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    The Land Of Milk And Money

    , | Minnesota, USA | Bigotry, Top

    (I am working at a packing house, cutting checks for local dairy farmers who sell us one or two cows at a time. They are given a scale ticket in the barn, which I use to cut a check.)

    Me: “Hi, can I have your scale ticket?”

    Farmer: “I’d like him to help me.” *points at a USDA associate*

    Me: “Sorry, sir, but he doesn’t work for us. He works for the USDA.”

    Farmer: “Well, I’d like you to find a MAN who can cut me a check for my cows.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but none of the men that work here know how to cut checks. All our office staff members are women.”

    Farmer: “Don’t lie, you little hussy! Only men can run a business! You go back to making coffee!”

    Me: “Sir, you run a dairy farm, correct?”

    Farmer: “Yeah.”

    Me: “And you make money from the milk you sell?”

    Farmer: “That’s how a dairy farm works, sweetheart. Now get me a–”

    Me: “So, basically, milk is money to you?”

    Farmer: “Yes. Now get me a–”

    Me: “And does the milk come from male cattle?”

    Farmer: “Ha ha! NO!”

    Me: *pointed look*

    Farmer: *hands me the scale ticket*

    Always Right, Questionable Eyesight

    | Dundee, OR, USA |

    (I’m 12 and helping out at my grandparent’s farm. My 3-year old cousin has been playing too close the driveway, so I carry him while ringing up customers.)

    Customer: “Dear, your son is just darling. Absolutely adorable!”

    Me: “Thank you, ma’am, but this is my cousin.”

    Customer: “Nonsense, he looks exactly like you! Well, if you were a boy, but EXACTLY like you.”

    (Note that I have curly dark hair, and he has straight blond hair, and that’s just the beginning of the differences.)

    Me: “I don’t think–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY like you.

    Me: “I’m sorry, but–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY. LIKE. YOU.”

    Me: “If you say–”

    Customer: “EXACTLY.”

    Me: “…that’ll be $35.”

    Attack Of The Cownivores

    , | Hawarden, IA, USA | Top

    (Most corn that is grown in Iowa is for livestock. We sell sweet corn at our stand that sits in front of our feed corn field by the road.)

    Customer: “I want some of that corn.” *gestures toward feed corn field*

    Me: “Oh, that’s not sweet corn. That’s feed corn.”

    Customer: “What?! All corn is sweet corn.”

    Me: “No, there is sweet corn grown especially for humans and feed corn grown for cattle.”

    Customer: “Bulls***! I know you stupid hicks are trying to cheat me! Cows are meat-eaters!”

    Just Check The Stalk’s Expiration Date

    | Nova Scotia, Canada |

    (This happened during corn season last year.)

    Customer: “Excuse me, how fresh is this corn?”

    Me: “It was just picked this morning, so it’s about as fresh as it gets.”

    Customer: “Yes, but God knows how long it’s been growing!”

    Confuse ‘em With Kindness

    | Massachusetts, USA |

    (I am working as a cashier at a small farm stand and a man comes to purchase.)

    Me: “Hello, how are you doing today?”

    Customer: “I’m good. You?”

    Me: “Very well, thank–”

    Customer: “You d*** teenagers! None of you have any manners anymore! I swear, I have no idea–wait. What did you say again?”

    Me: “Very well, thank you.”

    Customer: “Oh, okay.”

    (I finish totalling his purchase, he pays.)

    Me: “Thank you so very much, kind sir. I certainly hope you have the most wonderful day. Please come back soon, if you wish.”

    Customer: *sheepishly* “… thanks…”

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