we veterans kept an eye out for him and would jump in to avoid the barrage of obscenities. He left several employees in tears and caused our store to have insanely high crew turnover.
To give you an idea, I was in the back preparing some veggies on our slicer one morning to prepare for our lunch rush when I heard a familiar, terrible voice I knew all too well come drifting into the back room. NOOO! An employee that's only been with us for a week was up front! We hadn't warned him yet! Mr45DABM almost never came in in the mornings, either! I was frantically putting our produce back in the fridge to get up front to rescue the new guy when it happened- the storm hitting full force.
"THAT IS NOT A 45 DEGREE ANGLE!!! DO I NEED TO GET OUT MY GODDAMN PROTRACTOR?!?one!!eleventy!!one"
"W-well sir, I-" When he saw me half-running out of the back room, my coworker was screaming 'Help!' as loud as he could through eyes that were as wide as a deer in a headlight's.
"F*CKING CUT IT AGAIN! NOW!" The word 'please' didn't exist in Mr45DABM's vocabulary when he was upset. He then recognized me and smiled, then scowled before pointing a finger in my coworker's direction. "Show him how to cut my bread! I know you know how, you do it right." Again, no 'please' anywhere to be seen from Mr45DABM.
I asked if he wanted his usual (toasted footlong tuna on wheat, extra mayo and pickles, light onion- it's burned into my memory) and there was a grunt and nod. I then pulled out a footlong and showed my coworker how to cut the bread (raise the knife angle slightly above the norm and go slow to ensure an even cut.) We got him out of the store as soon as we could, and once he was gone my coworker turned to me and shook his head, a dumbfounded expression on his face. The store was empty at this point.
"What in the actual heck was that all about?"
I explained the proclivities of Mr45DABM and regailed him with my personal theory, which is just that he liked making people jump and felt good about exercising 'power' over people that couldn't really fight back without risking their job. He then spoke the words every one of us in the store felt:
"Excuse my language, but what an a$%hole."
Now, for the Morning the My Favorite Customer Tore Mr45DABM Several New Arseholes.
One day, I was working a lunch shift (10 to 2) with a different coworker and one of my favorite customers came in. She was a super sweet single mom with 2 young kids, and I gave her mad respect for managing to not only take great care of her kids, but hold down 2 jobs as well. Her family usually made my day when they came in; her kids were so polite and sweet, too!
She had a very adorably shy 4 year old boy and a very cute 6 year old girl. They finished their order and then Mr45DABM was next. He placed his usual order then began to closely study how I was cutting the bread. His face slowly morphed into a very angry looking ogre and going red. Oh boy, here we go, I thought.
He started his usual tirade of cursing before the mom (we'll call her Shelly) physically stepped between him and the counter.
"EXCUSE ME." This surprised Mr45DABM into stopping his tirade mid-curse.
Shelly put on what I like to call Mom Voice. "Are you, a grown man, seriously behaving like this over how they cut your bread? Really?" Her hands went to her hips. "Not to mention, I do not like having my children hear those words you're using."
The rather befuddled Mr45DABM gave her a puzzled look.
Shelly continued in Mom Voice. "I'll complain to management and have you kicked out of here permanently if any of the employees tell me you've treated them like that ever again. Try me. Well, I'll be complaining anyway, but you get the idea." She shifted ever so slightly, her back still to me while she started tapping her foot. "Whatever happened to treating others as you'd like to be treated?"
"I...I.." Shelly had actually managed to stun Mr45DABM into utter silence. Slightly wide-eyed, he quietly finished ordering his sandwich and left.
"What's your owner's phone number?" Shelly asked immediately after Mr45DABM left. I provided it, then said "THANK YOU. You have no idea how long we've been dealing with him, but management is never here to see the tirades and even after seeing and hearing it on video they still wouldn't ban him for more than a couple days."
"Well that's ridiculous. Hopefully another customer complaining will do something."
I may or may not have gotten my manager's permission to only charge her $4 for a $7.50 footlong and given her free drink and cookies.
And yes, after Shelly's complaint he got permabanned from all 5 Way of the Subs our owner owned, and the owner sent messages to the others in the area about the guy.
Would that all businesses have their own Shelly...it was almost too good to be true when we heard he was never setting foot in our store again and that we had permission to call the cops for trespassing if he stayed on the premises after we told him to leave and that we would not serve him.
Cut his bread at exactly a 45 degree angle. To the point that he would bring a frigging protractor with him to measure the angle. Now, as any current or former Sandwich Artists knows the bread is...actually regularly cut pretty close to a 45 degree angle (unless the customer requests a U-cut,) but oh man. If your cut was so much as a single degree off...Mount 45 Degree Angle would erupt. And make you re-cut the bread as obscenities that would make the saltiest of pirates blush were flung at you while their volume was cranked to 11.
