November Theme Of The Month: Black Friday!

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Hairy Situations Test Your Mettle

| Rotterdam, The Netherlands | Crazy Requests, Health & Body

(I have very long hair, which I wear in a tight bun per regulation, and I am quite obviously female. A customer walks up to me, but my back is turned.)

Customer: “Sir?”

(I continue my work, thinking she’s talking to a coworker nearby.)

Customer: “Sir?”

(I still don’t pay attention, so the customer taps my shoulder.)

Customer: “Sir?”

(I turn around.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

(The customer is clearly surprised.)

Customer: “Sorry! Can you tell me where [item] is?”

(I point the customer in the right direction. Later on, I’m cleaning one of the registers. The same customer walks up to me.)

Customer: “Sorry about before. I really thought you were a guy.”

Me: “That’s okay.”

Customer: “You should really doing something about that hair. It makes you look too masculine.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Customer: “You look like one of those metal heads.”

Me: “Since when do metal heads wear their hair in buns?”

Customer: “Never, but you still look like one!”

Retail Associate: The Truth



Playstation Meets Playboy

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Books & Reading, Family & Kids, Rude & Risque, Technology, Underaged

(It is just after the release of the video game ‘Playboy Mansion’. In Australia, there is surprisingly no required age limit for the game; it comes with a recommendation only for 18+. A customer approaches the counter with a small boy beside her. She is carrying a copy of the game.)

Me: “Good morning, just that today is it?”

(I indicate the game, and the customer nods.)

Customer: “Yup!”

Me: “I just have to check that you are purchasing this either for yourself, or someone who is over 18. Though there is no legal requirement to be over 18, I must warn it has graphic content and adult themes.”

Customer: “No, it’s for him, but it’ll be alright. He’s eight, but I’ve said it’s okay.”

Me: “I must warn you this game is entirely inappropriate for someone so young.”

(I detail the contents of the game. However, the customer doesn’t bat an eyelid.)

Customer: “It’s still okay. I’d like to buy it for him.”

(I cannot bring myself to cater to this customer, so the manager sells the game to her instead. The customer is about to leave, and I approach her.)

Me: “If you view the game and you’re unhappy, you can return it to us within 30 days for an exchange.”

(The customer is reasonably pleasant about this but keeps dismissing my concerns. The boy skips off happily with her. Two days later, she returns with the boy in tow again.)

Customer: “I’ve come to return this game; I need to get something better for him. It’s not right for him at all.”

Me: “Sure thing. I had a feeling you wouldn’t be happy with it once you saw the content of the game. Sometimes it’s hard to explain just how graphic some of these games can be.”

Customer: “Nah, the game was fine, but you should have warned us about how much reading he’d have to do. There’s far too much to read, and he’s only eight. His reading’s not that good yet. There really ought to be warning stickers for this sort of thing. Have you got anything easier?”

High On Coffee, Low On Everything Else

| Vancouver, BC, Canada | Food & Drink, Theme Of The Month, Wild & Unruly

(I work at a small coffee shop outside a shopping center. There is a regular who is known for being very rude and ignorant about his wealth. I am a 17-year-old girl, who has recently got this job.)

Me: “Hello, sir, welcome to [coffee shop], what woul—”

Regular: *aggressively* “Coffee!”

Me: “Okay, what ki—”

Regular: “Dumb b**** lowlife! I said coffee!”

Me: “Sir, please don’t use that language here.”

Regular: “For f***’s sake! This is why I am rich, and you work at a dump like this! Probably so you can buy your drug money!”

Me: “Sir, I—”


Me: *tearing up* “Sir, plea—”


(My manager comes running out to see what’s going on. Before he can speak up, a small old lady next in line starts speaking.)

Old Woman: “Now listen here, you ignorant rat! This woman has barely had a chance to speak! If we did what you said, and got rid of the lower classes, who would change your god-d*** diapers, and make you your morning cup of coffee?”

Regular: “D*** you! I uh…” *turning to me* “I want my coffee, NOW!”


(The regular turns even more red, and runs out of the store. My manager gives me the rest of the day off, as well as a free meal. The old woman also leaves me a $20 tip!)

Going Loco(motive)

| Sacramento, CA, USA | Criminal/Illegal, Top, Transportation

(I work security at a light rail. The last light rail heading south comes through my station at 11:38 pm. It is currently 11:50 pm.)

Patron: “Excuse me, officer, when is the next light rail heading south supposed to come?”

Me: “Sorry, sir, the last light rail heading south left at 11:38. There are no more running till tomorrow morning at 5:30 am.”

Patron: “Bull-s***! I always catch the light rail later than this. You are full of s***! Just tell me when the next one is coming.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, their are no more coming tonight. I have been working at this particular station for six months, and can assure you that no more are coming tonight.”

Patron: “Well, how the h*** are you getting home?”

Me: “Well sir, when my shift ends, I drive myself home.”

Patron: “Well, you’re gonna have to drive me home then.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, I will not be able to do that. If you would like I can call you a cab. But there are no more light rails heading south tonight.”

Patron: “Aren’t you security? You have to give me a ride home. It’s not my fault the f****** light rail stopped running early. Give me a f****** ride home.”

Me: “No, sir, I will not give you a ride home. Unfortunately there are no light rails running south anymore, and if you are not catching the light rail north or east, I am going to have to ask you to leave, due to a no loitering law on the light rail stations.”

Patron: “Bull-s***! I ain’t going nowhere if you don’t give me a ride!”

Me: “Sir, if you refuse to leave, I am going to be forced to radio the light rail police.”

Patron: “Call the mother-f****** police. I don’t give a f***!”

(I go through with his “request” to call the police. When they arrive, he demands they give him a ride, and continues to refuse to leave. They end up giving him a ride—to jail.)