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    Deranged Decades

    , | Ottawa, ON, Canada |

    (I used to work summers for my dad, who is a psychiatrist.)

    Me: “Good morning, Dr. ***’s Office, how can I help you?”

    Caller: “Hi, I need to make an appointment with Dr. ***. Can I speak with him?”

    Me: “Sorry, he’s with a patient right now but if you give me your information, I’ll set up an appointment for you. Are you currently a patient of Dr. ***?”

    Caller: “Yes, I was a guinea pig of his when he did lithium experiments on me back in the 1940′s.”

    Me: “Um… I think you got your dates wrong. Dr. *** wasn’t born at that time.”

    Caller: “Oh, then in the 1950′s. It was in the 1950′s and he and the government were running secret experiments on me at that time.”

    Me: “I doubt that, he would have just been a young child at that time.”

    Caller: “Then it was the 1960′s, d*** it! It was at the [hospital] in Alberta in the 1960′s.”

    Me: “Dr. *** has never practiced in Alberta. He wasn’t even living in Canada at that time.”

    Caller: “Are you calling me a LIAR?”

    Me: “Well, considering that Dr. *** is my dad, I think I’ll take my word over yours.”

    Caller: “Well, then we can’t do business. No, we can’t do any business. Goodbye!” *hangs up*

    Me: “Wow…”

    Is That A Tumor In Your Pocket…

    | Canada |

    (A customer is looking in our pet store’s front window at our display of hamsters, rats and mice.)

    Customer: “I want to make a complaint.”

    Me: “Sure, would you like me to get the store manager?”

    Customer: “Yes, right this minute.”

    (I get the manager.)

    Manager: “Yes, ma’am, what seems to be the problem?”

    Customer: “I can’t believe you would actually have sick rats on display in the front window! I am going to call the humane society and have this store shut down!¬†I am sickened that would actually have poor rats that have CANCER in the storefront window!”

    Manager: “… cancer?”

    Customer: ¬†” YES! Just look at the size of those TUMORS on the poor backsides of all those rats in that cage!”

    Manager: “Um, ma’am… those are their testicles. They are full grown male rats.”

    Customer: ¬†*blushes* “… oh. Sorry.”

    While You’re At It, Do My Taxes Too

    | Reno, NV, USA |

    (It’s May 5th, and I’m remotely connected to a customer’s computer helping her with a billing issue.)

    Customer: “What race are you?”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: “Well, I’m only asking because it’s Cinco De Mayo, and I’m Mexican. Well, I have Mexican blood.”

    Me: “Oh.”

    Customer: ¬†”I need to go drink margaritas now. Could you just stay in my computer and do my billing for me? I’ll come back in the morning and print the bills out.”

    Me: “…”

    PB&Js In My PJs

    | California, USA |

    Me: “Hello?”

    Male caller: “Hi, I’d like a #9 and–”

    Me: “Uh, excuse me?”

    Male caller: “That was a #9.”

    Me: “This isn’t a sandwich store.”

    Male caller: “No? Where am I calling?”

    Me: “My… house?”

    Male caller: “Oh. Can you make me a sandwich anyway?”

    Drunk Dialin’

    | London, ON, Canada |

    Me: “Thank you for calling [phone company], how may I help you?”

    Customer: *slurring* “Yeeeaah, you f***ers owe me a 40 of Jack Daniels!”

    Me: “Pardon me?”

    Customer: “I SAID YOU OWE ME A 40 OF JACK!”

    Me: “Why is that, sir?”

    Customer: “Well, youse is the phone company, right? Youse guys make the phones ring, right?”

    Me: “Umm…”

    Customer: “My phone f***ing rang and I knocked my bottle over tryin’ to get it.”

    Me: “Oh, right.” *laughs*

    Customer: “YOU THINK I’M JOKIN’?! Get me a manager!”

    Me: “Sir, we’re not responsible for you knocking over your liquor.”

    Customer: “Yes you f***in’ are! I want a credit on my bill!”

    Me: *click*


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