We had many theories about Mr. 45 Degree Angle Bread Man (hereafter referred to as Mr45DABM), including perhaps suffering from a severe combination of Tourette's and OCD. But if you cut his bread right, he was as pleasant as could be, and didn't care how sloppy the toppings on his sandwich got as long as his bread was his version of perfectly cut. Naturally, we never let new employees serve him, ever, and we veterans kept an eye out for him and would jump in to avoid the barrage of obscenities. He left several employees in tears and caused our store to have insanely high crew turnover.
To give you an idea, I was in the back preparing some veggies on our slicer one morning to prepare for our lunch rush when I heard a familiar, terrible voice I knew all too well come drifting into the back room. NOOO! An employee that's only been with us for a week was up front! We hadn't warned him yet! Mr45DABM almost never came in in the mornings, either! I was frantically putting our produce back in the fridge to get up front to rescue the new guy when it happened- the storm hitting full force.
"THAT IS NOT A 45 DEGREE ANGLE!!! DO I NEED TO GET OUT MY GODDAMN PROTRACTOR?!?one!!eleventy!!one"
"W-well sir, I-" When he saw me half-running out of the back room, my coworker was screaming 'Help!' as loud as he could through eyes that were as wide as a deer in a headlight's.
"F*CKING CUT IT AGAIN! NOW!" The word 'please' didn't exist in Mr45DABM's vocabulary when he was upset. He then recognized me and smiled, then scowled before pointing a finger in my coworker's direction. "Show him how to cut my bread! I know you know how, you do it right." Again, no 'please' anywhere to be seen from Mr45DABM.
I asked if he wanted his usual (toasted footlong tuna on wheat, extra mayo and pickles, light onion- it's burned into my memory) and there was a grunt and nod. I then pulled out a footlong and showed my coworker how to cut the bread (raise the knife angle slightly above the norm and go slow to ensure an even cut.) We got him out of the store as soon as we could, and once he was gone my coworker turned to me and shook his head, a dumbfounded expression on his face. The store was empty at this point.
"What in the actual heck was that all about?"
I explained the proclivities of Mr45DABM and regailed him with my personal theory, which is just that he liked making people jump and felt good about exercising 'power' over people that couldn't really fight back without risking their job. He then spoke the words every one of us in the store felt:
"Excuse my language, but what an a$%hole."
Now, for the Morning the My Favorite Customer Tore Mr45DABM Several New Arseholes.
One day, I was working a lunch shift (10 to 2) with a different coworker and one of my favorite customers came in. She was a super sweet single mom with 2 young kids, and I gave her mad respect for managing to not only take great care of her kids, but hold down 2 jobs as well. Her family usually made my day when they came in; her kids were so polite and sweet, too!
She had a very adorably shy 4 year old boy and a very cute 6 year old girl. They finished their order and then Mr45DABM was next. He placed his usual order then began to closely study how I was cutting the bread. His face slowly morphed into a very angry looking ogre and going red. Oh boy, here we go, I thought.He started his usual tirade of cursing before the mom (we'll call her Shelly) physically stepped between him and the counter.
"EXCUSE ME." This surprised Mr45DABM into stopping his tirade mid-curse.
Shelly put on what I like to call Mom Voice. "Are you, a grown man, seriously behaving like this over how they cut your bread? Really?" Her hands went to her hips. "Not to mention, I do not like having my children hear those words you're using."
The rather befuddled Mr45DABM gave her a puzzled look.
Shelly continued in Mom Voice. "I'll complain to management and have you kicked out of here permanently if any of the employees tell me you've treated them like that ever again. Try me. Well, I'll be complaining anyway, but you get the idea." She shifted ever so slightly, her back still to me while she started tapping her foot. "Whatever happened to treating others as you'd like to be treated?"
"I...I.." Shelly had actually managed to stun Mr45DABM into utter silence. Slightly wide-eyed, he quietly finished ordering his sandwich and left.
"What's your owner's phone number?" Shelly asked immediately after Mr45DABM left. I provided it, then said "THANK YOU. You have no idea how long we've been dealing with him, but management is never here to see the tirades and even after seeing and hearing it on video they still wouldn't ban him for more than a couple days."
"Well that's ridiculous. Hopefully another customer complaining will do something."
I may or may not have gotten my manager's permission to only charge her $4 for a $7.50 footlong and given her free drink and cookies.
And yes, after Shelly's complaint he got permabanned from all 5 Way of the Subs our owner owned, and the owner sent messages to the others in the area about the guy.
Would that all businesses have their own Shelly...it was almost too good to be true when we heard he was never setting foot in our store again and that we had permission to call the cops for trespassing if he stayed on the premises after we told him to leave and that we would not serve him.
over yourself and take your sandwich and go."
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