(Our sandwich shop has a bell that hangs above the door to notify us when customers enter and exit. One day, a woman comes into our shop, making the bell ring.)

Customer: “Oh! What a nice bell!”

Me: “Oh, thank you, ma’am! Welcome to [Sandwich Shop].”

(Instead of approaching me to make her order, the woman proceeds to open and close the door repeatedly, causing the bell to ring each time.)

Me: “…um…”

Customer: “This is so wonderful! Such a wonderful sound. I could do this all day!”

Me: “Er, ma’am, would you like to order anything?”

(By now, all of the other customers are staring at her. She suddenly stops.)

Customer: “What? Oh, no, thank you! I was just leaving.” *exits*

Me: “…really?”

Manager: *from the backroom* “Make sure we aren’t running out of stuff for all the people that just came in!”

Customer: “How do you change the language setting on The Sims?”

Me: “Well, I’d imagine there’s something in the game’s options. What did you need to set it to?”

Customer: “English.”

Me: “Funny, I’d think that would be the default.”

Customer: “But I can’t understand them!”

Me: “Wait, you mean the Sims themselves?”

Customer: “Yes! They’re speaking French!”

Me: “No, they’re speaking Simlish. It’s a gibberish language.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, it sounds like French!”

Customer: “Hello, I would like to return this item.”

Me: “Okay, what was the problem?”

Customer: “I just don’t need it anymore.”

Me: “Okay, do you have the receipt?”

Customer: “Yes, here it is.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I can’t return this. It’s from six months ago.”

Customer: “Yes you can…” *waves hands in the air*

Me: “I’m sorry, no I can’t. I would get in a lot of trouble.”

Customer: “No you won’t…” *waves hands in the air again*

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not going to do that.”

Customer: *turns and leaves*

Me: *to coworker* “Did I just get Jedi mind-tricked?”

(We provide a complimentary bowl of prawn crackers at our restaurant. When I go to take a customers order, I notice he has eaten the entire bowl.)

Customer: “You know, I’m allergic to MSG. I’ll die immediately if I even eat one milligram.”

Me: “Those prawn crackers you just ate have MSG in them.”

Customer: “Oh, my God, I’m going to die!”

(Two hours later, when the bill comes around…)

Customer: “I don’t think I should pay for the meal. I’m going to die anyway.”

Me: “Um… yes, that will happen eventually, but it’s been two hours and you’re still kicking.”

Customer: “Maybe I’ve died and we’re all in purgatory? In that case, technically, I haven’t eaten anything.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to pay for your meal.”

Customer: “Purgatory waitresses aren’t very compassionate, are they?”

(The bar I am at has a reputation for lots of fighting, and they are trying to change that. One of their methods is to enforce a dress code after nine. I’m at the bar the day their new dress code starts. There is a guy drinking with a cap with the logo of a sports team.)

Bouncer #1: “Hey, man, new rule: no sports hats after nine.”

Guy: “What?! Since when? Why?”

Bouncer #1: “Since today, because last week alone we had sixteen different fights start because some guy got drunk and told somebody else the team on their hat sucked.”

Guy: “So I have to leave?”

Bouncer #1: “Not if you take off the hat.”

Guy: “Yeah, sure, fine.” *takes off hat*

(Ten minutes later, the guy puts the hat back on his head.)

Bouncer #2: “Hey, man, no sports hats after nine.”

Guy: “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” *takes hat off again*

(Ten minutes later, hat goes back on head.)

Bouncer #2: “Really, man, again?”

Guy: “I don’t like drinking without a hat on, so what are you going to do about it?”

([Bouncer #2] leaves and comes back with the bar owner.)

Owner: “Okay, look, man. I don’t want any more trouble, so the way I see it, you have three options: one, you and your hat walk out that door and don’t come back; two, your hat goes behind the bar, and you get it back as you leave.”

Guy: “Not going to do either of those.”

Owner: “Option three it is, then.”

(The owner pulls out a roll of Hello Kitty-print duct tape, rips off a piece, and uses it to cover the logo on the hat.)

Owner: “You now support the Pretty Kitties. I don’t know what sport they play, and I don’t care, but they don’t have any rival teams, so there is no fighting about who is better, got it? You can take the tape off when you leave.”

(Now, every night at the bar I see several Pretty Kitty supporters, and the amount of fights has decreased dramatically.)

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