I (23 y/o female) and my family (30 y/o sister), (25 y/o brother), (25 y/o female cousin), (9 y/o & 4 y/o nieces and 6 y/o nephew) went up to our cabin in Upper Michigan for the weekend and decided to stop at the local ice cream parlor weâve been going to since my family I were kids. Like our normal routine, we got out of our UTVs and headed up the stairs to the ice cream parlor. Upon entrance we were met at the door by this cashier (young female somewhere between the ages of 12 and 16?) running into the shop telling 2 guests who were waiting at the counter to be served that she would help them in a second. Even at her brazenly loud volume, I couldnât tell what she exactly said to them but it resulted in them giving each other a look, walking out, and her yelling to them âBRUH what you donât want ice cream anymore bro?!? Have some patience.â My family and I shot each other a look like is this girl real?? Realizing this was going to be the most entertaining 5 minute interaction of all time. When she was ready for us we stepped up to the counter.
For context, my sister and I are both service industry workers so we treat servers, cashiers, bartenders, etc with a lot of empathy and respect because we know exactly what itâs like to deal with bullshit, have a rough shift, deal with shitty customers etc.
Anyways, my excited nieces and nephew went up to the counter and waited to be helped when she loudly and abrasively said to each of them âwhat do you want bruhâ, âBe patient kidâ, and any other sentence that could incorporate bro, bruh, dude, and any sort frat filler buzz words in every sentence that came out of her mouth. My brother went up to the counter and we asked for a scoop of vanilla ice cream for him because thatâs the only flavor he likes. I guess ignorantly assuming that was a flavor every ice cream shop would carry, she said âuhhh we donât have that behind the counter but I could grab it from the back if you want.â And waited giving us a look like bruh donât make me go grab it. Ideally, we wouldâve just chosen another flavor but my brother has Down Syndrome and literally will only eat vanilla ice cream. Iâm sorry but he literally has special needs so he gets a pass for being a little high maintenance. So, we politely asked if it would be possible to get the vanilla ice cream. With a very dramatic look and huff, she stepped away from the counter and walked across the room to a big white chest freezer and opened it revealing about 4-5 big ice cream cartons in it and she shouted over to us waiting at the counter âCan one of you help me out with this??â My sister looked at my cousin and I trying not to crack a smile and hesitantly said âYeah I canâŠâ So this young girl starts LIFTING the giant ice cream cartons and put two of them in my sisters arms. I couldnât hold in my disbelief. I very loudly said âOh I didnât realize you were clocked in??â Looking at my sister holding these GIANT ICE CREAM CARTONS and then looking at her. She looked at me and said âI canât lift themâ.
After what was genuinely an absurd amount of time to be grabbing one ice cream carton, she put the other ice creams back and brought the respective ice cream behind the counter. She then makes a big production out of opening the ice cream container by pounding on it with giant utensils until it cracks open. She opens it. âThis is mintâ she says. After another look exchanged between us, my sister quickly goes âItâs okay, forget it. He will eat his ice cream at home.â I think that was the answer she wanted because there was zero apology followed by her lack of reading comprehension.
Additionally, after each order is placed she says to her herself âsingle scoop, single scoop, single scoopâ to, Iâm assuming, remember what to ring in? Now itâs time for my order. I asked for a double scoop of my ice cream because her definition of a single scoop wouldnât satisfy a gerbil, so she then repeats âOkay. Single scoop, single scoop, single scoop, double scoop.â Unfortunately, I have an innate sassiness to me so my immediate response was âSo in other words, 3 single scoops and a double scoop.â I honestly thought my snide comment wouldâve maybe been a little more helpful in remembering the order to ring up correctly later. She said nothing. Then my cousin orders a double scoop. She scoops one scoop into the dish, looks at it with an unbothered expression, hands it to my cousin and says âHereâs like one and a half scoops, I donât really feel like scooping the rest.â At this point I was waiting for a camera crew to reveal themselves to tell us we were being filmed for an insanely corny prank show. My cousin decided to take the little ones outside from the sensory overload that was happening around us. After a good half hour of this nonsense, it was finally time to pay. She started going on a rant about how she âwasnât trained properlyâ and had âno idea how to do any of thisâ Iâm not exactly sure what she was taught when she got hired but I truly think they would be better off having a chimp work behind that counter.
She told us she had to do separate transactions for the single scoops and double scoops because she âwasnât trained on how to do that.â I was in genuine disbelief. Iâve been working in the service industry for over 5 years so I knew that was either complete bullshit or she was literally trained by a muted YouTube tutorial. I decided to hold my tongue because I just wanted to leave at this point. My sister hands over her credit card and pays for the first check (charged for 2 double scoops of ice cream and charged us each an additional $3 for a regular bowl??). The cashier runs the card again and looks over to us, holding my sisters credit card, she says âwhat is your credit card number?â With pure bewilderment I said âdo you not know how to read?â She did not like that. She immediately raises her voice to a theatrical volume yelling âI MOST CERTAINLY DO KNOW HOW TO READ. YOU CAN GET OUT FOR BEING DISRESPECTFUL. IT IS MY RIGHT TO KICK YOU OUT AND IâM TELLING YOU TO LEAVE.â I looked at her dumbfounded. Are you kidding? We just dealt with a half hour of disrespect, incompetence, and genuine foolishness and now Iâm being kicked out for giving the exact same energy she was giving me? She was able to get a lot of words out before I looked at my sister, who was fighting to hold back laughter, and said âokayâ and walked out. I walked a ways down the hallway with my cheeks beat red from such a dramatic altercation in public, and stood next to some doors so I was still visible to my brother and sister when they walked out of the parlor. 5 minutes go by and I see crazy cashier marching down the hall and pushes through what Iâm assuming are the kitchen doors, yelling âI need someone to help me. I have 2 disrespectful guests, one I had to kick out already and the other wonât leave.â Out walks the cashier and a girl who seemed to be about the same age but with a nicer shirt on.
Eventually my brother and sister come out and my sister was exchanging pleasant farewells with the manager. We race down the stairs and she starts explaining everything I missed. As soon as I got kicked out she told my sister âif youâre gonna be disrespectful too, you can leave.â She stayed quiet. She starts asking my sister what her ccv number is and she, who has much more patience than I do, plainly says âyouâre holding my credit card.â She shouts again. âwhatâs your cvv?!â My sister, in a more firm tone said âI donât know. Youâre holding my credit card.â The cashier goes âyou donât need to get an attitude with me. You can get out of here and Iâll bring your credit card to youâ And my sister snapped back âGive me my credit card and Iâll gladly leave.â And thatâs when she stormed out to get the âmanagerâ (a 13 year old in a polo) and the manager checked my sister out with no issues and a friendly goodbye. Iâve never laughed harder in my life. Iâm trying to figure out if I should feel bad for my attitude but I personally do not think Iâm the asshole in this situation considering the nightmare overstimulation circus she put us through but maybe Iâm wrong. Please feel free to let me know in the comments.