(I was sitting at home watching TV. My phone number ends with, let’s say, -1269. The phone number for the bakery ends with -1296. I am constantly getting called by people who think I’m that bakery.)

Me: “Hello?”

Dude: “I need the bakery.”

Me: “I think you have the wrong number.”

Dude: “Oh, sorry.”

(He hangs up. Brief pause. Phone rings.)

Me: “Hello?”

Same Dude: “Can I get the bakery?”

Me: “You have the wrong number.”

(Dude hangs up. Phone rings.)

Me: “Hello?”

Same Dude: “I need the bakery.”

Me: “I think you should check the number…I don’t have a bakery department.”

Same Dude: “Well, you did this morning!”

Me: “I meant I’m not [bakery]. I’m just a person sitting at home.”

(Dude hangs up. Phone rings AGAIN. I glance skeptically at it and finally go over. I don’t say anything.)

Same Dude: “Hello?”

Me: *click*

(He called eight more times that evening. Eventually I just told him we were closed.)

(We have a female customer who is a regular but definitely has some kind of mental issues. On every visit to our branch she also uses the safe deposit box.)

Customer: “Excuse me, there’s something wrong with my safe deposit box.”

Me: “Oh, I’m terribly sorry ma’am. What is the problem so we can rectify it for you?”

Customer: “Every time I visit my safe deposit box I find things that I never put there. Someone has been taking things in and out of my box!”

Me: “I assure you that this is not possible because every box requires two keys in order to open. You have one side and the bank retains the other. Only you have the issued keys.”

Customer: “I know you are lying. I know you have a key that opens very box because one time a friend of mine gave me a key to the city and I went around opening all the doors.”

Me: “Ok…I’m going to have to refer you to my manager.”

Man: *in a terrible French accent* “Ha-ha! I am the Butterfinger Crisp Bandit!”

Me: “That’s nice.”

Man: “May the Butterfinger Crisp Bandit get these for free?”

Me: “Um…no.”

Man: “Why not? I am the Butterfinger Crisp Bandit! I should always get them for free!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t give these to you for free. Two dollars.”

Man: “Why the h*ll not?”

Me: “Because I could lose my job.”

(The man growls, and sluggishly hands over two dollars.)

Man: “The Butterfinger Crisp Bandit should not have to pay, but he will…this time…”

Related:
Like Comic Book Guy, Except Much Prettier

(The office downstairs sometimes calls up to us for tech support. They’re not too great with computers.)

Guy from downstairs: “I think one of the computers has a virus.”

Me: “Ok, which one?”

Guy: “The one in the middle of the office.”

(This seems strange, as I remember that they don’t have any computers in the middle of the room.)

Me: “Have you moved the computers recently?”

Guy: “Yeah, we put it in the middle of the office so the other computers wouldn’t catch the virus!”

(I went downstairs and a disconnected desktop stands in all its glory in the middle of the room. It didn’t have a virus.)

(At a “compound” for a “New Age” cult, we needed to replace the pump in their well. In order to get our truck close enough to the well we had to have them move one of their vehicles.)

Me: “Excuse me, I’m going to need you to move that suburban over there.”

Lady: “Ok, no problem.”

(She goes outside and yells at one of her people working on the yard.)

Lady: “Jebidyah, could you please get the keys and move the Starship?”

Jebidyah: “Sure thing!”

(We had a notice from one of the Nevada affiliates that Las Vegas residents would be suffering from a network outage due to a problem with their broadcasting equipment.)

Customer: “I think someone is standing next to your satellite with a ham radio. You need to run out and get them to stop.”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, but that’s not the problem–”

Customer: “I will have you know, son, I am a Gunnery Sergeant. I’ve worked with Hand Operated Radios for years and I’m telling you RIGHT NOW…there is someone standing next to your satellite with a d*** radio and it’s interfering with my signal. I demand you to get out there and tell them to stop.”

