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    Category: Family & Kids

    The Age Of Petulance

    | Livingston, NJ, USA | Extra Stupid, Family & Kids

    Customer: “Hi, my son needs a book called Ethan for his summer reading.”

    Me: “Sure! Do you mean Ethan Frome?”

    Customer: “No, it’s just Ethan.”

    Me: “Is it by Edith Wharton?”

    Customer: *looks at a piece of paper* “Um… yeah, it is, but my son just wrote down Ethan.”

    Me: “Okay. Well, he probably just didn’t write down the full title, so let’s go grab Ethan Frome.”

    Customer: “No! You aren’t listening to me! It’s not Ethan Frome, it’s just Ethan!”

    Me: “It’s really not a big deal. We’ll—”

    Customer: “It IS a big deal! You’re calling my son a liar!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to—”

    Customer: “My son is a very good student. Maybe you should have paid more attention when you were in school, or you’d know that Edith Whoever wrote a book called Ethan!”

    Me: “My apologies. Let me grab that book for you.”

    (I go grab a copy of “Ethan Frome” and hand it to the customer.)

    Customer: “No! What are you, an idiot? You’re trying to trick me by giving me Ethan Frome when I just need Ethan!”

    Me: “Ma’am, Edith Wharton never wrote a book called Ethan. She did write a book called Ethan Frome.”

    Customer: “MY SON IS NOT A LIAR!”

    (I spend the next five minutes showing the customer all of the books Edith Wharton wrote in her lifetime on the computer. “Ethan Frome” appears on every list, but there is no reference to a book called just “Ethan”.)

    Customer: “My son said it’s called Ethan, and that’s what I need! Obviously, you people just haven’t heard of it and you’re trying to make me look like an idiot. I’ll show you! I’ll call the school and get them to read me the summer reading list!”

    (She calls the school on her cell phone. The school receptionist informs her that the title in question is, in fact, “Ethan Frome.” The customer turns bright red, and eventually hangs up on the poor receptionist.)

    Customer: “None of you know what you’re talking about!” *snatches up a copy of “Ethan Frome” stalks off*

    Me: “Have a nice day!”

    Manager: “You need to take a ten minute break?”

    Me: “You have no idea.”

    Ah, Parents, Part 2

    | Everett, MA, USA | Family & Kids

    (I’m working as a seasonal cashier at a big name retail chain. A mother and her whining 4-year-old come up to my register. The child is upset because the mother won’t buy him a specific toy.)

    Mother: “I told you, Santa will bring it to you on Christmas.”

    Kid: “But I want it now!”

    Mother: “Keep whining, and you won’t get it at all.”

    Kid: “Nuh-uh! Santa knows I’ve been a good boy!”

    (The kid’s whining begins to irritate me, so some I do some quick thinking.)

    Me: *to the kid* “Are you sure? You see that up there?”

    (I point to one of our store’s eye-in-the-sky security cameras.)

    Kid: “What about it?”

    Me: “Well, that’s how Santa sees all the little boys and girls in the world. That’s how he knows if you’ve been naughty or nice.”

    (The kid stops crying and doesn’t say a word for the rest of the transaction.)

    Mother: *leans in, whispering* “Thank you so much!” *slips me a $20 and leaves*

    Related:
    Ah, Parents…
    Ah, Children

    Necessity Is The Mother Of Intervention

    , | Missouri, USA | Family & Kids, Food & Drink

    (A mother with several children and their grandmother come up to my register. They bicker for a while before the mother takes her kids to the playroom, and the grandmother begins to order all their food. Halfway through the large order, the mother runs up to us screaming.)

    Mother: “What are you doing! Stop! STOP!”

    Grandmother: “What? I’m just ordering our food.”

    Mother: “No! You don’t know what we are getting!”

    Grandmother: “We get the same food every time. I remember what we get.”

    Mother: “Shut up, Mom! God, you just can not quit!”

    Grandmother: “I can remember—”

    Mother: “SHUT UP MOM! SHUT UP!” *turns to me* “Start over.”

    (I void off all the items and start from scratch. The grandmother stands there quietly through the whole ordeal and pays at the end.)

    Me: “Okay, here are your drink cups. It will be just a few minutes on your food.”

    (The mother walks away, leaving the grandmother at the counter with me.)

    Grandmother: “Sorry about all the yelling. My daughter can be very rude sometimes.”

    (They collect their food and leave. Not five minutes later, the mother runs up to my register and starts screaming at me. The grandmother walks up too, and stands behind her daughter quietly.)

    Mother: “You got my order completely wrong! I demand a refund! You could have killed my poor babies!”

    (My manager immediately steps in.)

