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    Equality Is Worth Fighting For

    | USA | Bigotry

    (One of my supervisors is an attractive, rather petite girl and fragile-looking, but at heart she’s a big tomboy and much stronger than she looks. She comes into to work one day with her hand bandaged and splinted, and it’s pretty obvious she did it herself. I’m helping a customer in her 40s with art supplies, which is not my area of expertise.)

    Customer: *pointing at my supervisor* “What happened to her hand?”

    Me: “I don’t know, ma’am. She just started her shift so I haven’t had time to ask her. Is there anything else I can help you find?”

    Customer: “Do you think her boyfriend did that to her?”

    Me: “No.”

    Customer: *to my supervisor* “Oh, honey! What happened to your hand?!”

    Supervisor: “Oh, it’s nothing serious. I’ll be fine.”

    Customer: “Did your boyfriend do that?”

    Supervisor: “No.”

    Customer: “How’d it happen?”

    Supervisor: *awkward smile* “Umm…well, the short version is a guy hit me in a bar, and I hit him back…but I didn’t brace my wrist correctly.”

    Me: “Oh, man, OW! You got a boxer’s fracture?”

    Supervisor: “Yeah. I’ll be fine, though. The worst part was having to play piano with this splinted this morning.”

    Customer: *horrified* “You didn’t let your boyfriend defend you?!”

    Supervisor: *frowning* “I’m not seeing anyone, and even if I was, I was closer.”

    Customer: “But you’re a girl!”

    Supervisor: *trying to change the subject* “Ma’am, have you found all the art supplies you need today?”

    Customer: “REAL GIRLS LET MEN DEFEND THEM!”

    Some Sprinkles Come With Sergeants

    | CA, USA | Awesome Customers, Food & Drink, Military, Top

    (At the restaurant where I work, my boyfriend is visiting me. He’s just gotten home from the army and is still in uniform. A customer approaches me.)

    Customer: *points at sprinkles* “Excuse me, there is ice in my ice cream!”

    Me: “Sir, those are sprinkles. You asked for rainbow sprinkles.”

    Customer: “They are too cold to be sprinkles, so they must be ice!”

    Me: “The ice cream is what’s making them cold, sir.”

    Customer: “You’re a liar, you b****! Get me your f***ing manager!”

    (Unwilling to take the customer’s abusive behavior, my boyfriend speaks up.)

    My Boyfriend: “Those are f***ing sprinkles, you a**hole! If you don’t like it, then just go home and make your own ice cream!”

    Customer: *quickly exits the restaurant*

    Manager: *to my boyfriend* “You should stop by more often! I’ll even pay you to handle these customers!”

    Rooted In Anger

    | Illinois, USA | Bizarre, Health & Body, Wild & Unruly

    (Note: My hair is a darker shade of auburn and I am often asked it’s natural, which it is. A seemingly normal woman comes up to the register.)

    Me: “Is this all today, ma’am?”

    Customer: “Oh, my! Is that your actual hair color?”

    Me: “Oh, yes, it is.”

    Customer: “It’s not fair! IT MAKES ME WANT TO RIP YOUR EYEBALLS OUT!”

    All You Can Elite

    | New Zealand | Food & Drink

    (I am a server at a buffet-style restaurant. Since the customers get the food themselves, I am there to seat them, clear their plates and assist with any problems.)

    Me: “Hi, welcome to [restaurant's name]. If you will please follow me, I’ll show you to your table.”

    (I take the family of four to their table and point out where to get plates and cutlery from as well as show them the general layout of the buffet.)

    Customer: “So, I’ll have the roast, some potato salad, and a coke.”

    Me: “Uh, sir, this is a buffet restaurant.”

    Customer: “Yeah, so?”

    Me: “There is no menu. You go to the buffet choose the food yourself. That’s the point of a buffet.”

    Customer: “Oh, I know. I just can’t be bothered waiting in that horrendous line!”

    Not The Best Way To Spread Your Art

    | Washington, D.C., USA | Crazy Requests, Rude & Risque

    (It’s my second day as an intern at an art gallery. We have guidelines for artists who wish to submit artwork. I’m by myself in the gallery when an artist wearing cut-offs and flip-flops walks in. She’s carrying a huge canvas that is as big as she is, but I can’t see what’s painted on it as the front is facing away from me.)

    Me: “Hello, can I help you?”

    Artist: “Yeah, I was wondering if you could hang this up?”

    Me: “Well, we don’t accept walk-in submissions like this, and even if we did, the gallery owner isn’t in right now. If you go to our website, you can follow the submission guidelines.”

    Artist: “But I have the art right here! Can’t you hang it up?”

    (At this point she finally turns the canvas around: it’s a life-size, poorly-painted, VERY nude self-portrait of the artist sitting down with her hands on her knees and her hair sticking up in all directions. Worst of all, she has painted herself with her knees splayed and her lady parts in high definition.)

    Me: “Oh…”

    Artist: “I’ll just leave this here, then!”

    Me: *panicking* “No, wait! You really have to fill out an artist’s submission and we’ll get back to you. I can’t just hang up art without the owner present. Also, we specialize in abstract expressionist art, not…erm…figurative art.”

    Artist: *looking at her painting* “But this is pretty funky!”

    Me: “Yes it is, but I’m sorry, I really can’t accept it. Thank you for coming in.”

    (The artist eventually left. Unfortunately, that meant she was carrying her enormous nude self-portrait in full display down the busiest street in town. I have to admire her pluck!)

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