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  • September Theme Of The Month: Overheard!

    It Was A Love/Hate/Poison Relationship

    | Ontario, Canada | Uncategorized

    Customer: “Hello. How do you have strawberries so late in the season?”

    Me: “They are a special breed called Everbearing. They last until the frost comes.”

    Customer: “How did they get such a breed?”

    Me: “Well, they bred them especially for this.”

    Customer: “So they were genetically modified? That causes cancer!”

    Me: “I’m sure they won’t give you cancer. There are other things that cause cancer, but–”

    Customer: “Don’t tell me what causes cancer! Don’t you think I know what causes cancer?!”

    Me: “I’m sorry.”

    Customer: “It’s okay, I’ll take a basket. They’re for my sister.”

    Comically Bad Timing

    | Prince Edward Island, Canada | Uncategorized

    Me: “Hi, How are you?”

    Customer: “Good, how are you?”

    Me: “I’m good. Do you have an Air miles card?”

    Customer: “Yes, Yes I do.”

    (He hands me a card that is well-worn and falling apart.)

    Customer: “It’s really old, but it still works well. My god does it ever work well.” *creepy look*

    (The customer pays and leaves, all the while staring at me very creepily. About two minutes later, he comes back into the store, returns to my line, looks at me right in the eye, and says…)

    Customer: “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!”

    A Squeaky Clean Record

    | Cedar Rapids, IA, USA | Top

    (The junior college near my grocery store has some guy who makes very good fake IDs. After a couple of months, we’ve become adept at spotting them. One night, a young customer tries to pass one on me.)

    Me: “Wow, this is a really good fake.”

    (The customer’s eyes go wide and she squeaks in terror.)

    Me: “How old are you, really?”

    Customer: *squeaks again*

    Me: “Sorry, say again?”

    Customer: “Seventeen?”

    Me: “Wow, that’s crazy. But this is a really good fake. How much did you pay for this?”

    Customer: *squeaks*

    Me: “Sorry, what?”

    Customer: “Two fifty?”

    Me: “You paid two hundred and fifty dollars for this?”

    Customer: *squeaks*

    Me: “Well, I feel kinda bad that you’re losing all that money, so I’m not gonna call the police. However, I have to confiscate your ID, okay?”

    Customer: *squeaks*

    Me: “You have a nice night now.”

    Customer: *squeaks one last time and runs from the store*

    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!”

    One Man’s Trash Is Another Man’s Half-Measure

    | Grand Rapids, MI, USA | Uncategorized

    (I’ve finished ringing up a customer with a cart full of booze and cigarettes.)

    Me: “Your total today is $498.34.”

    (The customer pulls out a check that has been taped together, having obviously been ripped in half at some point. It even has VOID written on it. He proceeds to scratch out the information on the check and write in our store name and the amount).

    Me: “You know I can’t take that check, right?”

    Customer: “This is my check, and you take checks for payment. You are going to take this d*** check!”

    (The customer gives me the check.)

    Me: “I can’t approve this. Let me get my manager.”

    (I go and get my manager.)

    Manager: “Can I see your driver’s license, please?”

    Customer: “Whatever. Here.”

    Manager: “I need to make a copy of this, just a minute.”

    (The name on the check and the driver’s license don’t match, so the manager returns with security.)

    Manager: “If you would come with me to our office, the police will be here soon.”

    Customer: “It’s my d*** check! I found it in the trash!”

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