(I was working in the seasonal section of a large bulk retail chain. It was Christmas time and we sold large sets of decorative houses with lights in them.)

Customer: “Hi, I would like to purchase one of these…” *points to a house set* “…but there aren’t anymore underneath it. Where are the others stored?”"

(I use my price gun to check the quantities of said item.)

Me: “I’m sorry, it appears we are sold out.”

Customer: “Oh, well then I’ll just take this one.” *points to the display unit*

Me: “Oh, that’s just a display unit. That one isn’t for sale.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Well, this is one of those specific items that we are given a temporary display unit from the vendor that we have to send back at the end of the season.”

Customer: “So why can’t I buy it?”

Me: “Well, it’s not ours to sell. It is rented from the people who made the set.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why I can’t buy it!”

Me: “It does not belong to us. We cannot sell what does not belong to us.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “…what kind of car do you drive?”

Customer: “A 2000 Focus, why?”

Me, to a passing customer: “Sir, would you like to buy a 2000 Focus?”

Customer: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Selling your car.”

Customer: “Why? It’s MY car!”

Me: “Well, I didn’t think ownership made a difference to you.”

(She then stormed off to talk to a manager who told her I would be taken care of. He then proceeded to buy me a piece of pizza for making his day.)

(A middle age woman comes up to the counter.)

Woman: “Your machine is broken! It will only copy the first page of my packet and now I have 50 copies of the first page and I’m not paying for them!”

Me: “No problem ma’am, I can credit your card for the copies. Let’s see if I can fix it.”

(When I get to the copier I see that she has laid the entire stack of papers on the glass.)

Me, trying not to laugh: “If you would like the machine to copy the whole stack automatically you need to place it in the feeder tray, not just set it on the glass.”

(A man realized that he was unable to pay for his groceries a few checkouts away from mine and had to leave his cart full of items behind. As he stormed off, he let off a tirade of insults at his cashier, finally stopping as he passed my register, gaping in awe at my long hair. I’m a guy, by the way.)

Pissed customer: “AND YOU! GET A HAIRCUT! YOU LOOK STUPID!”

Me: “…”

(I’m a 28 year old female and work for a computer store. I’m alone in the store when a middle-aged man walks in.)

Me: “Hi there, can I help you?”

Customer: “Are there any computer guys around here?”

Me: “Just me at the moment, anything I can help you with?”

Customer: *tries to look behind me to the stock room and repair area* “Well, aren’t there any computer GUYS here?”

Me: “No. Look, is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Well um…I need this fixed.” *holds a multimedia
jukebox*

Me: “Well, I work in repairs as well so just tell me what’s wrong with it and I’ll take a look at it for you.”

Customer: “Listen, I just need to talk to a computer guy! I did everything right. I put the hard disk in but it still won’t work. Just get a guy to fix it!”

Me: “Well, the most common mistake is when people forget to format the hard disk. I can have that fixed in 5 minutes.”

Customer: “Yeah sure. Get one of the tech GUYS to do it and call me when it’s ready.”

Me: “Sure, no problem.”

(I went back and of course he hadn’t formatted the disk. I fix it and call the guy who shows up immediately.)

Me: “Here you go. As I thought you had just forgotten to format the disk. I did that for you and it’s working fine now.”

Customer: “No, that can’t have been the problem. I KNOW computers.”

Me: “Well, this isn’t a computer, and it’s a common mistake to make when you put the hard disk in yourself. Anyway, I fixed it for you so everything should be fine now.”

Customer: “Look, isn’t there a computer GUY I could talk to?”

Me: *losing will to live and considering a sex change*

(This customer bought a couple packs of white t-shirts and socks.)

Me: “Your total is $28.77.”

Customer: “Were the shirts on sale?”

Me: “Yes, they were $2 off.”

Customer: “How do you know?”

Me: “…because that’s what the sale price is. See? It shows it here on the register screen.”

Customer: “Oh okay. But were they on sale?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Okay. Were the socks on sale?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Our sales change weekly and this week these socks aren’t on sale.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because they aren’t on sale this week.”

Customer: “But why?”

