(I’m working the front of a tanning salon and a customer comes up to me, completely naked.)

Customer: “Does this tan look even to you?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I need you to go back to your booth and put your clothes on. You’re bothering the other customers.”

Customer: “But I need to know if this tan is even. Does it look like I’m burning?”

Me: *trying not to look at her* “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I need you to go back to your booth and put your clothes on. You can’t just walk around naked.”

Customer: “Fine! You’re no help at all!”

(We have an older patron who comes into the library to use the Internet. She’s around 65 and not computer literate, so we help her out whenever she needs us.)

Patron: “Miss, could you help me? I don’t understand what is happening.”

Me: “What’s the problem?”

Patron: “I think I had a stroke or something!”

Me: “Oh my God, what do you feel?”

Patron: “Well, I can’t understand the words on the computer. It doesn’t make any sense! I’m so confused!”

(She seems fine, just aggravated, but I call over my co-worker who is in a nursing program.)

Me: “Can you check her out real quick?”

Coworker: “You’re fine. What did you feel?”

Patron: “Well, nothing. But, all of a sudden, I lost my ability to understand writing. I opened an email from my granddaughter and I didn’t understand a word of it!”

(My coworker and I read the email:)

Coworker: “Um, I think she just wrote in a hurry and didn’t realize that you didn’t understand her shorthand. It’s teenspeak, so it’s a little hard to understand.”

Patron: “Oh, thank God…such a stupid girl! I’m going to tell my son to throw her TV and computer away and make her read some books!”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re preaching to the choir.”

(Note: the music from the jukebox in our bar is playing pretty loudly.)

Customer: “Can you turn the jukebox back on please?”

Me: “It is on.”

Customer: “No, it’s not.”

Me: “Yeah, it really is.”

Customer: “No, it’s not. The government turned it off.”

Me: “Erm, really?”

Customer: “Yeah, so can you turn it back on?”

Me: “Erm, okay…” *I pretend to push a button underneath the bar* “…how’s that?”

Customer: “Much better, thanks!”

(I had two deliveries in the same area, and I had the 2 orders in one bag. I get to first house, take the pizza out of the bag and go to the door.)

Me: “Hi, that will be $28.27.”

Customer: “What is this? Where’s my bag?!”

Me: “What do you mean? What bag?”

Customer: “My security bag!”

Me: “You mean heat-wave bag?”

Customer: “NO! MY SECURITY F*****G BAG!”

Me: “You know, it’s a heat bag to keep the pizza warm, and it’s held with velcro.”

Customer: “ARE YOU F*****G STUPID?! I WANT MY SECURITY FACTOR! HOW DO I KNOW YOU DIDN’T PUT ACID IN MY BAG AND TRY TO KILL ME?!”

Me: “Well…here is your pizza.” *collects money* “You may call the store with any complaints.”

(Later she called the store and told the manager she couldn’t put it in her garbage because there might be acid in it.)

Caller: *on the phone* “I’d like a quote to insure 2 cars. Do I get a discount if it’s for 2 cars?”

Me: “Yes, as long as they’re registered at the same address.”

Caller: “OK, first I need a quote for my wife’s car.”

(I run through the details and tell him the price.)

Caller: “OK, now I need a quote for my girlfriend’s car.”

Me: “Er…OK.”

Caller: “Do I get a discount on the second one, then?”

Me: “Only if they’re registered at the same address.”

Caller: “OK.”

Me: *confused* “Do your wife and your girlfriend live at the same address?”

Caller: “What do you think I am? Stupid?”

Also seen on: Not Always Romantic

(I am a female employee. A customer came in asking me to look up a movie about NASCAR that was not in our system.)

Me: “We actually don’t have that movie in our system at all. Sorry about that.”

Customer: “The movie is called ****. It’s about a NASCAR driver.”

Me: “Yes, I looked up the title, and we don’t carry that movie at all.”

Customer: “Well, maybe you could ask your manager to look it up for me.”

Me: “Yes, of course.”

Customer: “It’s just that women don’t generally know much about NASCAR. I mean, it’s nothing personal. I know that I wouldn’t be interested in learning how to knit, or how to wash a dish.”

Me: “…”

(I am helping my friend out at the grocery store she works at, with the manager’s permission. She’s stuck a barcode from an orange on my t-shirt, and it’s refusing to come off.)

Customer: *places three individual grapes on the conveyor belt*

Employee friend: “Sir, where are your groceries?”

Customer: “These are my groceries.”

Me: “Sir, you’ve only got three grapes.”

Customer: “Yes, those are my groceries.”

Employee friend: “Will that be all, sir?”

Customer: “No, how much is she?” *points to me*

Me: “Come again?”

Employee friend: “Sir, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Customer: “Your friend, the one not wearing the uniform. How much does she cost?”

Me: “Sir, I’m not for sale.”

Customer: “Well, do you work here?”

Me: “Well, no, not technically.”

Customer: “Are you shopping here?”

Me: “Um, no. But–”

Customer: “Well, then, why are you here?”

Me: “I’m helping my friends out.”

Customer: “But you have a barcode sticker on you.”

Me: “Well, yes, sir. That was a joke.”

Customer: “Well, that’s false advertisement.”

Employee friend: “I’m pretty sure that isn’t-”

Customer: “I’m going to need to speak with your manager!”

(I’m working at the fast food drive-thru with a particularly large group of cars in line.)

Customer: “It sure got busy all at once.”

Me: “Yeah, it happens like that.”

Customer: “You know why that is, right?”

Me: “No, tell me?”

Customer: “We wait around the corner until we have a group of about ten cars, and then we swarm all at once!”

(And from that day forward, everything made sense.)