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    Pantzilla Gets Schooled

    , | Columbus, OH, USA |

    (At the clothing store where I work, I’ve spent hours folding and sizing jeans into a wall display. A customer comes up starts to look for her size.)

    Me: “Hi there! How are you today? My name is ***. Can I help you find the size or style of jeans you are looking for today?”

    Customer: “No, I’m just looking… thanks.”

    Me: “Alright. Well, you just let me know if you need any help.”

    (As I go back to folding jeans, she pulls out a pile I’ve already fixed, proceeds to destroy it and shoves it back in the wall.)

    Me: “Are you sure I can’t help you find what you are looking for?”

    Customer: “Nah, I’m alright.”

    (She destroys pile number #2.)

    Me: *wincing* “I might be able to help you find the size you are looking for a little faster…”

    Customer: “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

    (She destroys pile number #3.)

    Me: “Ma’am, please let me help you since I know where everything is.”

    Customer: “I said I was okay! Don’t you people have better things to do than bug your shoppers?! I don’t need your help!”

    Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m going to help you anyway. I’ve spent nearly six hours refolding and fixing this wall because customers like you come in and ruin it with no regard to the people who have to clean up your mess. Since we size things with the smallest size at the top and the largest size at the bottom, I suggest that you look somewhere near the bottom pile for your jeans!”

    Customer: *jaw drops* “ARE YOU CALLING ME FAT?!”

    Me: “No, I’m implying it.”

    Customer: “WELL I NEVER!” *storms out*

    (I got written up, but it was totally worth it!)

    Speak For Yourself, Part 2

    , | Chicago, IL, USA |

    Me: “Thank you for calling ***, how can I help you?”

    Caller: “Hi, do you carry [garbled]? It’s a spice.”

    Me: “No, I’m sorry, this is a retail clothing store.”

    Caller: “So, you don’t have it?”

    Me: “No, I’m sorry, you may have dialed the wrong number.”

    Caller: “I did NOT dial wrong. ¬†I looked you up in the phone book and this IS the right number, so just tell me if you have it!”

    Me: “We do not.”

    Caller: “What spices do you carry?”

    Me: “We don’t carry spices. We only carry women’s clothing.”

    Caller: “YOU SHOULD LEARN HOW TO READ A PHONE BOOK!” *hangs up*

    Related:
    Speak For Yourself

    How Cute, You Learned A New Vocab

    , | Upstate New York, USA |

    Customer: “I want this particular size in this particular style of jeans.”

    Me: “Well, I don’t see your size out here, so let me check the back.”

    (I go to check the stock room, even though I know we’re out.)

    Me: “I’m sorry, but we’re all out.”

    Customer: “You’re persecuting me.”

    Me: “Excuse me?”

    Customer: “You heard me; you’re persecuting me.”

    Me: “… I can check with the store across town to see if they have what you’re looking for.”

    Customer: “Fine.”

    (The store across town has a pair of the jeans in question. I ask the customer if she wants to go pick them up; the store will have them on hold for her.)

    Customer: “You mean I have to drive all the way across town?”

    Me: “Yes.”

    Customer: “You’re persecuting me.”

    Me: “Well, if you can wait until tomorrow afternoon, we can have the other store ship them and you can pick them up here.”

    Customer: “So, you want me to wait an extra day and make an extra trip back here for a pair of jeans.”

    Me: “Or drive across town for them today, yes.”

    Customer: “You’re persecuting me.”

    Me: “…”

    How To Lose Your Marbles In Style

    , | Florida, USA | Top

    (Our store used to have a completely gutted 1957 Chevy truck as a center piece. It was part of the store’s trademark. Walking down the store past the truck, I am stopped by an old man.)

    Me: “Sir?”

    Old Man: “Young lady, how much are you selling this truck for?”

    Me: “Sorry sir, the truck isn’t for sale. It’s owned by [company].”

    Old Man: “I’ll give you 100 dollars for it.”

    Me: “Sir, the truck is not for sale. I apologize.”

    Old Man: “All right…I’ll give you two hundred!”

    Me: “Sir, the truck is not for sale. And even if it was, it would be for a LOT more than 200 dollars.”

    Old Man: “Yes, I suppose you’re right… SAY! SOMEONE STEALING, LOOK!” *points behind me*

    (As I turn to look behind me, the man climbs the crates next to the truck, opens the driver’s seat door and gets behind the wheel.)

    Old Man: “WHOOOOOOOOO-HAW! CAN’T CATCH ME NOW, CAN YOU!” *swings steering wheel around and starts to make gun noises* “PEW PEW! PEWW PEW!”

    (Mall Security ended up being called, after the old man was “trying” to run us over. I wish I was joking.)

    Some Questions Should Never Be Asked, Part 2

    , | Riverhead, NY, USA |

    (A customer approaches one of my cashiers holding two children’s t-shirts with identical logos one boys and one girls. We were having a liquidation sale and all boys’ clothing was 40% off while girls’ clothing was 50% off.)

    Customer: “What’s the discount on these?”

    Cashier: “One is 40% off and the other is 50% off.”

    Customer: “Why are they different?”

    Cashier: “One is girls and one is boys.”

    Customer: “I don’t understand… what’s the difference between girls and boys?”

    Cashier: *without even skipping a beat* “Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina.”

    (Cue the entire checkout line laughing.)

    Related:
    Some Questions Should Never Be Asked

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