(I work at a small counter in my store that sells the company’s own brand condoms. A female customer comes to the condom counter with a complaint. I’m busy with a customer, so my coworker steps in.)

Customer: “I want to return these!”

Coworker: “What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “My husband says they’re too small and they won’t fit him!”

(My coworker is a very unabashed flamboyant man. He proceeds to take a condom out of the packet, open it, unroll it and pull it over his hand and right up to his elbow, all while the customer watches in stony silence.)

Coworker: “If that doesn’t fit your husband, can I have his number?”

Customer: *leaves silently, taking the box with her*

Related:
Size Matters, Part 9
Size Matters, Part 8
Size Matters, Part 7
Size Matters, Part 6
Size Matters, Part 5
Size Matters, Part 4
Size Matters, Part 3
Size Matters, Part 2
Size Matters

Me: “We’re making magic here at Ch—”

Caller: “Sexy voice for a sexy lady, eh?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Caller: “Yeah, I wanted to ask about some of your ‘prizes’.”

Me: “Sure? What are you looking for?”

(He begins to read me a long list of sexual objects and attempts to talk dirty.)

Me: “Sir, this is highly inappropriate.”

Caller: “If you’re offended, why do you work at [name of adult store]?”

Me: “Because I don’t. I think you have the wrong number.”

Caller: “Who am I talking to then?”

Me: “[Name] at Chuck E. Cheese.”

Caller: “Oh…oh my God! I AM SO SORRY!”

Related:
You Got The Wrong(est) Number, Part 5
You Got The Wrong(est) Number, Part 4
You Got The Wrong(est) Number, Part 3
You Got The Wrong(est) Number, Part 2
You Got The Wrong(est) Number

(It’s the end of the day at the grocery deli. Most of the other customers have left. I am just about to start closing up when a last customer walks up. He is wearing oversized glasses and mismatched clothing, as if he hasn’t done his laundry in a while.)

Customer: “Hey, you closing up?”

Me: “I’ve got enough time for ya! What do you need?”

(He orders and I begin preparing it.)

Customer: “So, how is that job?”

Me: “Nothing really to complain about, other than the occasional weird customer—”

Customer: “You know, I’m pretty weird! You want to see how weird I am?”

Me: “No, sir, that’s all right, I was just—”

(The customer proceeds to pull down his pants right in the middle of the store and does a little victory pose. I’m so dumbfounded I almost cut myself on the slicer.)

Customer: *pulling his pants up* “I bet you haven’t met anyone weirder than that yet, have ya?!”

Me: “No, sir, I most definitely have not.”

(I am doing a pat down on an older woman in a wheelchair. As I clear each area, I’m letting the woman know that I am moving to a new area. Fairly quickly, it becomes obvious that the woman is intoxicated.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I’m going to clear your back now.”

Woman: *throws her arms out and says quite loudly* “Honey, I’m loaded! You can do whatever you want to me!”

(A female customer, approximately 18 years old, is asking a coworker of mine about our bikinis.)

Customer: “Do you guys, like, carry any bikini bottoms in white?”

Me: “I don’t think we have any. Not a lot of stores stock white bikinis.” *chuckling* “After all, you can see right through white fabric when it gets wet!”

Customer: *completely serious* “Yeah, duh. That’s why I want them!”