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    The Broad Who Was Too Broad

    | Pontiac, MI, USA |

    Me: “Hi, can I help you find anything today?”

    Customer: “Yes, I’m looking for a book.”

    Me: “Great–any book in particular, or a specific genre? We’ve got a large selection, and are able to order almost any book from our warehouse if we don’t have it in stock.”

    Customer: “I just saw it on TV this morning, and I knew it would change my life.”

    Me: “Uh…ok, was it on Oprah?”

    Customer: “No, it was on that other show.”

    Me: “Okay, do you remember the title or author?”

    Customer: “NO! IT WAS ON THE TV!”

    Me: “It’s very difficult to look for a book without a title or author. Do you remember what it was about? Was it a religious book? We might be able to search the shelves.”

    Customer: “IT WAS ON THE TV THIS MORNING! GEEZ!”

    Me: “I understand that, ma’am. Can you give me anything that might help me help you find the book?”

    Customer: “Where is the book? I’d know it if I saw it. It’s got a red cover.”

    Me: “Well–tell you what. I’m not able to help you find it today, but feel free to look around.”

    Customer: “Why can’t you help me? IT WAS ON TV! DON’T YOU PEOPLE WATCH TV?!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I work in a bookstore. I like to READ.”

    Customer: “FINE! I’LL GO SOMEWHERE WHERE THEY KNOW WHAT I WANT!”

    (The customer storms off as my manager comes out and tells me she’s glad that I handled that; we both break into laughter.)

    Big Yellow Warning Bags Are Your Friend

    | Ames, IA, USA | Top

    (A girl pulls up to a gas pump. I’m watching her through the window from behind the cash register as she removes the OUT OF ORDER BAG placed over the pump (clearly marked, bright yellow bag) and throws it in the trash next to her. She plays around with it for a while and then walks toward the door.)

    Girl: “Your pumps aren’t working.”

    Me: “Go back outside, pull the bag that you just threw away out of the trash and read it. That should solve the problem.”

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    Oh Noes, I Fails

    | Capitola, CA, USA |

    (I worked as a hostess in a not-particularly large restaurant…)

    Me: “Welcome to ****, how many in your party?”

    Man: “Two, but my wife will be meeting me in a few minutes. Can I just sit down now and then you can direct her to my table?”

    Me: “Of course.”

    (So about 30 minutes goes by and in that time about 20 people come in to be seated. None of them say that they’re meeting anyone. The man I seated earlier eventually comes up to me.)

    Man: “You failed me.”

    Me: “Excuse me, sir?”

    Man: “My wife has been sitting at a table across the room from me for the last twenty minutes because you didn’t direct her to my table!”

    Me: “Well I’m sorry sir, but if she didn’t tell me she was meeting anyone, I would have no way of knowing.”

    Man: “I gave you a job! You didn’t do it.”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, but my job is to seat everyone who comes through this door. I didn’t ask every single female if they were your wife. I assumed she would either tell me she was meeting someone, or look around the room to see if you were there.”

    Man: “You assumed wrong! You FAILED me!”

    If You’re Gonna Be Off, Be Waaaay Off

    | Lincoln, UK |

    (A customer calls on the phone.)

    Me: “Hello how can I help?”

    Customer: “I need an air filter for my car.”

    Me: “Okay sir, what is the model of your car?”

    Customer: “It’s red.”

    Me: “Okay, so it is red, but what car model is it? Is it a ford or a fiat?”

    Customer: “It’s sort of big and red.”

    Me: “…I think you should come round to the store and show us the car you need the filter for.”

    Customer: “Are you saying I’m wrong? The customer is always right!”

    Me: “No, sir. I’m not saying you are wrong…”

    (After this, he hung up and parked his BLUE Audi outside the shop and said it was for that car.)

    Fun With Mistaken Identities

    | Perth, Australia |

    (I was a customer in a certain large toy store during Christmas and it was crowded. I’m on my lunch break, but still have the name tag on from my job. Note I am not in a uniform–I’m in jeans and a t-shirt. I get to where the queue is, and a woman accosts me.)

    Her: “It’s about time you opened another register! It’s disgraceful you keep us waiting like this, we’re busy people!”

    Me: “You know, you’re right. It IS disgraceful. I quit!”

    (I take off my badge before she realises I’m not an employee, and walk out of the store.)


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