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    All That Glitters Is Not Old

    | Florida, USA | Family & Kids, Top

    (I’m working at a face painting booth at a local park. A gentleman in his 60s comes up with two small girls. They decide to get painted and hop into the chairs.)

    Me: “Sir, the designs they chose both come with optional glitter and lipstick. Is that okay?”

    Gentleman: “Absolutely, go all out! Glitter, lips, the works. Maybe this’ll teach Grandma not to leave the kids alone with Pop-Pop!”

    Murray’s Law

    | Sydney, Australia | At The Checkout, Top

    (I work at a complaints and returns desk. We generally get a few unreasonable and abusive customers each day, so we’ve developed a very effective tactic for dealing with them.)

    Me: “Hello, how can I help you today?”

    Customer: “You guys are idiots!”

    Me: “I’m sorry to hear that. What seems to be the problem?”

    Customer: “Look at this receipt! Look at it!”

    (He holds up a receipt for a purchase; it looks normal enough.)

    Me: “Is there a problem with it?”

    Customer: “God, you’re so dumb! Look how faint the ink is! I can barely read it! You want me to go blind?!”

    Me: “Ah, well, it looks like the printer’s ink was running a little low, and it can look faded because of that. Would you like me to reprint it so you can read it?”

    Customer: “NO! Then you’ll just get away with it! Stupid idiots!”

    (The customer starts getting worked up and begins a rant full of swear words and physical threats. I realise what the situation calls for.)

    Me: “I am terribly, terribly sorry sir. That looks like Murray did it. What an idiot!”

    (This stops the customer’s rant in his tracks and looks at me, breathless.)

    Customer: “…Murray?”

    Me: “Yes, Murray! He’s always causing problems for customers like you. It’s really unfair. I’ll deal with it right now.” *calling out* “Murray? Come here!”

    (As per protocol, the nearest male coworker who isn’t busy comes over to play the role of Murray.)

    Male Coworker: “Yes?”

    Me: “How dare you upset this customer! You’re fired! Get out!”

    Male Coworker: *acts dejected* “I’m so sorry…”

    (“Murray” shuffles off looking like he’s about to cry, and once out of sight gets right back to work.)

    Me: “There we are, sir. You don’t have to worry about that sort of thing happening ever again. The customer always comes first, and we take complaints very seriously. Have a nice day!”

    Customer: “Wow, you guys are really great! Thanks, and good riddance to that idiot Murray!” *leaves*

    (This isn’t simply to avoid confrontation; our manager estimates that using the “Murray” tactic to placate customers like this saves us nearly an hour of verbal abuse each day, so we have more time to actually help the customers who need it.)

    A Case Of Misbehavin’ Identity

    | Edmonton, AB, Canada | Top, Wild & Unruly

    (I am working in a post office inside a mall. I am in a rather secluded part of the store and usually only one or two customers are here at a time. This is my first night alone, and I have just learned this particular transaction about two hours earlier with my manager. The first meeting occurs with my manager there as a witness.)

    Customer #1: “I’d like to do a change of address, please.”

    Me: “Sure. I just need two pieces of photo ID and something showing your old address. It could be your driver’s license or a bill.”

    Customer #1: “I don’t carry ID with me. I don’t want to get mugged. I took the bus here just to do this. Can’t you do it anyway?”

    (Unfortunately, there is no way to do this. If I don’t write the information down on the form, it will be rejected and the customer’s money will not be refunded. I explain this to her several times, and mention TWO pieces of ID repeatedly. I also write this down on a note and hand it to her. She leaves, upset, and tells me she’ll be back later. Work continues as normal, until I see the same customer come back in the store two hours later. This is after my manager has left me alone for the night.)

    Me: “Hi there! So, you brought your ID?”

    Customer #1: *grumbles* “Yes. I can’t BELIEVE you made me bus it home and all the way back here for ONE STUPID CARD.”

    (At this point, I know she’s going to get even angrier. She’s only got one piece of ID, and I still can’t do the transaction.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need two pieces of ID.”

    Customer #1: “Are you f***ing joking?! ALL THE WAY HOME AND YOU STILL WON’T DO IT?!”

