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    The End Justifies The Crazy Means

    | Munich, Germany |

    (I worked as a debt collector for a car rental agency.)

    Debtor: *on the phone* “You sent me a court order about a debt. I can’t pay it. But, I can offer you some paintings I made.”

    Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I cannot accept them. You have to pay cash or make a wire transfer.”

    Debtor: “They’re good paintings – I have written confirmation by the Arts Department of the University of **** that they’re good.”

    Me: “If they’re that good, I recommend that you sell a few of the paintings. Then you’ll have money to pay your debt.

    Debtor: “I can’t do that! To sell a painting I’d have to ruin a marriage!”

    Me: “I’m afraid I don’t understand…”

    Debtor: “Well, for a man to buy a painting off me, I’d have to sleep with him. His wife would find out, and she’d divorce him.”

    Me: “Ma’am…I think that you should check your relationship with reality. I am extending your deadline by one week; please pay cash or transfer…”

    Me: *to my co-worker* “I can’t believe she just said that. I can’t believe I just said that.”

    Pepperoni Pizza With A Side Of Pointless Paranoia

    , | Montreal, QC, Canada | Top

    Me: “9-1-1, police, fire, or ambulance?”

    Caller: “Help, please God, help!”

    Me: “Sir, what’s the emergency?”

    Caller: “Someone’s trying to break into my house! Please, send the cops!”

    Me: “Calm down… the police are well on the way as we are talking.”

    Caller: “I don’t want to die! Oh my God, why me?”

    Me: “Sir, take a deep breath. Do you know this person?”

    Caller: “Yeah, I ordered some pizza, I paid, and he gave it to me. I can see through the window it’s him… he’s pounding on my door trying to get in! Where are the cops?!”

    Me: “Sir, I’ll stay on the phone with you if it makes you feel safer. Can you yell what he wants?”

    Caller: “Okay…” *yells toward the door* “What do you want, man?!”

    Pizza guy: *faintly, behind the door* “You forgot your change!”

    Miracle On 24th Street

    | Fallon, NV, USA |

    (I had activated a phone for a new customer with a standard two-year agreement. The next day, she comes back into the store, clearly irritated.)

    Me: “Hi, welcome back. How is your new phone working?”

    Customer: “You messed up my contract. You need to fix it.”

    Me: “Okay, what is the problem with your contract?”

    Customer: “You said I had a two-year contract, but on this paperwork it says 24 months. You need to fix it.”

    Me: “Ma’am, there’s nothing wrong with the contract.”

    Customer: “Yes, there is. You said two years and this says 24 months!”

    Me: “Ma’am… how many months are in a year?”

    Customer: “Twel–oh…well, now I feel stupid!”

    Related:
    Math Is Your Friend
    Math Saves The Day Yet Again

    The World: America’s Theme Park

    | Kuranda, Australia |

    (Note: this takes place at our cafe in Kuranda, Australia.)

    Tourist: “Lady, how about we make a deal? I wanna buy this bottle from you.”

    Me: “Oh, sorry. We only have four of the blue ones and they’re not for sale.”

    Tourist: “So you’re telling me I can’t buy this?”

    Me: “Yes… I know it’s a nice bottle, but we do need it for the water.”

    Tourist: “Lady, I don’t think you understand what I’m getting at.”

    (The tourist pulls a wad of US money from his wallet.)

    Tourist: “I got REAL money here!”

    Related:
    Imperialism At Its Finest

    Testing The Testers

    | Ohio, USA |

    Me: *on the phone* “**** Admissions, this is ****. How may I help you?”

    Caller: “Hello. A man called me from your office yesterday. Can you tell me who that was?”

    Me: “Well, there are a number of men who work in our office. Do you remember his name?”

    Caller: “It was a man.”

    Me: “I understand that, ma’am. However, there are five men in our office who could have called you.”

    Caller: “Can you list them for me?”

    (I proceed to list the males who work in our office.)

    Caller: “No, those don’t sound right.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but those are the only men who work in this office.”

    Caller: “It was a man!”

    Me: “Yes, I understand. However, I can’t help you unless you know any more details. Can you tell me what the call was regarding?”

    Caller: “It was a man! That’s all I know! Please transfer me to the man who called me! You should be able to know who called me!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t track calls that go out. That’s a privacy issue. However, if you could just give me some details…”

    Caller: “My son’s name is ****. Why can’t you figure out who called me?!”

    (I proceed to look up the counselor responsible for her son’s area of the country.)

    Me: “All right, I have the name of the man right here. Would you like me to transfer you?”

    Caller: “No, it’s all right. I’ll call him myself.” *hangs up*

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