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    Always Right, Even If It’s Child Labor

    , | New York, NY, USA |

    (I’m a painfully shy 13-year-old, and a customer somehow mistook me for an employee.)

    Customer: “Can you help me find something?”

    Me: “No.”

    Customer: “NO?!”

    Me: “No!”

    Customer: “Why not?!”

    Me: “… I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.”

    You Should Meet Mr. For Dummies

    | Simsbury, CT, USA |

    Customer: “Do you have any Feng Shui books?”

    Me: “Yes, let me show you where they are.”

    (I take woman to the Feng Shui section.)

    Customer: “Wow, she wrote a lot of books!”

    Me: “Who did?”

    Customer: “Miss Feng Shui.”

    Me: “Yes… yes she did.”

    And Miles To Go Before I Seek New Employment

    | San Francisco, CA, USA |

    Agent: “I sent in the paperwork over a week ago. Why hasn’t this been processed?”

    Me: *looking up record* “I don’t see that we’ve received it. What address did you send it to?”

    (The agent gives an address in Los Angeles of a company with a similar name we are not affiliated with.)

    Me: “Our office is located in San Francisco. We’re not actually affiliated with the company in L.A.”

    Agent: “Well, what do we do now?”

    Me: “It’s possible that they’ll forward it to our address which is printed on the paperwork, but the fastest way would be for you to submit a new form.”

    Agent: “Can’t you just drive over there and get it?”

    Me: “Well, no sir. It’s in L.A. and we’re in San Francisco.”

    Agent: “So?”

    Me: “It’s at the opposite end of the state.”

    Agent: “You can’t just go get it?”

    Me: “San Francisco is not near L.A.”

    Agent: *angrily* “Well, how far is it?”

    Me: “About 400 miles.”

    Agent: “…”

    Me: “It would take about 9 hours in each direction.”

    Agent: “You aren’t being very helpful.”

    Watch For Grease Stains In The Concord

    , | Rohnert Park, CA, USA |

    Me: “Hello, this is **** Pizza. How can I help you?”

    Customer: “Yes, I’d like a medium cheese pizza and a 2-liter of Sierra Mist, please.”

    Me: “All right, that’ll be $**.**. Would you like to come pick it up or have us deliver it?”

    Customer: “Delivery, please. My address is…” *lists a house in Philadelphia* “Would you be able to get it here in about thirty minutes?

    Me: “Uh, sir, we’re in California, and we don’t deliver to Philadelphia. Especially not in thirty minutes.”

    Customer: “Oh, well, on your website it said you deliver in thirty minutes or less.”

    Me: “Yes, locally. Not to Philadelphia.”

    Customer: “Oh, well. Uh, thanks anyways.”

    Me: “Have a nice day, sir.”

    Secret Agent Man Loses It

    , | Elk Grove, CA, USA |

    Me: *on the phone* “Hello, thank you for calling ***. This is *** speaking. How can I help you today?”

    Customer: “Yeah, I need to know what kind of GPS tracers you have.”

    Me: “Certainly, sir. We have the Zoombak system here for–”

    Customer: “No no no, I need something smaller!”

    Me: “…smaller? What are you looking for exactly, sir?”

    Customer: “I want to get a GPS that I can slip onto someone’s person so I can follow them around closely! I think my wife’s having an affair.”

    Me: “Sir, we don’t sell anything like that here.”

    Customer: “But you sell GPS’s!”

    Me: “The receivers, sir.”

    Customer: “And the transmitters?”

    Me: “Huh?”

    Customer: “The transmitters for your receivers!”

    Me: “No, sir. Not that kind of receiver. We only have the kind that tells you where you are.”

    Customer: “So you have nothing I can use to track people? Why not?”

    Me: “Well, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”

    Customer: “What about those things for tracking kids, or the things the POLICE use?”

    Me: “The police have special forms for use, and special power to enact them. And the ones for kids are special-case as well, as the child is under 18, so consent isn’t need–”

    Customer: “Well then, I wanna follow my son around!”

    Me: “You just said ‘wife’. And we don’t have them.”

    Customer: “Oh. What about tasers?”

    Me: “We don’t sell weapons.”

    Customer: “You don’t sell a lot of things, do you? What about audio bugs?”

    Me: “Sir, it seems you want the spy shop. I can give you their number–”

    Customer: “Oh, I know all about them! I’ve had COVERT training, pal! I just thought you might appreciate my covert business. I guess I gotta go take my ELITE COVERTNESS over to the spy shop, then. Jerk.” *hangs up*

    Coworker: *listening in*“You sure that wasn’t a radio station screwing with you?”

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