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    A Sticky Proposition

    | Amsterdam, Holland |

    Me: “Would you like mayonnaise on your croquette?”

    Customer: “Yes, please… but not on the croquette itself. Do you have a cup or something?”

    Me: “No, I’m sorry, ma’am.”

    Customer: “Oh, well… just put it in my hand, then.”

    Me: “… Mayonnaise?”

    Customer: “Yes!”

    Me: ‘… in your hand?”

    Customer: “Yes, yes!”

    Me: “Are you sure?”

    Customer: Yes!”

    Me: *fills the customer’s hand with mayonnaise*

    Customer: “Thank you!” *smiles and leaves*

    Me, to my manager: “I need a break.”

    She Who Wears The Pants, Part 2

    | Calgary, Alberta, Canada |

    (I’m helping a couple check out at the front desk.)

    Me: “Okay, and how would you like to settle the bill?”

    Husband: “Put it on my card you have.”

    Wife: “No, put it on my credit card.” *hands me her credit card*

    Husband: “No! put it on my credit card!”

    Wife: “Don’t worry about him, just put it on mine.”

    Husband: *grabs wife’s credit card*

    Wife: “Fine, do what you want! I’m out of here!” *storms out of the hotel*

    (The husband runs out after his wife; 10 minutes passes by and he finally returns.)

    Husband, very quietly: “Put it on her card…”

    Related:
    She Who Wears The Pants

    Also seen on: Not Always Romantic.

    No Wonder We’re In A Financial Meltdown

    , | United Kingdom |

    (I sell insurance. Sometimes, bank managers will ring up with customers who are in the bank. In this case, the bank lady was doing all the talking because the woman was partly deaf.)

    Me: “Good morning, *** insurance, how can I help you?”

    Bank manager: “I’m with a lady who’d like a quote, please.”

    Me: “Yup, no problem. Could I speak to her briefly?”

    (I talk to the customer and get her permission for the bank manager to do the quote with her details.)

    Me: “Okay, can I take her surname, please?”

    Bank manager: “My surname or hers?”

    Me: “Hers, please…” *she gives it* “… and her date of birth?”

    Bank manager: “Mine, or hers?”

    Me: “Hers…” *she gives it* “… okay, and her postcode.”

    Bank manager: “Why do you want my postcode?”

    Me: “I don’t. I want her postcode. It’s her policy, so I need her details.”

    (You get the general idea. This continued, right up until the very end of the insurance quote.)

    Me: “So, the price for the year is ***.”

    Bank manager: “I’d have to pay that?!”

    Me: “…”

    Whole Grain, Half A Brain

    | Omaha, NE, USA |

    (At our natural foods store, a customer swipes her card through the debit machine and is looking at me funny.)

    Customer: “Um… where is the stylus?”

    Me: “This machine doesn’t have one; we have a pen to sign anything. Did you want that as credit?”

    Customer: “No, I want to enter my pin number but I don’t understand how I am supposed to do that with no stylus.”

    Me: “Oh, well… you just press the buttons.”

    Customer: “You mean I have to use my fingers?!”

    Me: “Yes, you use your fingers…”

    Raceless Accusations

    | New Braunfels, TX, USA |

    (At our hotel, the doors are locked at 10 pm due to a recent robbery and all transactions are done after that time through the teller window.)

    Me: “Honey, can I use the bathroom?”

    My husband: “Sure.” *lets me in and re-locks the door*

    (A customer comes to the door after seeing me go in and is redirected to the teller window.)

    Customer: “So, why do I have to check in through the window but she gets to go in?”

    My husband: “I went ahead and let her in since was just wanting to use the restroom.”

    Customer: *angrily* “Is it because I’m [race]?!”

    My husband: “Well, sir, it may have something to do with the fact that she’s a very small girl who couldn’t possibly pose a threat to me, but mostly it’s because she’s my wife.”

    Customer: “… Oh.”


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