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    Urine Way Over Your Head

    | Durham, NC, USA | Top

    (I was in the ladies room during a shift, wearing a skirt. This is key.)

    Woman, in stall next to mine: “You’re not wearing any pants!”

    (I ignore her, thinking she’s on the phone.)

    Woman: *starts banging on the wall between us* “You’re not wearing any pants!”

    Me: “…I’m…sorry?”

    Woman: “You! You’re not wearing any pants!” *bangs some more*

    Me: “And you know this how?”

    Woman: “I can see your legs! They’re bare! You’re not wearing any pants!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m wearing a *skirt*.”

    (The woman stops banging on the wall, and is completely silent. I never got to know what she thought of a woman wearing a skirt.)

    Thank You, Dr. Frankenstein

    | Orlando, FL, USA | Top

    (I was helping a regular customer who had wandered in–as he did daily–from the nursing home across the street.)

    Old Man: “You’re working again?”

    Me: “Yes, every day.”

    Old Man: “You know what? Every time I see you, there’s a big smile on your face.”

    Me: “What can I say, I love my job.”

    Old Man: “Yes, you have a wonderful smile. You’ll make a good looking corpse.”

    Me: “…”

    (He got a wide berth after that.)

    Always Right, Even When At The Wrong Store

    , | Yorkshire, UK |

    (I work in a motor factor (in America, an auto parts/accessories shop) which is on the same estate as a car workshop. Outside there is a huge sign for the workshop stating the things that they do e.g. brakes, exhausts, MOT testing etc.)

    Customer: “Hi, I’d like to book my car in for a five point service.”

    (Now, we do various easy-peasy checks e.g. oil, water, and we fit batteries, bulbs, radios etc, so often customers are often confused as to exactly what we do and do not do.)

    Me: “You mean the five point check? Just pull your car into the bay outside and I’ll be out in a minute.”

    Customer: “No, NO, I meant the service you have advertised outside! New brakes, oil change!”

    Me: “I think you’re confusing us with the garage next door. We’re just a motor factor.”

    Customer: “But you’ve got a sign outside!”

    Me: “Let’s have a look then…”

    (We look and the sign is for the garage next door, not our motor factor. I point out that our building has a completely different name outside it.)

    Customer: “That’s false advertising! Why can’t you do it?! I demand that I get a free service for the inconvenience you have caused me!”

    Me: “Sorry mate, we’re just a motor factor. I’d happily service my own car, but I’m not a mechanic, I’m a history student. If you’d like the five-point service, try the building with the same name as on the sign.”

    Customer: “This is ridiculous! I want YOU–” *stabs me in the chest with his finger* “–to service my car right now!”

    Me: “Okay, if you just follow me, and talk to that gentleman there–” *points at garage owner* “–I can service your car straight away.”

    Customer: *walks off swearing*

    Hopefully, She’s Not Also Topless

    | Louisville, KY, USA |

    (Working in tech support, I talk to some pretty dumb people every day. This was a particular highlight of the week.)

    Me: “Go ahead and check the icons in the bottom right hand corner of your screen for me.”

    Customer: “I have no bottom right.”

    Me: “Ma’am, everything has a bottom right.”

    Tonight At 11: Mom Coats Baby In Semigloss

    | Maryland, USA |

    (Two women walk up with their little babies, still young enough to be carried around wrapped in blankets.)

    Lady 1: “How much is face painting for the kids?”

    Me: “Three dollars, ma’am.”

    Lady #1: “Could you charge us less ‘cuz our kids are small?”

    Me: *looking for her kids, thinking she can’t possibly be referring to the babies* “How small are they?”

    Lady #1: “They’re babies!”

    Me: *eyes popping out* “Excuse me?”

    Lady #2: “We’re HOLDIN’ ‘EM! They’re babies!”

    Me: “Um, ma’am, I don’t think I can paint on your infants.”

    Lady# 2: “Well why NOT?”

    Me: “Because this is heavy professional paint. It says right on the label, ‘Not for use for children under three years.’ It’ll irritate their skin.”

    Lady #1: “So you won’t paint our babies?”

    Me: “No, ma’am. I can’t do that. It’s not safe.”

    Lady #1: “There ain’t no sign that says you won’t!”

    Me: “I should think that kinda goes without saying…”

    Lady #1: “So this means we waited in that line for NOTHING?”

    Lady #2: “Y’all should put up a sign or something that says you won’t face paint on babies, ‘cuz I thought that was y’alls job.”

    Me: “I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve been doing this for years and nobody’s ever tried to have an infant painted before so I never thought I’d have to mention it. It’s dangerous.”

    Lady #1: “Well that just ain’t fair! Damn, if I knew you wouldn’t do it, I wouldn’t've waited in that line!”

    Lady #2: “Y’all need to put up a sign or something! I thought this was for the KIDS–aren’t babies kids?”

    Me: “I’ve already explained–it’s dangerous. I won’t do it, and neither will any of my coworkers.”

    Lady #2: *as they’re both walking away* “That just ain’t fair. They should have a sign.”

    Me: “Have a nice afternoon, ladies!”

    (I found out later that, after I left, the women came back twice to different painters trying to get someone to face-paint on their infants. Both times, they were told the same thing.)

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