Me: “Far be it from me to ever argue with my clients, but I will have to at this time. I understand that you’re a Gunny Sergeant and that you’ve operated HAM radios for years, but I know my satellite equipment, and it’s not possible for someone to be standing next to my satellite with a radio.”

Customer: “Oh? Really, smart man? Why is that?”

Me: “Because our satellites are in outer space. Furthermore Las Vegas has an outage going on due to a technical issue with their broadcasting equipment.”

Customer: “Oh. Okay.”

*click*

Related:
Military Intelligence

Me: “Hi, can I help you find anything today?”

Customer: “Yes, I’m looking for a book.”

Me: “Great–any book in particular, or a specific genre? We’ve got a large selection, and are able to order almost any book from our warehouse if we don’t have it in stock.”

Customer: “I just saw it on TV this morning, and I knew it would change my life.”

Me: “Uh…ok, was it on Oprah?”

Customer: “No, it was on that other show.”

Me: “Okay, do you remember the title or author?”

Customer: “NO! IT WAS ON THE TV!”

Me: “It’s very difficult to look for a book without a title or author. Do you remember what it was about? Was it a religious book? We might be able to search the shelves.”

Customer: “IT WAS ON THE TV THIS MORNING! GEEZ!”

Me: “I understand that, ma’am. Can you give me anything that might help me help you find the book?”

Customer: “Where is the book? I’d know it if I saw it. It’s got a red cover.”

Me: “Well–tell you what. I’m not able to help you find it today, but feel free to look around.”

Customer: “Why can’t you help me? IT WAS ON TV! DON’T YOU PEOPLE WATCH TV?!”

Me: “Ma’am, I work in a bookstore. I like to READ.”

Customer: “FINE! I’LL GO SOMEWHERE WHERE THEY KNOW WHAT I WANT!”

(The customer storms off as my manager comes out and tells me she’s glad that I handled that; we both break into laughter.)

(A girl pulls up to a gas pump. I’m watching her through the window from behind the cash register as she removes the OUT OF ORDER BAG placed over the pump (clearly marked, bright yellow bag) and throws it in the trash next to her. She plays around with it for a while and then walks toward the door.)

Girl: “Your pumps aren’t working.”

Me: “Go back outside, pull the bag that you just threw away out of the trash and read it. That should solve the problem.”

Related:
One-Woman Wrecking Crew

(I worked as a hostess in a not-particularly large restaurant…)

Me: “Welcome to ****, how many in your party?”

Man: “Two, but my wife will be meeting me in a few minutes. Can I just sit down now and then you can direct her to my table?”

Me: “Of course.”

(So about 30 minutes goes by and in that time about 20 people come in to be seated. None of them say that they’re meeting anyone. The man I seated earlier eventually comes up to me.)

Man: “You failed me.”

Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

Man: “My wife has been sitting at a table across the room from me for the last twenty minutes because you didn’t direct her to my table!”

Me: “Well I’m sorry sir, but if she didn’t tell me she was meeting anyone, I would have no way of knowing.”

Man: “I gave you a job! You didn’t do it.”

Me: “I’m sorry sir, but my job is to seat everyone who comes through this door. I didn’t ask every single female if they were your wife. I assumed she would either tell me she was meeting someone, or look around the room to see if you were there.”

Man: “You assumed wrong! You FAILED me!”

(A customer calls on the phone.)

Me: “Hello how can I help?”

Customer: “I need an air filter for my car.”

Me: “Okay sir, what is the model of your car?”

Customer: “It’s red.”

Me: “Okay, so it is red, but what car model is it? Is it a ford or a fiat?”

Customer: “It’s sort of big and red.”

Me: “…I think you should come round to the store and show us the car you need the filter for.”

Customer: “Are you saying I’m wrong? The customer is always right!”

Me: “No, sir. I’m not saying you are wrong…”

(After this, he hung up and parked his BLUE Audi outside the shop and said it was for that car.)