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    Sophocles, World’s First Toilet Humorist

    | Houston, TX, USA |

    (It was summer reading time for the high schoolers near our store. This girl comes in, smacking her gum and looking rather bored.)

    Girl: “I need this book, it’s called… something like Ode to Pus or something.”

    Me: “Ode… to Pus?”

    Girl: “Yeah its by some guy named So-fo-Kulls?”

    Me:“You mean… you need to read Oedipus by Sophocles?”

    Girl: “Yeah, yeah. Ode to Pus by that guy.”

    (I’ve never laughed so hard in my entire life.)

    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.)

    No Pink Bunnies, But Plenty Of Jackasses

    | Seattle, WA, USA |

    (During Christmas season, our large bookstore gets awfully busy. The phone rings.)

    Me: “Hello, this is ***, how can I help you?”

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

    Me: “Sure, I can help you out. Do you know the title?”

    Customer: “Okay, so the book is about a bunny rabbit and I used to read it when I was a kid. It had a pink cover.”

    Me: “…do you know the title, maybe?”

    Customer: “Look, I’m very busy and I need this book for my kid. It’s about a bunny and the cover is pink. How many pink bunny books can there possibly be? Go look for it!”

    Me: “Sir, we have no option in our search system regarding book covers–”

    Customer: “Look. Go f***ing find it. I’m very busy!”

    Me: “Sure, let me put you on hold for a little bit.” *click*

    (Later, I found out that a customer came in looking for a pink bunny book and a ‘fruity sounding’ bookseller. I’m a girl.)

    (Little Red Riding) In The ‘Hood

    | Roanoke, VA, USA |

    Me: “Hello ma’am, what can I do for you?”

    Woman: “Well, I’m looking for a book to get my daughter reading, but I’m not sure where to look.”

    Me: “Okay, what does your daughter like?”

    Woman: “She really likes ghosts…and gangs.”

    Me: “?”

    Woman: “Oh, she’s a gang member.”

    Me: “Um…”

    (A tiny, little white girl in a wife beater hops up to the desk.)

    Girl: “Yo, mama, you find me a d*mn book yet?”

    Me: “…true crime?”

    (So, I help them find a book about gang wars, because I guess that fits both stipulations and take them to the register. My manager is working the register and tells me that he used to be really good friends with the mother. After I tell him that she said her little girl was a gang member he tells me that “they both were always a little stupid.”)

    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.)

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