Random Customer at a bar #1: “Why do you always have to be so self defecating?”
Random Customer at a bar #2: “I see that you read a lot. I read a lot, too. I just finished Brave New World by Adolphus Huxley.”
Random Customer at a bar #3: “Yeah, it’s crazy, they can go to the bottom of the Marinara Trench.”
Related:
There Once Was A Man From Nantucket
Customer: “Hi, I’d like a Playboy for my son.”
Me: “…excuse me?”
Customer: “You know, a Playboy to play with.”
Me: *trying very hard not to laugh* “You mean a Gameboy?”
Customer: “Yeah that!”
Customer: *realizes what she said* “OH!”
(As a result of the US/Canadian currency parity, a lot of customers have been angry that they have to pay the Canadian price instead of the cheaper US price.)
Customer: “Which price do I have to pay: the American or Canadian?”
Co-worker: “I’m afraid you have to pay the Canadian price.”
Customer: *angrily* “Why?”
Co-worker: “Quite simply, we buy from Canadian publishers with Canadian money. Also, that book was bought before the price parity, therefore, to sell at the American price would mean that we would not be making any money.”
Customer: “Well, I want you to explain to my 7 year old daughter why she’s not getting this book for Christmas.”
Me: “…because your dad is a cheapskate.”
Guest: “I’d like to return this toaster.”
Me: “Okay ma’am, do you have a receipt for the purchase dated within 90 days?”
Guest: “No.”
Me: “Okay, well you can’t return it then. However, if you have an ID you can exchange it for an item of equal or lesser value from the same department.”
Guest: “But I don’t want to exchange it. I want my money.”
Me: “Well, I’m sorry but if you don’t have a receipt, you can’t return the item.”
Guest: “[Other store name] would take it back!”
Another guest in line: “Excuse me, I work there and, no we wouldn’t!”
Customer: “I need 6 frozen pizzas as big as tires!”
Me: “I don’t think we sell pizza that big, sir…”
Customer: “Oh come on! I’ve got two flats and only one spare and I don’t wanna call a tow-truck!”
Me: “Sir, I’m afraid that won’t work…”
Customer: “Fine! Be ridiculous! I’m going somewhere else! If Tom Slick could do it, why can’t I?”
Manager: “Holy crap! Sometimes I swear these idiots do these things on purpose!”
(A girl in her late teens approaches me holding a t-shirt, turning it over in her hands, apparently searching for defects or blemishes in the material.)
Customer: “Do you have any of these that are new?”
Me: “I’m sorry? They’re all new.”
Customer: “No, this one is used. I want a new one.”
(I take the shirt and inspect it, finding it to be in perfect order.)
Me: “It looks perfectly fine to me. I unpacked these from today’s shipment an hour ago. We have multiples of each size if you’d like me to help you find another one.”
Customer: “I checked them all. They’re all used, see…”
(She snatches the shirt and points at the tag which reads, under the bar code, “USD $14.99″.)
Me: “That’s the currency. United States Dollars.”
Customer, becoming irate: “I can f**king see that. Fifteen dollars for a used shirt is f**king retarded.”
Me: “No. U-S-D. United States Dollars. We don’t sell used clothing.”
Customer: “What are you, a f**king idiot? It says you do, right on the d**n tag.”
Me: “My mistake. Here, I’ll take that and make sure it gets thrown away.”
(I take the shirt and begin walking to the stock room.)
Customer: “Can I just have it? You’re going to throw it out anyway.”
Me: “Sorry, no. There’s an IQ requirement.”
Customer: “A what?”
Me: “It’s an acronym thing. Don’t worry about it.”
Customer: “You’re a f**king a**hole!”
(She storms out.)
Woman: “I’ve been standing out there trying to pump gas for the last 10 minutes! Your @&$%*# gas pump is broken!”
Me: “I’m sorry. I’ll go out with you and see what I can do.”
(I see a bright red “Out of Order” bag on the nozzle; she had shoved everything into her tank, bag and all.)
Me: “Yes, that pump is broken. You’ll need to pull up to another pump.”
