I work at a donut shop that America Runs On.
A woman came in this morning and told me that she had an order of 75 Munchkins (donut holes). We usually either have 25 or 50 to a box, so I looked to the counter where we keep the orders and saw three boxes of Munchkins.
Perfect, right? 25 to a box, that must be this woman's order. So I bag them up and ring her up for the 75, she thanks me and leaves.
A couple of hours later, my shift lead asks me where the munchkins are. "Oh, they were picked up," I responded confidently.
"Really?" She asked. "Dave?" (Name changed)
... Uh oh. Unless that woman was named a very masculine name, I may have made a mistake.
"Uh, no," I said. "It was a woman."
"Oh, so it was 'Sarah'," My Shift Lead responded, pointing to a note in the book. I felt relieved- there was the woman's name, with a 75 munchkin order.
Then I realized Dave's name was right next to Sarah's.
He had a 150 Munchkin Order. That I gave to Sarah for the price of 75.
To put it simply, this means not only did I give that woman 75 free donut holes, but now WE were short 75 for the other order! And Munchkins ALWAYS sell out fast, especially on weekends. In other words, we were hosed. And of course, no time to make more.
He came in later (He even announced when he came in "Hi, I'm Dave, and I was supposed to come in at noon, but hey! I'm early!"). I believe they gave him a certificate to bring to another one of our donut shops to get munchkins from them.
Ugh, I feel -awful-. It turns out Sarah's order was placed high up on top of a shelf, and I didn't think to look up. The money's not a big deal - 75 munchkins only comes out to 16 dollars or so- but the fact that I really messed up that guy's morning.
My manager is really nice, so I don't think I'm going to have my head lopped off, but the guilt is far worse
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