Funny. There was an Indian restaurant in Jakarta (probably still is) that made great margaritas. We ate there so often that the waiters all knew us well – as soon as they saw us, they’d bring us 1 diet coke and 1 margarita, without waiting for us to order.
I miss that place.
No, wait, Larry! You told that before, but you told it better! IIRC, he said, “I know you have a blender because you had to puree the dahl.” And he somehow justified the ice and the strawberries too, and then you pointed out the absence of tequila, to which he replied, “Can’t someone go to the liquor store and get some?”
That’s unfortunate. But are you sure he held it against you?
Yeah, I was just thinking “why does a restaurant serving Indian food automatically preclude it from serving margaritas?”
But if he really asked them to go get some strawberries… (and anyway, you don’t need strawberries for a real margarita)
Come on, get with the times. This is called “leveraging diversity” and you must embrace it. 
A Spanish client once rang me and said:
‘The computer says Hard disk failure can you go in on the modem and fix it’
Probably my worst was when an acquaintance asked to borrow my car for a couple of hours because he had a court date to get to. I loaned it to him, but spent the whole time he was gone mentally writhing in agony over what would happen if he got into an accident or didn’t bring it back. He did bring it back, but late, of course!
A lady here in our office was pestering another lady to call a hair salon and make her an appointment. Her reason for not calling on her own behalf? “I’m afraid of talking to people on the phone!” This might have sounded more plausible if she wasn’t our freakin’ customer service representative.
As the IT Director at a university, I was in charge of ordering laptops for students (each student got a laptop as part of his tuition). We got a good price since we ordered in bulk. One nut case said that she needed a black laptop instead of the standard one, because she couldn’t look at silver. After asking if she was a werewolf, I told her that she was free to go and purchase her own if she didn’t like what we had.
When in college I was working part time at a sporting goods store. A woman came in and asked me about the differences between several of the stepper exercise machines. Just as I was getting started, she said, “I’m going to go over into the clothing section, could you just write down the specs on all of these?” I went and dug out the manuals for all of them from the storage closet and handed them to her. She wasn’t too pleased.
We had a short-lived employee who claimed she had “environmental toxicity disease” and everything made her dizzy, gave her a headache, a stomachache, etc. She used it as an excuse to get everyone else to do her work.
I had worked from 8 to 3 straight on a major problem one day, and went out and bought a cup of coffee and two candy bars. While I was eating them, Ms. ETD started in: “Oh, the chocolate is making me so dizzy. Oh, I’m going to throw up. You have to go outside.” Outside was forty degrees and pouring rain. I told her to go outside.
The chocolate you were eating made her dizzy? Was it supposed to be psychosomatic, like she imagined herself eating it? Was it the fragrance? And yes, the person who’s going to throw up should be the one to leave. Was she just going to heave in her wastebasket?
Some guy asked me to marry him. That was pretty unreasonable. He did have the good grace to look upset when I turned him down though.
I also have a line manager who often walks up two or three flights of stairs to my office so that she can ask me to make one photocopy of one single sheet of paper…after she’s had to walk past the photocopier to get to my desk!
She claimed she couldn’t be in the same room as milk. No kidding. I once walked in with a styrofoam cup, and she started getting dizzy from the milk I must have had in the coffee. I told her I was drinking tea with Sweet n Low. “Oh, that sweetner has milk in it. I’m getting so sick.”
She was a trip, I tell you.
Actually, Starbucks was her day job. Apparently she wasn’t that good a stripper. Or something.
It was a weird job overall. Good, but weird. For starters, there was a giant paper mache preying mantis head (and by giant, I mean it was at least three feet at the base) mounted on the wall in our reception area. There was also a costume stored in my server room that would allow an adult human being to resemble a single sperm. Really. A sperm suit.
We’re not even going to discuss the fact that my server room was located in a butcher-style walk-in fridge. Apparently my office used to be a blood bank, and when the marketing company took over, they just left all the former hardware intact and adapted it. It was nice and cool in the server room, though.
The VP’s office (the one who had my back against the stupidity of our Bids Manager) had 42 pink inflatable Easter Bunnies suspended from the ceiling - doing a macabre sort of dance with the central air.
Oh, here’s one: back in the day I managed the better bags department at Alexander’s in NYC. One day this family comes up to me with this snake bag they want to purchase. It’s from a pile of very simple, poor quality snake bags on a clearance table. It was marked down to about $13. In the locked case was a different snake bag priced at about $300. They wanted me to take a tag saying “Genuine snake skin” off the $300 bag and put it on their $13 bag. Being 22 at the time I not only refused but gave them a huge lecture on materialism. Now I might just go ahead and do it.
I worked for a company that had me become a notary because they were sick of having to run to the bank all the time to get stuff notarized. When I left the company to go back to school, they asked me to leave behind my notary seal so that they could continue notarizing things (forging my signature). Uh… NO? I appreciate that they paid for the seal, but that’s, you know, ILLEGAL.
Ftttt. You remember it better than I do. Now I know what membership pays for – prosthetic long-term memory. 
And no, I’m reasonably sure the waiter never held it against me - they were always super nice there - even in the face of extreme entitlement.
It never hurts to ask , but my god! When we were new in the neighborhood, we had a bunch of our stuff still in the garage. Mr. Friendly came over and spied my soloflex. Told my SO that his son who is in football needs a workout bench and can they have the soloflex. My SO, ever the congenial putz looking to get rid of stuff that clutters his garage says you have to talk to the wife about it Then after a couple weeks Mr Friendly brings his wife over, up until then she is not so friendly, sort of a bitchy jealous, covetous type. Then over drinks Mrs Friendly gives the butterup talk and like a polished marketing scammer they think they close the deal and figure the soloflex is going home with them. Uh uh, I say NO. Not for sale not for free, it aint going home with thee.
The same gal, after I started producing a monthly newsletter for a lake board, calls up and says that she needs to pad her resume and she thought doing the newsletter would be good experience for her. So If I could just come over with my stuff and help get her started she would take it over. I asked her to send me an article on being a good neighbor and I’d see if I had room for it the next month.
The Friendlies are now on the Xango kick and I cannot wait until we meet again. :eek:
That reminds me of when I was a video store clerk. Invariably on a Saturday night, when we were very busy, I’d get a call from someone wanting to know what recent movies we had in. I’d start to rattle off names, and the person would interrupt me after each title to announce it to his friends in the room, who would either ask what it was about, or debate the merits of renting it. Then the person would ask what else we had in. This would potentially go on for about 40 movies. In actuality I never let it.
Boo-yeah! Nice response!
How did she react?
Do you have pictures?
Not a day goes by that my sweetie doesn’t ask me for something new that she sees advertised on TV or in print—nothing of substance, just frivolous things that she’ll enjoy for a day or two then toss aside for something newer and more exiting. She’s very needy and co-dependant too, expecting me to spend an inordinate amount of time tending to her precious needs (my needs?…not important). She even expects me buy her fancy clothes and food (God forbid I should expect her to make me a meal once in a while). Oh, and quite the finicky lass she is too. If we’re at a restaurant and she doesn’t like what I order for her, I can expect a response like, “I don’t like this, please get me something else!” Some may consider me a pushover, but I normally do as she asks, and I get very little in return. I swear, I’d consider telling her to hit the road, but when she looks into my eyes, and tells me she loves me, I melt. We’ll be together for a very long time.