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    Category: Rude & Risque

    For those who like their humor a bit more PG-13, this section is littered with customers who are not afraid to walk on the more brazen side, or act downright gross-out disgusting. Be warned though that toilet humor sometimes literally takes place in the toilet.

    Trying Your Patients

    | New Zealand | Bizarre, Health & Body, Rude & Risque

    Charge Nurse: “Hello.”

    Caller: “Is Mr [Name] one of your patients?”

    Charge Nurse: “Yes. Why?”

    Caller: “He’s in the gynaecology ward. Please retrieve him.”

    Charge Nurse: “How did he get there? He needs one assist just to walk around his bed!”

    Caller: “Well, either the dementia made him forget he couldn’t walk or he’s just been alone for too long in life.”

    Charge Nurse: “Pardon me? I’m sure he’s just in his bed in his room”

    Caller: “Look, just come and get him. He took the elevator up four floors, found the gynae ward, walked into a room with a cervical smear in progress, and asked if he could be of assistance.”

    Charge Nurse: “…”

    Lack-Of-Clothes Make The Lack-Of-A Man

    | UK | At The Checkout, Money, Rude & Risque

    (An older customer comes to my checkout. He has been staring at me a lot while he has been waiting for service. I am 17 at the time.)

    Customer: “Are you from [area in my town]?”

    Me: “Oh, no. I don’t live there.”

    Customer: “Are you sure? I’ve seen you around there, at [address that is not mine].”

    Me: “Oh, no. You must be mistaken.”

    (The transaction continues, extremely awkward as he keeps insisting he ‘knows me from somewhere’ and has ‘seen my house’ and things to that effect. I brush him off as one of the harmless, odd customers that one sees in a day.)

    Me: “Right, so that comes to £52.56.”

    Customer: “Oh I only have £50 on me.”

    Me: “Well, if you have no other means of paying, we’ll have to take something off.”

    Customer: “Like your clothes?”

    Me: “…no.”

    Customer: “Like my clothes?”

    (I am speechless and upset, and about to go into a rant and call a security guard over, when the next customer intervenes.)

    Next Customer: “You are soooo creepy, mate.”

    (The customer scuttles off after paying me the full amount, obviously embarrassed about being caught harassing a teenage girl!)

    Should Have Called It A Night

    | Scotland, UK | Hotels & Lodging, Rude & Risque, Underaged

    (I’m 14, working in the kitchen of a local pub/inn. I arrive at work one day and go to sign in, behind the reception desk in the front hall. A customer comes in and assumes I’m working on the front desk.)

    Customer: “Hey! How much are rooms?”

    Me: “Depending on which rooms are available, anywhere from £35-65 a night—”

    Customer: “No, how much for an hour?”

    (He winks at me. Being 14, I don’t understand what he’s getting at.)

    Me: “Pardon? The rooms are priced for a night—”

    Customer: “Yeah, but how much for you and a room for an hour?”

    (I am beyond confused at this point when the manager, a stocky guy with a shaved head, tattooed arms and a strong Glaswegian accent appears from the dining room, right behind the guy.)

    Manager: “CAN I HELP YOU!?”

    (The customer jumped about a foot in the air, saw my manager, and bolted out the door. My manager refused to tell me what the guy was talking about (and I didn’t realise for another couple of years), just told me to run and get him or the chef if I saw the guy again.)

    Doesn’t Provide THAT Kind Of Customer Service

    | NS, Canada | At The Checkout, Crazy Requests, Rude & Risque

    (I have just started working at a small-town video store. I’m female, 20 years old, and look much younger. We have an ‘adult’ room in the back. Most customers who buy or rent the porn are middle-aged or elderly men, and are not remotely creepy. Most, in fact, were awkward around me at first because I looked like a teenage kid. They chat about the weather, they get their porn, and get out. One shift when I am working alone, one customer wanders into the store, heads straight to back room, and comes up to my till five minutes later with an armful of adult DVDs.)

    Customer: “Just these, please.”

    Me: “No problem, sir, give me a second to check the discs. That’ll be [total].”

    Customer: “Thanks.” *pays* “Hey, I’m from out of town, just in for two days. Do you have the number to the escort service?”

    Me: “Um, no. We actually don’t have one. This is a pretty small city.”

    Customer: “What!? No escort service? Well, what about a gentlemen’s club? With dancers?”

    Me: “No, sorry, there’s actually no strip clubs, either.” *laughs nervously* “We don’t have much to do here…”

    Customer: *frowns* “Well, do you know anyone who works on the side? Someone a lonely out-of-town visitor can call and spend a few hours with?”

    Me: *wanting to die at this point* “I… are you asking me if I know any prostitutes, sir? I can assure you that I don’t.”

    Customer: “I’m not a cop or anything.”

    Me: “And I’m not exactly a pimp, sir.”

    Customer: “Why did I even come here!? This is the worst business trip I’ve ever been sent on! What do people do for fun around here anyway?!”

    (The customer stormed out. It probably took another hour for the color to come back to my face, and for the feeling of ‘ew,’ to wear off.)

    Transcontinental Breakfast

    | Cumberland County, PA, USA | Food & Drink, Health & Body, Hotels & Lodging, Rude & Risque

    (I work the front desk night shift at our hotel, and one of my duties is to set up breakfast and make sure it is fully stocked until I clock out in the morning. I’m a young transgender woman and I’ve only informed the general manager of that fact. As far as I know neither my coworkers nor any guests can tell. I am restocking the sausage patties when this happens.)

    Guest: “Oh, so you’re the one who cooks up all the breakfast, eh?”

    Me: *smiles* “Yup, that’s me!”

    (I quickly break away from the encounter to wrap up my shift. Soon enough my coworker is just about ready to let me go for the day, when the same guest from before passes by, spots me, and smiles.)

    Guest: “There’s the sausage queen!”

    Me: *speechless*

    Coworker: *chuckles* “Sorry, the 12-year-old in me just had to laugh at that!”

    Me: “They may never know just how funny that truly was.”

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