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    A Sleepwalk To Remember

    | Nova Scotia, Canada |

    (I work in customer service, where tobacco products and lottery tickets are purchased.)

    Me: “Do you need any cigarettes or lotto with that today, ma’am?”

    Customer: “Excuse me?!”

    Me: “Do you need any cigarettes or lotto today?”

    Customer: “What do you mean by that?”

    Me: “…do you need to purchase any cigarettes or lotto today?”

    Customer: “But, what do you mean by that?”

    Me: “I mean…do you want to buy cigarettes or lotto today?”

    Customer: *blank stare* “What?”

    Me: “Do you know what cigarettes and lotto are?”

    Customer: *shakes head* “Um…” *confused look*

    (I explain to her what cigarettes and lotto are, then I ring the lady’s purchase in and put it in a bag. She punches in her number for her debit card but stops halfway through and looks at me.)

    Customer: “Aw crap, I forgot to buy my cigarettes.”

    Dinner Without A Show Is No Dinner At All

    | Buffalo, NY, USA |

    (I’m cashing out a customer and bagging his groceries.)

    Me: “And what’s in your bakery bag, sir?”

    Customer: “A cantaloupe. I put it in there to get ripe.”

    Me: “OK…”

    Customer: “You know what they do in California? They JUGGLE the fruit – the cantaloupes and the mangoes and the apples and such.”

    Me: “Oh, that must be neat to see–”

    Customer: “YOU SHOULD DO THAT!”

    Me: *laughing* “That’d be interesting, but I don’t know how to juggle.”

    Customer: “You mean to tell me you can’t juggle this fruit?”

    Me: “I’m afraid not…”

    Customer: “Then take the cantaloupe off. I don’t want it if you won’t juggle it for me.”

    Hand Washing’s Heyday Is Gone

    | British Columbia, Canada |

    (I was bagging groceries at a till when this occured.)

    Me: “Would you like your meat wrapped in plastic?”

    Customer: “Why would I want that?”

    Me: “Well, it’s to prevent cross contamination. If your chicken were to leak, it could contaminate your beef.”

    Customer: “That’s bull!”

    Me: “Uh…what?”

    Customer: “Cross contamination doesn’t exist any more. It hasn’t for fifty years. Where have you been?”

    Me: “…”

    It’s One Big Greasy Conspiracy

    | Santa Fe, NM, USA |

    Customer: “Ugh! Everything you make here has canola oil in it. Don’t you know that’s not even food? It’s made from rapeseed, which isn’t even edible!”

    Me: “While it’s true you can’t actually eat the plant, canola oil itself is–”

    Customer: “It’s all genetically modified. You can’t get canola oil that isn’t genetically modified.”

    Me: “Actually, the canola oil we use comes from a company called Spectrum that–”

    Customer: “Spectrum!? That’s an Illuminati company!”

    Me: “Let me get my manager for you…”

    A Vanessa By Any Other Name

    | Ontario, Canada |

    (As I’m ringing an elderly lady’s groceries through, she reads my name tag incorrectly.)

    Customer: “Vanessa…Vanessa! That’s such a lovely name.”

    Me: “Oh? Yeah, it is.”

    Customer: “Vanessa! Vanessa! Vanessa! Vanessa!”

    Me: “It’s great, but I’m not–”

    Customer: “Your mother has such good taste! Van-ESSA!”

    Me: “Thank you, but–”

    Customer: “I bet, when you were young, she’d say things like ‘Vanessa! Get over here! You’re such a naughty girl!’”

    Me: “Um, something like that…”

    Customer: “Well, you have a great day Vanessa!”


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