    Me: “I asked you for two pieces of ID, ma’am, several times. I even sent a note with you.”

    Customer #1: “YOU EXPECT ME TO READ A NOTE? ARE YOU STUPID? YOU HAVE ONE PIECE! THAT’S ENOUGH! JUST DO THE F***ING FORM!”

    (The customer is fuming, and there are other people in line behind her. I call my manager, who immediately remembers the customer and tells me to “just do the transaction anyways and she can lose her $40 if she wants to”, but by this time the woman is screeching while I’m on the phone.)

    Customer #1: “YOU ARE REFUSING ME SERVICE BECAUSE YOU’RE A RACIST, AREN’T YOU?! YOU F***ING RACIST!”

    (Suddenly, she vaults herself over the counter and grabs the nearest object—thankfully just a roll of kraft paper—and starts whacking me with it. Security happens to be passing by and they tackle the woman to the ground, kraft paper in hand, still screeching about my “racism” and “ignorance”. I go back to helping the customers that have been waiting.)

    Customer #2: “My god, that was the best thing I’ve ever seen! What the h*** did you do to her?!”

    Me: “Long story…I just needed more ID and she didn’t have it. What can I help you with?”

    Customer #2: “Oh, a change of address. But I only have one piece of ID…” *gets a sheepish look on his face* “You just spent the whole time I was in line explaining that you need two pieces of ID for this form, didn’t you?”

    Me: “Oh, um, yes… so, you know that I can’t do it then?”

    Customer #2: “Yeah, I just hoped for some hair pulling.” *slinks away*

    Customer #3: *grinning* “I have two pieces of ID, and I just want to mail this.”

    Me: “I’m so sorry you had to witness that, sir. You could use the drop box beside the desk next time. It’s right over there.”

    Customer #3: “Oh, I know. But I’m an officer and I wanted to witness that woman in case things went south.”

    (It turns out he really was an officer! He had the woman charged with assault and petty theft for taking the roll of kraft paper.)

    A Wick-ed Accident

    | Valencia, Spain | Bizarre, Health & Body, Top

    (My friend is a nurse at a local hospital.)

    Patient: “My belly is hurting me.”

    My Friend: “Don’t worry, sir. We’ll sort it out.”

    (My friend proceeds to do a routine examination on the patient. Whenever she touches the patient’s abdomen, he suffers from a lot of pain. They take him to the x-ray room for scans.)

    My Friend: “Sir, it appears you have… um… three candles lodged in your rectum. Do you have any idea how this happened?”

    Patient: “Well… er… I was carrying an armful of candles down some stairs and I tripped and…” *trails off into silence*

    My Friend: “So, you fell on a candle.”

    Patient: “Yes.”

    My Friend: “Then you fell again, on another candle.”

    Patient: “Yes.”

    My Friend: “And then once more, on yet another candle.”

    Patient: “That’s what happened!

    On The Straight And Narrow (Minded), Part 2

    | New York, USA | Bigotry, Top

    (Note: My coworker (who is flamboyantly homosexual) and I are the only two people working at the time.)

    Coworker: “Hey ya, how’re you doing today? Is there anything we can help you find?”

    Customer: “Leave me alone.”

    Coworker: “I’m sorry, is something wrong?”

    Customer: “I said leave me alone!”

    (While the customer browses, I head to the back to get some categorizing done. I come back at the request of my coworker, only to hear the customer yelling.)

    Customer: “I will NOT be serviced by some f****t! You people are gonna burn in h***, and I don’t want you taking me down with you!”

    Coworker: *on the verge of tears* “Sir, I’m really just trying to—”

    Customer: *points to me* “HIM! Let HIM help me! Ain’t no f****t gonna handle my records! You, there! With the beard! Come help me, please!”

    (Instead of helping the customer, I wrap my arm around my coworker’s shoulder. Note that I’m not gay.)

    Me: “Is my boyfriend unable to help you with your transaction, sir?”

    Customer: *looks horrified and sprints out of the store*

    Related:
    On The Straight And Narrow (Minded)

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