    Manager: “What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

    Mother: “This girl sabotaged my food! Now my children can’t eat!”

    Manager: “From the looks of your receipt, you ordered a lot of food.”

    Me: “I read it back to double check it. What did I mess up?”

    (The mother and the manager continue to bicker about the order for several minutes before she gets pissed and walks off. The grandmother stays behind to talk to us.)

    Grandmother: “She does this every time. She can never remember which of her kids is allergic to what. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, too.”

    Grandmother: “Oh, don’t worry about me! The only reason I put up with her attitude is so I can make sure she doesn’t kill my grandchildren. Try to have a good day, dear!”

    Always Handle Grown Ups With Kid Gloves

    | Colorado, USA | Bizarre, Family & Kids

    (I am a head counselor at a camp. It is the end of the session and checkout doesn’t start until 5pm. The following takes place around 3pm. My boss radios up that a parent has shown up unexpectedly. I scramble to gather the kids, their belongings and final paperwork before heading to the parents.)

    Parent #1: *fuming* “Well, it’s about time! We were supposed to leave by 2:30!”

    Me: “Okay, I’m sorry this is taking a while. We’re just trying to get the last pieces of paperwork together. In the future, if you need to check out early, you can note it on the checkout form you filled out at the beginning of camp and—”

    Parent #1: “Well, we called and confirmed we could be here early!”

    Me: “Oh? Who did you confirm with? I’m sorry for the mix-up. They should have passed that info along and we could have—”

    Parent #1: “Well, we left a message.”

    Me: “Who did you confirm with that we got your message? Did you make verbal contact with anyone?”

    Parent #1: “WE. LEFT. A. MESSAGE.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t always get a chance to check our messages. Next time, it would be better if you tried again until you made verbal contact with—”

    Parent #1: *clamps her hands over her ears* “NO! NO! NO! I DON’T WANT TO FIGHT! NO FIGHTING! NO FIGHTING! [Camp Name] RULE: NO FIGHTING!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m not trying to fight with you. I’m just letting you know how we can make early check out easier—”

    Parent #1: “NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO FIGHTING!” *walks away from me*

    (I turn to the other parent and begin explaining things to him.)

    Me: “For future reference, if you fill out the early check out form we can have all the paperwork ready and your camper’s belongings set aside instead of buried in the trailer—”

    (At this point, the other parent turns away from me, walks over to the trailer, opens it up and starts throwing other campers’ bags out into the dirt.)

    Me: “Sir, you can’t be in there! I will help you find your camper’s belongings as soon as we finish the checkout paperwork!”

    Parent #1: “THIS IS SO STUPID!”

    Parent #2: “This is utter B***S***!”

    Parent #1: “WHY IS THIS TAKING SO LONG?!”

    Me: “If you would let me explain I would be happy to help you—”

    Parent #1: “NO FIGHTING! NO FIGHTING! NO FIGHTING!”

    (Fortunately, my boss comes over. He tells them the same thing I’ve been telling them. Surprisingly, their response is the complete opposite.)

    Parent #1: *to my boss* “OH! Well why didn’t you just say so?” *signs the paperwork* “Have a good day!”

    Just Plain Batty

    | Colorado Springs, CO, USA | Bizarre, Family & Kids, Religion

    (My friend used to own a comic book in the local mall. I am a tall goth girl and am leaning against a book case reading a Japanese graphic novel.)

    Customer’s Young Son: *tries to reach for a comic on the top shelf*

    Me: “Here you go!” *hands him the comic* “Batman is my favorite super hero.”

    (The young boy’s father approaches.)

    Customer: “What they H*** do you think you’re doing talking to my son?! You’re trying to possess him with your evil!”

    Me: “I was handing him a book.”

    Customer: “Don’t lie to me! You were trying to convert him to worshipping the devil!”

    Owner: “Is there a problem?”

    Customer: “How dare you let devil worshippers hang around in your store?! She was trying to convert my son with this devil bat comic!”

    Owner: “She handed him the comic. That is all, sir.”

    Customer: “Don’t lie to me! You’re one of them aren’t you? You’re both in a cult together!” *to his son* “Son, we never go near these people again, do you hear me? I’ll tell everyone this store is evil!”

    Me: “Sir, I’m actually an atheist and am offended that you would make such blind accusations based on my appearance.”

    Customer: “Don’t tell me how to raise my son! God hates you!”

    Owner: “Sir, I would like you to get out of my store and never return.”

    Customer: “I can enter here if I want. It’s a free country, and you HAVE to serve me!”

    Owner: *calmly* “You’re right, it is a free country, and as the owner of this shop, I have the freedom to tell you to get the f*** out or I’ll call the police.”

    Customer: *grabs his son and leaves hastily*

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