Category: Extra Stupid

This site is full of Customers; their stupid and moronic exploits that make us laugh. But these gems contained within are for those special cases, the extra stupid, the ones that make you wonder how they have survived this long!

An Argonizing Encounter

| London, England, UK | Crazy Requests, Extra Stupid, Math & Science

Cashier: “Did you find everything you needed?”

Customer: “No. I was hoping you could help me, actually. I’m looking for a shampoo. I can’t remember the name but it has argon in it.”

Cashier: “Argon, madam?”

Customer: “Yes that’s right, argon.”

Cashier: “Oh! You must mean argan oil. I can show you…”

Customer: “No, no! I don’t want oil in my hair! I said ARGON.”

Cashier: “But madam, shampoo doesn’t contain—”

Customer: “Do you even know what argon is?”

Cashier: “Yes, madam. It’s a gas. Sometimes used in lightbulbs. I don’t think it’s used in shampoo, though.”

Customer: “You really don’t know what you’re talking about, do you? Just because it’s a gas doesn’t mean it can’t be mixed. Water has oxygen in it, you know!”

Me: “Excuse me, madam, but I’m in a hurry and if you’re looking for argon compounds you’re going to be here a very long time.”

Customer: “What do you know, exactly?”

Me: “I know that argon is a noble gas so you’re very unlikely to find any compounds of it in this shop.”

Customer: *scoffs* “It’s not that hard to get hold of it! They just use recycled lightbulbs.”

Me: “Noble doesn’t mean rare. The stuff’s over 20 times more common than carbon dioxide. It means it’s almost completely unreactive. To get a compound you could mix into a shampoo, you’d need a very high-tech lab and a lot more money than anyone would pay for shampoo.”

Customer: “Fine! I’ll go somewhere they know what they’re talking about!” *storms out*

Me: “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Cashier: “Um… yeah. Thanks for that”

Refunder Blunder, Part 14

| Hampshire, England, UK | At The Checkout, Extra Stupid

(I work in a clothes shop. Our returns policy is printed on the back of our receipt: 28 days for full price or 7 days if the item is sale. If over that amount of time, the item may be exchanged if it is unworn. A customer comes in with an item to return. I notice a problem.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to either exchange this or put it on a gift card, as you’ve gone over the seven days.”

Customer: *patronisingly* “Sweetie, there is a month for returns.”

Me: “28 days technically, but yes, there is usually an extended time for full price items. However this is sale. There are only 7 days for that.”

Customer: “No one told me!”

Me: “Well, I can’t say either way as this top wasn’t bought from our store, but I can say it is written in the back.” *I show her*

Customer: *scathingly* “Like anyone reads them!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it is written down for you to read.”

(She starts creating a scene, saying how the customer is always right and how useless I am. Usually, when a customer does this they get what they want, so i check her receipt to see if she is in date for the full price return.)

Me: “Erm, excuse me?”

Customer: “What?!”

Me: “This was bought in early December. It’s now February. You’ve had this item for two months now, so even if it was full price, you wouldn’t be able to get a full refund.”

Customer: “Uh… really?”

Me: “Yep, see?” *I show her the receipt* “You bought it the 2nd December and it’s now the 6th February.”

(There is a pause.)

Me: “So… exchange or gift card?”

Related:
Refunder Blunder, Part 13
Refunder Blunder, Part 12
Refunder Blunder, Part 11

You’ll Pay For That Confusion

| USA | Extra Stupid, Money, Technology

(I’m cashiering one night when a lady comes through the line with some small items, and the transaction proceeds smoothly. She already has her wallet out and is looking through her cards when I ring up the last item.)

Me: “All right, your total is [price].”

Customer: *panicked* “Wait, I have to pay?!”

Me: “Um… yes. If you’d like to use a card, you can go ahead and slide it in the pinpad…”

(She paid after that without any problem, and I was left confused for the rest of the night.)

Wi-Fly Away

, | Roermond, The Netherlands | Extra Stupid, Technology

(I work as technical support for an Internet service provider in Belgium. Most of the calls are about wifi not working properly. It is known with us that the wireless range of our modems isn’t exactly great.)

Me: “Good morning, this is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I’m [Customer] and I’m having problems with my wifi connection.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that you have problems with your wifi connection. Do you see your network in the list of network connections on your computer?”

Customer: “Yes, I do see it, but it says I cannot connect because it’s not within range.”

Me: *fearing the worst, that she’s two floors away and the connection is too weak* “Okay… How far are your physically away from the modem?”

Customer: *long pause* “…I think I’m about 150km away.”

Me: “… uh… Miss, you do know the wifi technology is limited to about 10-15m max?”

Customer: “Oh…” *long pause* *click*

A Minefield Of Stupidity

, | Pákozd, Hungary | Extra Stupid, Family & Kids, History

(There is an exhibit on the conscription in the memorial park, and in that unit we also have a part attributed to the demolition experts, with panels about mine clearing, explosives, and projectiles. Since Hungary was a war zone under both World Wars, and the neighbouring countries also have/had local wars, there are plenty of these mines, projectiles, and bombs scattered around, still dangerous; most of the time, they are found in public places, even at schoolyards and nurseries, fields, rivers, etc. Because of this, we are obligated to give a small but thorough speech about the most common dangers. Be advised that generally people receive similar warnings at school, preschool, and even in the media. As it seems, it is not effective:)

Me: *finishing my spiel about what to do* “…so, if you find any of these, you just leave it in peace, and call an adult.”

Mother: *cupping her daughter’s ears, so she cannot hear me* “Don’t worry, honey, this isn’t true anymore…”

Me: *speechless*

Father: “Oh, I think I have one or two of these at home!” *points at one of the smaller bombs* “But they are intact… I mean, they are whole, not distorted like these…”

Me: *hoping he bought a replica* “Oh? Where did you get them?”

Father: “Well, I was ploughing, and they just sort of came out of the ground.”

Me: *alarmed* “And where did you put them?”

Father: “In the garage, I think…”

Seven-Year-Old Son: “Yes, they are there. I usually play with them!”

Me: *agitated* “Please, sir, as soon as you get home, don’t enter the garage and call the police!”

Father: “Why?”

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