Me: “I don’t know…corporate decides the sales.”

Customer: “Oh okay. What’s the total?”

Me: “$28.77.”

(The customer gives me $40 and I give him his $11.23. I used two $5 bills instead of a 10 because I didn’t have any 10s in my till.)

Customer: “I want a 10, I don’t want two fives!”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any tens in my drawer. I only have fives.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “Well, when I get change from my supervisors they just give me fives. They don’t usually have any tens. And also customers just don’t usually pay with tens.”

Customer: “But why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t really know. Probably because the customers usually get money from ATMs and they only give out twenties.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess the banks just think that people really just need twenties.”

Customer, frustrated: “Wait, why are we talking about banks?”

Me: “I don’t know, you brought it up.”

Customer: “I don’t want two fives, I want a ten!”

Me: “Go ask at customer service. They might have some.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

(I call the manager who gets the guy his ten. He finally leaves after asking me again if the socks were on sale.)

Related:
When They Ask Why, It’s Time To Run

(I work the door sometimes at a local bar, and it normally goes as follows:)

Me: “Can I see your ID please?”

Girl: “Yeah, sure. Here it is.”

Me: “Thanx, mmmmm…this doesn’t look like you.”

Girl: “Well, you can ask me anything on it. I know all of it.”

(I ask her friend that is trying to come in with her.)

Me: “OK, what’s her name?”

Girl #2: “Ummmm…”

Me: “Thought so.” *handing back her ID* “You have a nice night, and maybe pay for your fake next time.”

(So we have this awful woman who regularly shops at our store. One day we were extremely busy and a coworker of mine was struggling to fit shoes for three children.)

Mean lady: “Bring me this size!”

Coworker: *disappears out back for a few seconds* “I’m sorry ma’am, but it appears we’ve sold our last pair.”

Mean lady: *throws shoe box at co workers head, hitting her squarely in the forehead*

Coworker: “Ouch…”

Mean Lady: “I hate you!”

(There is an ID check to enter the lab and to print.)

Me: “Hi, can I see your ID please?”

Guy: “No, I don’t need ID to come in here.”

Me: “Yes, at this lab it is required.”

Guy: “But I don’t need an ID to come in!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I really need your ID or I can’t let you come into the lab.”

Guy: “Oh I need ID to come in? Why didn’t you just ask me for it?!”

Me: *headdesk*

Related:
Zero Short Term Memory
Short Term Memory Is For The Weak

(Around Easter, stacking poorly transported eggs and bunnies onto a shelf. A young girl, around 16, approaches me.)

Customer: “Can you tell me where the confectionery is?”

(I am slightly bemused, as we are standing next to the confectionery aisle.)

Me: “Yes, it is just there.”

(She looks, and furrows he brow.)

Customer: “No. Confectionery.”

Me: *pointing again* “Yes, there.”

(She looks even more angry now.)

Customer: “No. The c o n f e c t i o n e r y!”

Me: “Yes…there.”

Customer: “Nooo. The confectionery, like tampons and stuff!”

(I had just started a new IT job for a large school district and was not expecting the level of stupidity I would be dealing with on a regular basis. Within my first 3 weeks, I receive a phone call from a school.)

Clerk: “Hi, I am trying to use this new system on these computers and I attempting to make my account. My Principal got me started but now I am stuck.”

Me: “What seems to be the problem?”

Clerk: “Well, it is asking me for First Name and I have no idea what I am supposed to type.”

Me: “You’re at the registration screen? Um…well I think you are supposed to enter your name.”

Clerk: “Oh…okay…wait. No, it’s asking me for something else.”

Me: “What now?”

Clerk: “It says…last…name…what do I put here?”

Me: “Probably your last name.”

Clerk: “Oh, thanks…oh Jesus, now it’s asking for my phone number! What the hell am I suppose to put here! Why can’t I just do it the old fashioned way?”

Me: “You mean pen and paper?”

Clerk: “Yes! It was so much easier. These fancy computers are just so complicated. I never understand what I am suppose to do!”

(I bit my tongue and just let her ramble on about how ‘First Name’ was such an incredibly hard concept to grasp.)