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    Barefoot And Barely Conscious

    , | Winnipeg, Canada |

    Manager: “*** Shoes, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “Shoes? What kind of store is this? I have a bill here from you.”

    Manager: “It’s a shoe store.”

    Customer: “A shoe store?”

    Manager: “A shoe store.”

    Customer: “Shoes?”

    Manager: “Yes, a shoe store.”

    Customer: “A masseuse? ”

    Manager: “No, a shoe store.”

    Customer: “What are shoes?”

    Manager: “…you wear them on your feet?”

    Customer: “Shoes?” *pauses* “Oh, shoes! Oh, right! It says that right on my bill here!” *hangs up*

    You Have No Brrraaaiiins

    | Toronto, Canada |

    Me: “Hi, welcome to [theater]!”

    Customer: “Hi. Is Dead Snow a horror movie?”

    Me: “Kind of…it’s about zombies.”

    Customer: “So, it’s a documentary?”

    Always Right, Questionable Eyesight

    | Dundee, OR, USA |

    (I’m 12 and helping out at my grandparent’s farm. My 3-year old cousin has been playing too close the driveway, so I carry him while ringing up customers.)

    Customer: “Dear, your son is just darling. Absolutely adorable!”

    Me: “Thank you, ma’am, but this is my cousin.”

    Customer: “Nonsense, he looks exactly like you! Well, if you were a boy, but EXACTLY like you.”

    (Note that I have curly dark hair, and he has straight blond hair, and that’s just the beginning of the differences.)

    Me: “I don’t think–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY like you.

    Me: “I’m sorry, but–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY. LIKE. YOU.”

    Me: “If you say–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY.”

    Me: “…that’ll be $35.”

    Wising Up To Dumbing Down

    | Long Island, NY, USA |

    (I’m showing a customer the difference between a few different products and the benefits of each. After a few minutes, he selects the item he wants.)

    Customer: “Why are you so smart?”

    Me: *jokingly* “Everyone tells me to stop, but I guess I just can’t help it!”

    Customer: *completely serious* “Well, stop it! It annoys me when people are smarter than me!”

    Me: *speechless*

    Customer: “Kids these days!” *walks off*

    Pepperoni Extremism

    | Georgia, USA |

    (I’ve just finished giving a guy his pizza when he notices my car in the driveway.)

    Customer: “That your car?”

    Me: “Yes, it is. You like it?”

    Customer: “Yeah! Mind if I go look at it?”

    Me: “Sure. I’ll show you around it.”

    (We get there and he studies the decals in my window. I have an “Obama ’08″ button on the back of my headrest.)

    Customer: *gasps* “Are you a terrorist?”

    Me: “What?”

    Customer: “Don’t play dumb with me! You’re a terrorist!”

    Me: “What are you talking about?!”

    Customer: “You’re a terrorist and you voted for a terrorist for president!”

    Me: “Sir, I can assure you that our president is not a terrorist.”

    Customer: “But he is! He’s not American! He’s an illegal immigrant!”

    Me: “Sir, why would we have an illegal immigrant terrorist as president if the government were on his side?”

    Customer: *gasps again* “You’re right! Everyone’s a terrorist!”

    Me: “No, no, no! They’re not terrorists!”

    Customer: “You’re on their side?! Don’t kill me!”

    Me: *giving up* “Yes, I’m a terrorist.”

    (The customer screams and runs inside. A few moments later, the pizza falls out a second story window.)

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