Customer: “Miss, do you serve Chinese food at this restaurant?”

Me: “Um…no, we serve mainly bar food, hamburgers and that sort of thing.”

Customer, irritated and skeptical, points at one of the servers: “Yeah, but he’s Chinese.”

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…And We Wonder Why Everyone Hates Us

(I was a cashier at a local grocery store one summer. At 9 o clock every night, it was the bagboy’s duty to clean the store…which included vacuuming the rugs in front of the automatic doors. One night, about 8-8:30, an elderly lady comes in and sits by the doors.)

Me: “Hello! How are you tonight, do you need any assistance?”

Lady: “No, I’m fine, I’m just going to sit here.”

Me: “Okay, then.”

(She sits there until about 9 o clock until a bagboy comes out with a vacuum cleaner…he proceeds to do his job.)

Lady: “AAAH!!! What is that? What is that horrible noise? I can’t take it! I can’t take it!” *Walks up to the bagboy* “What are you doing? Stop it! Stop it!”

Bagboy: “I’m just vacuuming the rugs…”

Lady: “Stop it! I can’t take this noise! Why are you doing this?!”

Me and the other cashiers: “…”

(She goes back to sit down and doesn’t leave until late. Our managers come out and forbid the bagboys from vacuuming while she is there. She then proceeds for a couple more times that week to come in at 8 o’clock and if some bagboy even brought out the vacuum cleaner, unaware of who she is, they get an earful about the horrible noise that afflicts her.)

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!”

Scary old lady: “You b*stards better give me a refund!”

Me: “Er…okay. What seems to be the problem?”

Scary old lady: “I was drunk when I bought this! GIVE ME A F&*^%NG REFUND!”

Me: *blink blink*

(An intensely inebriated individual entered our store with two women in tow, one pushing a baby carriage, wearing a jordan jersey, sunglasses, and sporting gold fronts.)

Customer: “CRACKAS STINK! THIS STORE STINKS! CRACKA STORE STINKS!”

Me: *falls over laughing*

Customer: “GOOD LORD IT STINKS! SHE GOT PURPLE HAIR, I BET IT STINKS!”

Women with him: “Shut up! Shut up! I’m sorry, he doesn’t–SHUT UP! ”

Me: *rolls around with glee*

Customer: “STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”

(And from then on I am known as stinky hair.)

(We had sent this lady’s watch to another company, and they ended up taking a very long time with it. Two weeks before this incident she called demanding that we call them and have them send her watch back whether it was fixed or not. My manager told her that it would only take two more days, but she insisted. This happened when she came to pick it up.)

Assistant Manager: “Okay, here’s your watch, I’m sorry about that.”

Customer: “It’s not fixed!”

Assistant Manager: “Yes, you told us to call them and have them send it back whether it was fixed or not. They were almost done making a new dial for it.”

Customer: (Ranting) “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE! YOU ARE SO RUDE. I’M CALLING MY LAWYER!”

Assistant Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am that’s all I can do.”

Customer begins to walk off, still ranting: “I’M CALLING MY LAWYER.”

(She rounds the corner and then in one last salvo comes back.)

Customer: “I AM CALLING THE NEWS!!!”

Customer at a pet store: “Do you have any Geicos?”

(Around 11:00AM, a customer walks into my bookstore.)

Customer: “Hi, I’m looking for a good book on financial planning.”

Me: “Well, this book here is very popular.” *pointing to the book on the shelf*

(The customer stares at the shelf, obviously confused.)

Customer: “You are going to have to show me again…I’m too drunk to see.”

(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.)