(I am helping a lady pick a bracelet for herself. She has kept her phone on my table.)

Customer: “Yes, this one will do nicely.”

Me: “Great! So you will be buying this one?”

Customer: “Yup. You have some nice collections here. Thanks for all your help.”

(She picks up her phone, puts it in her pocket, and I proceed to check her out. Suddenly, she starts looking for something.)

Me: “Ma’am, are you missing something?”

Customer: “Yes, my phone! I had kept it right on this table here.”

Me: “Oh, I think you kept that in your pocket a few minutes ago.”

Customer: “No! I would have remembered if I did. You stole it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you are mistaken. I was with you the entire time. Why don’t you check your pocket?”

Customer: “No way! So you can steal something else? I know you sort of people. You appear all nice outside, while you steal from paying customers like me! I will report you to the police!”

Me: “How about I call your phone from my phone, so you can find it?”

(We try my suggestion, and sure enough her phone rings from her pocket.)

Customer: “Uhm… I…”

(She goes red in the face and disappears. She returns a couple of days later with a gift card for me. She apologizes for her behavior, and for my trouble, and goes away. To that lady, if she happens to read this: we all make mistakes, but it is rare that we accept our mistakes. Thank you for doing so, and making my day!)

(I work on the ride with the highest height requirement in the park. I am the ‘grouper’—basically I assign the guests to where they sit for the ride, and I am the final say on whether children are tall enough.)

Me: “Hi buddy, could you come stand on this yellow square for me? Nice and tall like a soldier.”

(The child is clearly too short.)

Me: “I’m so sorry, but he is too short to ride.”

Mother: “Please let him ride! All of his other friends have ridden this.”

Me: “I’m sorry; he is too short to ride.”

Mother: “Please, I promise he’s not scared; he won’t cry on the ride.”

Me: “Ma’am, the height stick doesn’t measure courage; it measures height. Your son is too short; I’m sorry.”

Mother: “But he wants to go so badly; he’s been asking all day.”

Me: “Ma’am, your son could come flying out because he’s too short.”

Mother: “OH MY GOD, REALLY?!”

Me: “Yes, ma’am. The height requirement is a safety issue. That’s why we take it so seriously.”

Mother: “Oh, I just thought you were mean!”

Related:
Taking Stupidity To New Heights, Part 2
Taking Stupidity To New Heights

(My awesome Viking History professor often has Middle Ages-reenactors who attend his class just to listen to him teach. On one occasion, he and five students decide to go to the ‘Steak and Ale’, a restaurant, in armor and long medieval gowns. The server is quite surprised at how they are dressed, and isn’t quite sure how to deal with them.)

Server: “Uh… what would you like to eat?”

(One of the guys in full plate armor takes his armored fist, and slams it down onto the table and shouts.)

Armored Guy: “MEAT!”

(The server jumps.)

Server: *nervously* “H-how do you want it?”

(The armored guy slams his fist down on the table again, and shouts.)

Armored Guy: “COOKED!”

(According to my professor, they somehow avoided getting thrown out of the restaurant!)

(Houston has just gone through Hurricane Ike. Power is out in many areas, but some areas have gotten their power back much sooner than others. We can see a popular burrito place has power, and cooking smoke is coming from its roof. The smell is heavenly, so we go in to order a bunch of burritos for us and our friends. After giving my order of several burritos to the cashier, I add something.)

Me: “Thank you for being open today.”

(The cashier looks at me for a moment.)

Cashier: “Could you just wait a moment?”

(He then brings the owner up to me.)

Cashier: “Repeat what you just said.”

Me: *puzzled* “Thank you for being open today.”

Owner: “I just got shouted at by some woman for not having ice for ice tea—after a major hurricane! These workers came in, even though most of them would rather be with their own families, to help us use these supplies before they spoil.”

(He then taps the cashier.)

Owner: “Their order is free.”

(I’m shopping at a bakery that’s known for making a unique loaf of bread. It usually sells out quickly. Due to the popularity of the item, customers are only allowed one loaf per visit. I’m in the long line when I see there are still some of the special loaves available. By the time I get to the front of the line, I see there’s two left: one for the older woman in front of me, and one for me. There are two cashiers, so I go to the second cashier as the first one helps the older woman.)

Cashier #2: “Hi! Welcome to [bakery]. Will this be all for you today?”

Me: “Actually, can I have one of those [special loaves]?”

Cashier #2: “Oh, sure!”

Older Woman: “What? She can’t have that! It’s mine!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, you already have one. We can’t allow you to have another one.”

Older Woman: “It’s not for me! It’s for my daughter!”

(She then points to the woman standing behind me, who looks equally annoyed.)

Cashier #2: “We’re sorry, but we can’t hold this for her. This customer asked for it first.”

Older Woman: “But I was here first! And I’m holding one for my daughter!”

Cashier #1: “Ma’am, we can’t do that. It’s against store policy.”

Older Woman: “Well in that case, I want to return everything! I don’t want to shop here if that’s how you treat your customers!”

(The older woman has purchased a lot of items, and begins to unload her bag onto the counter. At this point, the people in line behind us are getting agitated, and the cashiers are looking distraught. I roll my eyes.)

Me: “You know what? Just give it to the woman behind me.”

Cashier #2: “Are you sure?”

(I nod. The older woman gets a smug look, as she and her daughter leave the bakery with their items.)

Cashier #2: “We’re so sorry that happened, but thank you!”

Me: “It’s no problem. It wasn’t worth the drama.”

(I pay for my original items, and turn to leave when Cashier #1 stops me.)

Cashier #1: “Hold on a second. We just pulled out a fresh batch from the oven. Would you like one?”

Me: “Yes, please!”

(Not only was the bread I had delicious, but it was even fresher than the two the older woman got!)