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    Even Owners Have A Stupid Quota, Part 2

    | Pennsylvania, USA | Top

    (A customer spent about 15 minutes asking every employee where the 9 inch taper candles were located that she bought the last time she visited the store. All the while, she was holding onto a 10 inch taper candle. Our store never carried a 9 inch taper candle–they only come in 6, 8, 10, 12 and 15 inches. The store owner is observing the customer during this whole time.)

    Customer: “I want to talk to the manager!”

    Manager/wife of the owner: “How may I help you?”

    Customer: “I know I bought 9 inch taper candles here before. Show me where they are located.”

    Wife of the owner: “I am sorry, but we have never sold a 9 inch taper candle. They do not come in that size.”

    Customer: “I know you had them, where are they!”

    (The owner reaches out and grabs the 10 inch taper from the customer’s hand. He bites off 1 inch of the taper and hands it back to the customer.)


    Customer: *to the wife of the owner* “I want to talk to the OWNER!”

    Wife of the owner: “You just did.”

    Even Owners Have A Stupid Quota
    Even Bosses Have A Stupid Quota

    (Full) Front(al) Desk

    | Sulphur, LA, USA | Top

    Me: “Good morning sir, would you like a room for the night?”

    Husband: “Ummmmm…I dunno, let me go ask my wife.”

    (He leaves for about 10 minutes.)

    Husband: “She said yes. How much for 1 bed?”

    Me: “It’s 79 plus tax, sir, but the only single bed rooms we have right now are smoking rooms.”

    Husband: “Okay, let me go ask my wife.”

    (He’s gone for another 10 minutes or so. He comes back with his wife.)

    Wife: “Why don’t you have any non-smoking rooms?”

    Me: “We sold out of them earlier this afternoon. In fact, we only have 3 rooms left for the night.”

    Wife: “Well, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard in all my life! You are going to rent me a room or I’m going to have to speak to your manager!”

    Me: “Okay ma’am, what kind of room would you like? ”

    Wife: “WE would like a single, NON-SMOKING ROOM!”

    Me: “I already told you and your husband that we only have smoking rooms available.”

    Wife: “I. WANT. NON. SMOKING.”

    Me: “I only have smoking rooms left. If you want, though I can give you the location of another hotel.”

    Husband: “We’re only gonna be here a few hours. Smoking is fine. I’m just sleeping.”

    (They bicker back and forth for nearly 20 minutes. Another customer comes up to the desk, and I offer to help her.)

    Wife: “You will not help anyone else until you help me!”

    (The other customer doesn’t seem to mind and stands back.)

    Wife: “Just give me the stupid smoking room.”

    Me: “I need to see your driver’s license, ma’am.”


    Me: “Ma’am, it’s standard procedure for pretty much any hotel you go to. It’s for liability reasons, and in case the room is damaged in any way.”


    (The wife proceeds to throw everything she can reach at me, and tries coming over the counter at me. She then starts stripping off her clothes and running around in circles in the lobby. Thankfully the other customer calls 911 and the police arrive in moments. I gave the second lady a complimentary room.)

    A Mother’s Love

    | Spokane, WA, USA | Top

    (A pimply, overweight 18 year-old boy dumps a satin black flame-job man thong on the counter.)

    Boy: “Uh, can I return this? My mom got it for me.”

    Aloha, Mofo

    | San Diego | Top

    Me: “Hello! How can I help you?”

    Customer: “Hablas espa√±ol?”

    Me: “Sorry, no.”

    Customer: “Why not? Why didn’t your parents teach you?”

    Me: “Because we’re Hawaiian.”

    Customer: “Well, that’s not an excuse.”

    Me: “Do you speak Hawaiian?”

    Customer: “Of course not, I’m Colombian.”

    Me: “Well, that’s no excuse.”

    Wesley Called, He Wants His Tan Back

    | Los Angeles, CA, USA | Top

    (Customer walks in and is a bright white Jewish guy with a big beard.)

    Me: “How may I help you?”

    Customer: “Hi, my brother says you can give me a tan so I can look like Wesley Snipes.”

    Me: “What?”

    Customer: “You know Wesley Snipes, He’s got a great tan. It looks like he’s a real black guy.”

    Me: “Wesley Snipes IS a REAL black guy.”

    Customer: “Yeah, because of the great tan he’s got.”

    Me: “…Okay?”

    Customer: “Look, I just need to be as dark as that guy so I can learn how to rap.”

    Me: “You can learn how to rap without being black. Look at Eminem.”

    Customer: “Are you gonna give me a tan or what? I have all the money to pay for it.”

    Me: “Well, okay. If that’s what you want…but you’re gonna have to shave off that beard and go to the jewelry shop across the street to buy a giant platinum chain with diamonds all over it.”

    Customer: “Smart a**!”

    (So we put him through the spray tanner like ten times and made him pay 35 bucks for every time. We had almost gotten him as black as Wesley Snipes when our boss walked in and asked what the h*ll was going on. He said we had to shave all beards before starting the process. So, now this guy gets his beard shaved by my coworker and the result was the funniest thing I had ever seen in my life. He looked like a freaking raccoon!)

    (The customer looks in the mirror.)

    Customer: “You sons of b**ches, you did this on purpose! You racist b**tards hate Jewish people! All I wanted was a f**king tan!”

    (The raccoon got dressed super fast and ran out…)

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