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    Definitely Not In The Job Description

    | Chilliwack, BC, Canada | Top

    Me: “Thanks for calling [pizza place]. How may I help you?”

    Caller: “Yes, I would like…” *places order as usual*

    Me: “Okay, is there anything else I can do for you?”

    Caller: “Yes! When the driver arrives, could you tell him these instructions?”

    Me: “Okay. I’ll be your driver, by the way.”

    Caller: “Alright. First, I want you to knock on the window 3 times, then yell like a Wookie. Then knock 2 more times and make alien noises.”

    Me: “Alien…noises?”

    Caller: “You know the ‘click’ and stuff. Like in the movie…uhh, what movie is that again?”

    Me: “You mean Signs?”

    Caller: “Yeah! That’s the one. Okay, so after you does that, knock three more times and then yell, ‘PLANKTON!’”

    Me: “Anything else?”

    Caller: “Oh yeah, do you have any lingerie?”

    Me: “Not on me…”

    Caller: “Oh, well you should drive home and then find some, and wear that to the door.”

    Me: “Okay, is that all, ma’am?”

    Caller: “Yeah, but don’t forget the lingerie!”

    (I decide to go along with the caller’s request, put on some shorts, and roll the legs up so it’s similar to a Speedo. Half an hour later, I arrive at their door. The entire party comes outside to watch my show of knocks and clicks, and then poses with me to take pictures. I got a $15 tip, too!)

    Fighting Fake With Fake

    | Boulder, CO, USA |

    (A customer walks into the gas station and picks up a plastic 21 oz. bottle of water.)

    Me: “Will that be all for you today?”

    (The customer then holds it like he wants to hit me with it.)

    Customer: “Give me all your money! This is a stickup!”

    Me: “You’re trying to hold me up with a bottle of water?!”

    Customer: “GIVE IT!”

    (I pretend to press the silent alarm.)

    Customer: “S***! The cops!” *runs off, dropping the bottle of water on his way out*

    Open Sesame (Bun)

    | Omaha, NE, USA |

    (I’m collecting carts from the parking lot. A woman abandons her cart near her car, so I go to pick it up. Note that she’s also munching on some bread.)

    Customer: “Oh! I think I locked my keys in the car.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. Please feel free to come inside and use the phone to call a locksmith or someone that can bring you another key.”

    Customer: “Look! The window is open just a little.”

    Me: “Unfortunately, I can’t help you get into the vehicle unless you are able to prove that it’s yours. I’d recommend calling a locksmith because that opening seems too small.”

    Customer: *ignores me* “Maybe if I can just get something in?”

    (The woman rips a piece of bread off the loaf she is eating and stuffs it in through the car window.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know how that is going to help.”

    Customer: “I thought…maybe if I could just get something in there?”

    An Offering To The Literary Gods

    | Melbourne, Australia | Top

    (I’m sitting at the reference desk when a lady walks in with a beautiful bouquet in one hand, a bag full of freshly-baked loaves of bread in the other, and a ferocious scowl on her face. She comes to the desk and slams down the flowers.)

    Lady: *growls* “Flowers for librarians!”

    (She slams down the bread, then growls again.)

    Lady: “Bread for librarians!”

    (She then puts both hands on the desk and leans forward.)

    Lady: *snarling* “Now find me a book!”

    Stop The Presses

    | Wroclaw, Poland |

    (I was working on the theater’s ticket-selling system. It printed every ticket using a thermal printer, on paper that gets black in spots where it is heated. A customer comes in with a completely black ticket.)

    Customer: “I want this ticket replaced! What kind of tickets do you sell?! I can’t see anything on it!”

    Me: “I’m sure we didn’t give you this ticket in this poor state. What happened to it?”

    Customer: “It got all bent in my purse and looked ugly, so I ironed it.”

    Me: “But ma’am, this ticket is printed on a thermal paper. It gets black when heated, so–”

    Customer: “You should’ve warned me that I can’t iron the ticket!”


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