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    The Land Of Milk And Money

    , | Minnesota, USA | Bigotry, Top

    (I am working at a packing house, cutting checks for local dairy farmers who sell us one or two cows at a time. They are given a scale ticket in the barn, which I use to cut a check.)

    Me: “Hi, can I have your scale ticket?”

    Farmer: “I’d like him to help me.” *points at a USDA associate*

    Me: “Sorry, sir, but he doesn’t work for us. He works for the USDA.”

    Farmer: “Well, I’d like you to find a MAN who can cut me a check for my cows.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but none of the men that work here know how to cut checks. All our office staff members are women.”

    Farmer: “Don’t lie, you little hussy! Only men can run a business! You go back to making coffee!”

    Me: “Sir, you run a dairy farm, correct?”

    Farmer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “And you make money from the milk you sell?”

    Farmer: “That’s how a dairy farm works, sweetheart. Now get me a–”

    Me: “So, basically, milk is money to you?”

    Farmer: “Yes. Now get me a–”

    Me: “And does the milk come from male cattle?”

    Farmer: “Ha ha! NO!”

    Me: *pointed look*

    Farmer: *hands me the scale ticket*

    No Aptitude For Latitude

    | Table Mountain, South Africa |

    (I am a customer standing behind a couple, obviously from overseas. The ticket lady had just told them that the cable car is out of order because it’s being serviced.)

    Customer: “That’s unacceptable! We’ve come all the way to see the top of Table Mountain!”

    (I see that the ticket lady is tired of explaining the same thing over and over, so I chip in.)

    Me: “They have to service the cable car because it’s off-season. They don’t want people to get hurt if the cable car breaks.”

    Customer: “Well, it’s summer where we come from!”

    Best. Grandpa. Ever.

    | Portland, ME, USA | Top

    (I work at a small grocery store owned by my Grandpa. It’s in the middle of summer and a customer wearing a thick jacket comes in.)

    Customer: “Can I get some cigarettes?”

    Grandpa: “Excuse me, would you mind open your jacket up?”

    Customer: “No, why would I do that!”

    Grandpa: “Sir, I saw you take that beer. Give it back and we won’t press charges.”

    Customer: “That’s crazy, I didn’t take anything!”

    Grandpa: “Sir, I–”

    (The customer seems like he is about to run, and my grandpa grabs his arm. The customer tries to shove him away, but in the process he opens his coat and reveals the stolen goods.)

    Customer: “GET OFF!”

    (My grandpa grabs his balls, and begins squeezing them.)

    Grandpa: “Just put the beer down, and I won’t pop them!”

    (He put the beer down.)

    Wrong About The Right

    | Leicestershire, UK |

    (I’m filling out a return slip for a customer.)

    Customer: “Oh! You’re a lefty!”

    Me: “Err no, this is my right hand.”

    Customer: “But it’s on my left!”

    Me: “It’s still my right hand.”

    Third Tail’s A Charm

    | Sanibel, FL, USA |

    Customer: “Hi, I’m planning to stay here for a few days and just wanted to find out whether I can bring pets.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but our hotel has a strict no pet policy.”

    Customer: “So I can’t bring my dog?”

    Me: “No, I’m afraid not.”

    Customer: “But it’s tiny, doesn’t shed, and I guarantee I’ll always let it out in time.”

    Me: “No, I’m sorry.”

    Customer: “What about my cat?”

    Me: “No pets, sir.”

    Customer: “Alright, fine.” *stands around for several moments* “So my wife can bring her hamster, right?”

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