(Hanging by the coffee dispenser)

Campus police officer 1 to campus police officer 2: “I smell bacon, is that you?”

Me: “Hello, telephone orders.”

Customer: “Hi, I’ve just seen a bird in my back garden.”

Me: “That’s very nice madam. Would you like to place an order?”

Customer: “It’s kind of a black and white colour, and quite large…”

Me: “Okay, Madam. Did you want to place an order with us today?”

Customer: “What type of bird do you think it is? It’s very unusual.”

Me: “Erm, I’m afraid I can’t help you Madam. I’m just a call center operative.”

Customer: “But don’t you know about birds? Aren’t you the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds)?”

Me: “No Madam. We’re just a trading company.”

Customer: “Well, my brochure says RSPB on it.”

Me: “That’s correct. [But] we’re a trading company. We have lots of different charity catalogues. You actually need to call the RSPB Head Office.”

Customer: “But it says on this catalogue that you are the RSPB. Surely you must be able to tell me what type of bird it is. It’s so pretty. Oh, oh, oh ….. oh dear, I thought it was going to fly off then. Stay little birdy. Don’t go away. Good birdy.”

Me: “So would you like the number for the RSPB then?”

Customer: “So who are you?”

(This goes on and on and on, with intermittent monologue about what the bird is actually doing and what she’s fed it)

Source

Customer: “Hi, I have a Mercedes. How do I adjust my rear view mirror?”

Me: (Wasn’t sure if she was serious) “Well, you must manually adjust your rear view mirror.”

Customer: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Umm…take your hand and move the mirror so you can see.”

Customer 1: “… ah, okay. Thanks for your help.”

Me: “That’s what I’m here for.”

Customer 2: “I need help…”

Me: “… and that is how it’s done.”

Customer 2: “That was simple. You made me feel dumb.”

Me: “That’s what I’m here… I mean…” (I didn’t know what to say from there)

Me: “Hi, welcome to xxxx! Can I get you something to drink?”

Elderly Customer: *pounds fists on table* “I WANT BEEF!”

Me: “O…k… If you’re ready to order, I could get you our Open-Faced Roast Beef Entree?”

Elderly Customer: “I don’t care, I just want beef!”

Me: “Okay…” *sighs*

Pregnant Shoplifter whom the police were just called on: “You’re only doing this because I’m PREGNANT!!!”

(We close at 7:00 PM every Sunday; a couple was still shopping in my department at 7:13pm and we already gotten a call from security to tell them pretty much to get out)

Me: “Ma’am, just to let you know we’re already closed. If you need to buy something please bring it to the counter now.”

Customer: “Closed? what time do you guys close? It’s only 7:13!”

Me: “We closed at 7:00.”

Customer: “Honey, hurry up. They’re about to close. Who’s ever heard of a store that closes at 7:13pm, thats just so weird!”

Me: “Ma’am, we closed 13 minutes ago; we’ve been closing at 7:00 for at least the past 6 years I’ve been here, and there’s nothing weird about that.”

Customer: “Well I just thought that it would make more sense if you guys closed on an hour. Or at least least have an announcement if you guys are closing at some queer hour.”

Me: “Ma’am, there were 4 announcements loud and clear before we closed.”

Customer: “But why would you close a store at 7:13? That’s just queer, are you sure the store is even closed?”

Me: “Again ma’am, we closed 13 minutes ago at 7:00, and yes I’m sure the store is closed–why would I be lying?”

Customer: “I don’t know. *her boyfriend comes out of the fitting room* “Honey c’mon, let’s buy this stuff and get out of here. Can you believe they close the store at 7:20? Isn’t that just so weird?”

Me: “7!! We CLOSED at 7 o’clock!!”

Me: “Emergency veterinary clinic, how can I help you?”

Caller: *worried female voice* “My dog has a red thing on him.”

Me: “Is it actively bleeding?”

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Where is it located?”

Caller: “On his tummy.”

Me: “Can you describe it to me? How large is it? Does it look more like a cut, a rash or an abrasion?”

Caller: “It looks like a little stick of lipstick.”

Me: “That’s his p****.”

Caller: *hangs up*

Source

Winemaker: “…as you taste this pinot you might notice flavors like cherry, vanilla, and roasted meat.”

Taster: “Wow, yeah! That’s amazing. Do you put all that stuff right in the barrels?”

Winemaker: “Ummm…no. Wine is only the fermented juice of the grapes. Those flavors come from the soil…”

Taster: “Oh I see. So you bury it all around the plants.”

Taster’s Girlfriend: “Honey, we should go.”

Lady: “I’m looking for a book; I don’t remember the name, but it has a green cover.”

Me: *pointing to shelf* “All of our green books are over there.”