(I’m checking out a sleazy looking customer. He’s buying a gallon of milk. To not waste bags, we’re supposed to ask if people want their milk in a bag or if they’ll just carry it as is.)

Me: “You want your milk in a bag?”

Sleazy Customer: “Heh, heh. No, but I’ll take the milk in your bags. You got a boyfriend, sweetheart?”

Me: “Oh yeah. He works here. One minute…” *over the intercom* “Greg to the front please, Greg.”

(Greg isn’t my boyfriend, but Greg is one of our stock persons. Greg is about 6 feet tall and has been training for the Marines, so he’s completely ripped.)

Sleazy Customer: *staring at my chest* “I bet he’s a real pansy. I could be a big man for you, sweetheart.”

(I quietly take the customer’s money and give him back his change. Greg shows up to the front.)

Greg: *to me* “What do you need?”

Me: “Hey baby, this guy wanted to meet my boyfriend. He keeps talking about my…milk bags?”

(The customer stares bug-eyed at Greg. Greg, for his part, doesn’t even miss a beat. He just leans toward the customer.)

Greg: “Sir, the last man who sexually harassed my girl? I ripped him apart with my bare hands.”

Sleazy Customer: *turns and runs out of the store*

Me: *to the sleazy customer* “YOU FORGOT YOUR JUG OF MILK!”

(There is an older customer who comes into our store often during overnights. She always announces herself as the “short blond lady.” She is actually very nice, but she spends at the least an hour at the store minimum, taking up a lot of the staff’s time.)

Customer: “Where can I find erotic insoles? You know, the expensive ones that match your feet perfectly?”

Me: “Um… you can find them over by aisle 17. We have a special machine for that.”

Customer: “Thank you. I’ve always wanted to try erotics. They’re supposed to help for my back and legs especially walking around so often!”

Me: “Yes, I heard they were very good. Pricey, but good.”

(15 minutes later she comes back up with the insoles.)

Customer: “Okay, so I found the erotic insoles… wait a minute, what are these called again?”

Me: “They’re called orthotic insoles.”

Customer: *laughs* “Oh! How embarrassing of me!”

(One of our stylists has just been fired, so one of her clients books with me for the first time. She is approximately 65 years old and uses a walker.)

Me: “Hi! I’m [name], I’ll be taking care of you for your color today!”

Client: “Hi, sweetie. Sorry, I’m a little slow. I just had a hip replacement.”

(She stops dead in the middle of the busy salon, and without warning pulls down her pants. Apparently, she chose to go commando that day.)

Client: “Look at this scar they gave me! It’s only a few months old.”

Me: “Oh, that looks…uh…terrible. Why don’t you just have a seat and I’ll show you some color options…”

(I am working as a cashier in the sandwich shop I work in. Two male customers of at least 65 years old are ordering food.)

Me: “So, the debit is ready. Your chip goes in the bottom whenever you’re ready.”

(The customer that is paying tries to complete his debit transaction. However, it returns on my end saying the card was removed before it was completed.)

Elderly Male Customer #1: “What happened? I did everything right!”

Elderly Male Customer #2: “I think you pulled your card out before the machine was done.”

Elderly Male Customer #1: “Pulling out too soon! Story of my life!”

Related:
Of Quick Comebacks And Minute Men

(I’m at work on a Saturday with a clerk and a pharmacist. I notice the clerk speaking with an elderly woman out front but don’t think much of it. A few minutes later, the clerk comes back with a strange expression on her face and tells me I have to go help the woman.)

Me: “What can I help you with?”

Customer: “I’m looking for a vibrator.”

Me: “A…vibrator?”

Customer: “Yes. I had one, but I used it too much and it wore out.”

Me: “I don’t think we have anything like that. Where did you buy the first one?”

Customer: “At another pharmacy, but I want one with a long handle so it can reach better.”

(At this point I’m biting the inside of my cheek in an effort not to laugh.)

Me: “What kind of vibrator are you looking for, exactly?”

Customer: “You know! One of those that rub your feet!”

Me: “OH! Sorry, we don’t have anything like that.”