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    Just Another Day In Bedrock

    | Massachusetts, USA |

    (Keep in mind, this customer comes in about ten times a day. He’s insane and you never know what you will get from this guy.)

    Customer: “Yabba dabba.”

    Me: “What?”

    Customer: “Yabba dabba.”

    Me: “Okay. That will be thirteen fifty.”

    Customer: *hands me money* “Yabba dabba.”

    Me: “You don’t say?”

    Customer: *angrily* “Yabba dabba!!”

    Me: “Doo. Have a good day.”

    Customer: *happy now* “YABBA DABBA!!!!” *leaves*

    (He comes back about two hours later, talking regularly like nothing happened.)

    I’ll Have The Bacteria, Lettuce And Tomato

    | Indiana, USA |

    (I work in the deli of a very small grocery store. My co-worker had just walked out of the deli, leaving me in the back alone.)

    Cashier: “Deli, you have a customer!”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see you there. I was just washing my hands. Can I get you something?”

    Customer: “I’ve been waiting here for TEN MINUTES.”

    (I know for a fact that he couldn’t have been there for more than a
    minute, because my co-worker had just walked out.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. Like I said, I didn’t know you were out here. I was in the back, washing my hands and I can’t see you back there.”

    Customer: “Well, YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN OUT HERE. What were you doing in
    the back? Your job is to wait on customers!”

    Me: “I WAS WASHING MY HANDS.”

    Customer: “I don’t see why you should have to do that.”

    Me: “Me neither, sir.”

    Around The World In 80 Epithets

    | Northern VA, USA |

    Me: “Good morning, ma’am. What can I get for you today?”

    Customer: “Well hello dearie, what kind of mild coffee do you have today?”

    Me: “Our light roast today is our Guatemala.”

    Customer: “Oh no. I don’t want coffee made by [racial epithet].”

    Me: “Um… well, our dark roast is our Ethiopian.

    Customer: “I don’t want [another racial epithet] coffee either! Can’t you get me some American coffee?

    Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, coffee beans don’t grow anywhere in America except Hawaii. And we don’t carry any Kona.”

    Customer: “Damn [yet another racial epithet]! Don’t want any of their coffee either. I just want some good old American coffee. That’s what I got last time.”

    Me: “I’m sorry. Like I said, we don’t carry any coffee grown in America. Coffee doesn’t grow in the continental United States.”

    Customer: “God d*** commies!” *storms off*

    Sometimes, You Just Can’t Win

    | Ohio, USA |

    Me: “Hello, may I help you?”

    Customer: “I’d like some baked chicken.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, we only have fried chicken.”

    Customer: “How about roasted chicken?”

    Me: “No, we only have fried chicken.”

    Customer: “How about broasted… boasted chicken?”

    (Yes, she actually said boasted chicken.)

    Me: “No, ma’am, all we have is plain old fried chicken.”

    Customer: “Oh, okay.” *leaves*

    Boss: “Hey, don’t call the chicken old.”

    Me: *facepalm*

    Grannies: Gotta Love ‘Em

    | West Texas, USA | Top

    (A new employee informs me that she spotted a little boy sneaking some candy in his pants. I confront the boy and an older woman about it.)

    Me: “Excuse me, ma’am. Hey, kiddo, what’s in your pocket?”

    Boy: “Nothing!”

    Granny: “Oh, h***, again?! Boy, if you don’t put that d***ed candy back, that lady gonna call the po-po on you! And I ain’t gonna stop her none.”

    (The boy, crying, hands me 2 candy bars and a handful of suckers. I thank the lady, and get back to work. A few minutes later, the boy’s mother comes up to me.)

    Mama: “Is that the b****?”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Mama: “Aint’ talking to you.”

    Boy: “Yes, mama.”

    Mama: “Girl, you being rude to my son?”

    Me: “No, ma’am.”

    Mama: “So why you take away his candy?”

    Me: “Because it wasn’t paid for.”

    Mama: “Says who? I got him that candy!”

    Me: “Ma’am, it’s at least 100 degrees outside, and your boy had unmelted chocolate in his pocket. He didn’t bring that in with him. Besides, he was seen taking the candy off the shelf.”

    Mama: “What? Who said that?” *turns to the other cashiers* “Which one of you a**holes told on my boy?”

    Me: “Excuse me, but that’s not important.”

    Mama: “What’s your point, then?!”

    Me: “The point is, your boy was caught stealing.”

    Mama: “Forget about the d***ed candy, you nosy b****! Ain’t none of your business!”

    Me: “Ma’am, your son was spotted shoplifting, which is a crime. You’re lucky I don’t report him.”

    Mama: “You stupid b****! I don’t give a flying f*** about the candy!”

    (She raises her hands as if to hit me.)

    Me, to a coworker: “Call the manager, he should be in by now.”

    (Just then, Granny appears out of nowhere and smacks her daughter with her handbag.)

    Granny: “WHAT THE H*** YOU DOING, GIRL?” *continues to smack and berate her daughter* “Upsetting people like that! No common sense! S***! YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT!”

    Mama: “But, Ma–”

    Granny: “SHUT YOUR MOUTH GIRL! GET IN THE D***ED CAR!” *turns to me* “I’m so sorry about that. She crazy, I swear to God. She’ll never come back in here, I promise.”

    Me: “…”

    Granny, to daughter: “CAN’T TAKE YOUR CRAZY A** NOWHERE! S***!”

    (She walks out like nothing happened, and true to her word, I’ve not seen that lady since.)

    Related:
    Dads: Gotta Love ‘Em

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