Woman: “Oh, well you guys should really mark it better. I wasted a lot of time here!”
Me: “Um…yes, we usually put a traffic cone in front.”
Woman: “Oh yeah…I saw it, but I didn’t know what it was for, so I just drove over it.”
(The cone was wedged under her car.)
(I worked tech support for a major software company, specifically with their digital media products. This call was about their video editing software.)
Me: “Thanks for calling ***** tech support.
(The customer gives me her info and has a thick accent I can’t place.)
Me: “Great! What can I do for you?”
Her: “Yes. I am trying to edit dees beedio, and eet’s blue and blue on de ting.”
Me: “So…it’s blue, and blue…on the thing?”
Her: “Yes.”
Me: “Where is it blue?”
Her: “On de ting.”
Me: “By ‘thing,’ do you mean the Computer screen or your camera?”
Her: “Yes…de ting.”
Me: “Ma’am, I can’t see what you are looking at so you’ll have to tell me the name of the thing that is blue.”
Her: *getting angry* “DE TING!!! Eeet’s BLUUUUE AN BLUUUEE ON DE TING!!!!”
Me: “What exactly is blue? The video on your monitor? Are you outputting to TV? The viewfinder on your camera?”
Her: “Yes.”
Me: “Yes…which one?”
Her: *yelling* “DE TING!!!!”
Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry but I don’t understand where you are having a problem.”
Her: “THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS!!! I SPEAK PERFECT ENGLISH!!! MY HUSBAND TAUGHT ME HE WILL BE VERY VERY ANGRY WIT YOU!!! I DEMAND RESPECT!!! HOW DARE YOU!!!”
Me: “Ma’am, I agree. You speak english very very well. The problem I am having is you are not telling me where you are seeing blue video.”
Her: “ON DE TIIIING!!!”
(This exchange went on for a while before she got frustrated and hung up. The best part is, my call was being listened to by some higher level support guys. They created an internal troubleshooting document that appeared as follows:)
SOLUTION: NONE AT THIS TIME
TROUBLESHOOTING:
>(TECH SUPPORT)IS THE THING BLUE? TRY REINSTALLING THE THING
>(TECH SUPPORT) THING REINSTALLED. STILL BLUE
>(ENGINEER) CANNOT RECREATE THING IN LAB.
>(ENGINEER) PROBLEM ALMOST RECREATED. THING RED.
(And so on and so on…)
 De Ting (retro) Tee |
 De Ting (techno) Tee |
(A teen girl walks through security and collects her belongings.)
Teen: “Excuse me sir, what did you do with my purse?”
Worker: “I’m sure it came through ma’am, just look around for it.”
Teen, in a condescending tone: “Sir, I would appreciate it if you would find my purse that went through YOUR machine that YOU lost. Thats your job you know, now reach up in the machine and feel around for it.”
Worker #2: “Umm, your purse is on your arm.”
Teen: “Oh…” *walks away*
(Almost thirty kids are lined up at the velcro wall waiting to ride. We have about five minutes until out troupe leaves.)
Some Mother: “I want my son to ride this ride.”
Me: “Ma’am I don’t think there’s enough time for all these kids to–”
Some Mother: “I don’t care if he’s the last one. I want him to ride this ride.”
Me: “This ride is going to shut down in about five minutes. There isn’t enough time for–”
Some Mother: “He can be the last in line then.”
Me: “He can wait in line but probably won’t be able to–”
Some Mother: “Fine.”
(Mother walks away and returns some time after the ride is shut down and all kids are turned away.)
Some Mother: “Hey! HEY! I thought we agreed that my child would get on the ride.”
Me: “That’s not what we agreed to.”
Some Mother: “Well, put the ride back up so he can ride it.”
Me: “I’m sorry but we can’t do all that for one child.”
Some Mother: “Why not?! Your just being f**king stubborn.”
Me: “If you have any complaints you can speak to the clown over there. Have a nice day.”
Some Mother: “I don’t want to talk to any d**n clown.”
Me: “That clown is my boss.”
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