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    | Cleveland, OH, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling Gift Card Support, this is ****. Can I have your name, please?”

    Customer: “Oh! Uh! You don’t have an automated service?”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir… what do you mean?”

    Customer: “Automated service–a recording answering the call, and not an actual person.”

    Me: “No, sir. How can I help you today?”

    Customer: “Uh, um… I don’t want to deal with a real person, I want a recording.”

    Me: “Sorry sir, but all you have is me. Do you want to check the balance on your card?”

    Customer: *voice trembling* “You know what? Never mind, I was expecting this to be an automated service.” *click*

    Related: Paul English’s GetHuman.com database

    Simultaneously Fighting And Financing The Man

    | Denmark |

    (This took place at a department store makeup counter. Everyone at the counter was wearing big makeup masks at the time.)

    Customer: “Why are you wearing that?”

    Me: “Well, we’re having a ‘theme day’ to be creative and have fun with the makeup we sell.”

    Customer: “You know it’s bad for you, right?”

    Me: “The makeup?”

    Customer: “Yeah! All the CLEVER people say that!”

    Coworker: *jumping in* “Well, we have educations here too, and–”

    Customer: “Yeah, sure…you’re educated to sell this…this, stuff!”

    Me: “Whether the makeup is bad for you or not depends on the ingredients. I’m happy to look every one of those up for you if you’re worried about the makeup harming you.”

    Customer: “Yeah, right. All the dangerous ingredients are going to go right through my skin…and…the CLEVER people say that!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I’m a chemistry major as well as a makeup artist, so I actually do know about the ingredients. I can assure you that–”

    Customer: *turns to my coworker* “Could you help me find a blusher in a color that would suit me, please?”

    Better Off Popular

    | Princeton, NJ, USA |

    (I was lifeguarding and jumped in to help a boy who had wandered into deep water. This interaction happened with his mother after I helped the boy out of the water.)

    Mother: *running over* “What happened?!”

    Me: “Everything is OK, ma’am. Your son just went too deep into the water. He should be fine.”

    Mother: “Well, why the h*** did you help him?”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Mother: “Why did you have to jump in and help him?”

    Me: “Well, ma’am, it’s my job, and your son was having trouble swimming–”

    Mother: *interrupting* “You idiot! You embarrassed my son in front of everyone! Don’t you think you should have thought about how embarrassing that must have been for a little boy?!”

    Me: “Actually, no I didn’t think about that. I was more concerned about your son drowning than him being embarrassed.”

    Mother: “That’s ridiculous! Why the h*** would you ever be more concerned about THAT?!”

    Customer Service II: The Reckoning

    | Vancouver, WA, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling *** Communications, how can I help you?”

    Caller: “Yeah, my cable box in my bed room is not working.”

    Me: “Okay, I can talk a look at that for you. How is it not working?”

    Caller: “Look, I just want to watch Eragon in my room…”

    (I finally figure out that the box will not take the signal we are sending.)

    Me: “It looks like we will need to get a tech out there to replace the box.”

    Caller: “Why”?

    (I try to explain that the box is refusing the signal and that we need to switch the box. This goes on for five minutes before I give up and try an alternative answer…)

    Me: “Um… the box has gone rogue and is no longer taking instructions from us. We need to bring it back in for training.”

    Caller: “Oh, that makes sense! Why didn’t you just say that?”

    Me: “…”

    Way TooOOOOH Much Information

    | New Jersey, USA | Family & Kids, Rude & Risque, Top

    (Someone had left a massager in my department, and a little boy of about four found it and began to experiment with it. He held it up to his dad’s back and pushed the button; when that elicited no reaction, he held it up to his grandmother’s pelvic area and pushed the button.)

    Grandma: “OOOOOOOOH! It’s a vibrator! ”

    Little boy: *laughing* “Did it tickle?”

    Grandma: “Yes, it tickled! But put it down before you break it and your daddy has to buy it.”

    Little boy: *skips out toward main mall* “It’s a vibrator, a vibrator! I vibrated Granny!!!”


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