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    Your Argument Is Full Of Hot Air, Part 2

    | Cobourg, ON, Canada |

    (Note: I’m working alone at a gas station. It’s a pretty busy day, so even if I was allowed, I couldn’t pump somebody’s gas for them. This conversation happens with an older man who looks to be pretty well-off.)

    Me: “Hello, sir. Are you pump 6?”

    Customer: “Yes, I am! And You know, you should be ashamed of yourself! Somebody should be out pumping gas for these old ladies!”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m here all alone and can’t really pump everybody’s gas for them.”

    Customer: “Well, you should tell your boss to hire someone to do it.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but this is a smaller gas station and my boss can’t really afford to hire someone to pump people’s gas for them, especially since most people pay at the pump.”

    Customer: “So you won’t tell them to?”

    Me: “I know they won’t do it, sir. They’d lose too much money that way.”

    Customer: “You know, it’s punks like you who don’t stand up to parliament. That’s why our taxes are so high! No wonder life’s so difficult!”

    Me: “Actually, sir, the way I see it I have food, shelter and clothing so I’m pretty good.”

    Customer: “It must be nice to have so much money! You don’t know what hard times are like!”

    Me: “Actually, sir, not too long before finding this job I was living on the streets. I have since been able to pull myself off the streets and now have hope for college.”

    Customer: “Yeah?! Well…how would you like it if someone kicked YOUR dog?!”

    Me: *speechless*

    Related:
    Your Argument Is Full Of Hot Air

    Detached From (Digital) Reality

    , | Beltsville, MD, USA | Technology, Top

    (I work for an online retail store. When customers send orders to addresses different from their card, we e-mail them a Word document form. This form requires they fill it out and e-mail it back to us.)

    Customer: “I don’t understand. I’ve sent this form to you several times now.”

    Me: “Sir, I saw your e-mail, but the form wasn’t attached to it.”

    Customer: “Attached? How do you do that?”

    Me: “What program or e-mail provider do you use?”

    Customer: “I don’t know. I just write e-mails.”

    Me: “Well, is your e-mail through Outlook, or is it something in a browser, like AOL, Yahoo, or Gmail?

    Customer: “Yahoo.”

    Me: “Okay. Well, you need to look for—”

    Customer: “Hold up! I don’t even have my e-mail open. Why do I need to do this? I used your program and sent you the file.”

    Me: “What program, sir?”

    Customer: “Microsoft Office. And now it’s opening a bunch of files! 1, 2, 3, 4…20!”

    Me: “Did you click on our file a bunch of times?”

    Customer: “No! I just clicked on what you sent me! Your program is really stupid.”

    Me: “Sir, that’s not our program. We sent you a document. The program to open it is someone else’s.”

    Customer: “Well, your ‘document’ has a virus! There are 20 things on my screen now!”

    Me: “It’s not a virus, sir. Just close those windows down, and we’ll start from scratch…”

    Customer: *a few minutes later* “There. I filled out the form. You should have it.”

    Me: “Sir, did you save it and attach it to the e-mail?”

    Customer: “What do you mean? I filled it out! You should have it.”

    Me: “You have to save it and attach it to the e-mail.”

    Customer: “That’s stupid! Your program should just send it to you!”

    Me: “Sir, again, that’s not our program. That is just a Word document that you save your information in.”

    Customer: “You should use a program that just lets you fill it out and it sends the information.”

    Me: “Sorry, our documents don’t do that.”

    Customer: “This is ridiculously complicated. I’m about to cancel my order!”

    Me: “If you wish to do that sir, it’s up to you.”

    Customer: “I mean, how do you run your business? I have a Master’s in Computer Science! If I can’t figure this out, who could?!”

    Customer Time Vs. Normal Time

    | Columbus, OH, USA |

    (We close at 10 PM. 10 minutes to closing, I am near the entrance folding clothes when a middle-aged customer walks up.)

    Customer: “What time y’all close?”

    Me: “We close at 10:00.”

    Customer: *looks at the clock, which says 9:50 pm* “Oh, good! That means I have a half hour!”

    Whine Isn’t Gonna Get You Your Wine

    | Enniskillen, Northern Ireland, UK | At The Checkout, Awesome Customers, Top

    (I look young for my age and see no point in getting aggressive when asked for ID. However, the picture is old and has been refused before, so I try to get by without it. Alcohol is generally cheaper in Northern Ireland and I’m originally from a border town. This happens on a trip “up North” with friends from “the South”, AKA the Republic of Ireland.)

    Cashier: *before scanning a bottle of wine in my basket* “Have you any ID?”

    Me: “It’s out in the car somewhere, but I am 23.”

    My Friend: “I can vouch for her. She is of age.”

    Cashier: “Sorry, but I can’t let her without seeing ID. It’s store policy.”

    My Friend: “Okay, then, I’ll pay for it.”

    Cashier: “Can’t do that either. I’m sorry, but I’m just doing my job.”

    Me: “It’s fine, really. It happens all the time. I’ll just get the groceries.”

    Cashier: “I’m really sorry. Just we get a lot of young ones in trying to buy drinks.”

    Me: “I know. I’m from [town just over the border]. We used to come up here all the time when we were younger.”

    Cashier: “I feel terrible. Most people get angry, but you’re being so nice!”

    Me: “It happens all the time; don’t worry! There’s no point getting angry; it’s your job to ask.”

    (I go out to the car, get my passport, and make sure to go back through her lane.)

    Me: “Back again! The picture’s old, but it is me, I promise!”

    Cashier: *checks picture and DOB* “I’ll tell you now, when you’re my age, you’ll appreciate being asked! Thanks a million! It’s great to not be shouted at for once!”

    More Middle Ages Than Middle-Aged

    | Minnesota, USA |

    (A middle-aged customer approaches me at checkout.)

    Me: “Your total comes to $15.65.”

    Customer: “Oh! That’s the year I was born!”

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