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    Tasteless And Pointless

    | Norfolk, UK |

    (I’m giving out free samples of Norfolk apple juice that we sell. There are several different flavors.)

    Me: “Hello, Madam. Would you like to try some of our apple juice?”

    Customer: “Oh, yes please!”

    (The lady samples each one several times, making “Mmm!” sounds.)

    Customer: “Well, I must admit they were very nice.”

    Me: “Good! Which one was your favorite?”

    Customer: “I couldn’t tell you dear, I lost my sense of taste and smell years ago.” *walks off*

    The Hole In His Logic

    | London, UK | Top

    Customer: “I’m looking for your nuts.”

    Me: “Those are on aisle four sir.”

    Customer: “I’ve already looked and I can’t find them. I’m looking for my favorites.”

    Me: “All the types of nut we have in stock are in aisle four, if you can’t find them then we don’t stock them. Do you want me to have a look for you?”

    Customer: “No no, I’ll go look again.”

    (Five minutes later, he returns.)

    Customer: “I still can’t find my favorite nuts!”

    Me: “Then I am afraid we must not stock them.”

    Customer: “But my wife gets them for me from here every week!”

    Me: “What type of nuts does she buy you?”

    Customer: “Donuts…”

    In Search Of Mrs. Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not

    | Ontario, Canada |

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

    (The customer says nothing for a few moments while blatantly staring at me.)

    Customer: “…you have two air holes.”

    Me: “…excuse me?”

    Customer: “You only have two air holes!”

    Me: “Well, yes. Two NOSTRILS, you mean.”

    Customer: *continues to stare intently at me*

    Me: “…”

    Customer: “You should have three. I have been looking all my life for someone with three nostrils, but I still haven’t found her!”

    Me: “Oh…really.”

    Customer: “Yeah! I’ve traveled the world, but no luck.”

    Me: *accepts his money and bags the item* “Well, you have fun with that!”

    Have Barcode, Will Scan

    | Toronto, Canada |

    (I am helping my friend out at the grocery store she works at, with the manager’s permission. She’s stuck a barcode from an orange on my t-shirt, and it’s refusing to come off.)

    Customer: *places three individual grapes on the conveyor belt*

    Employee friend: “Sir, where are your groceries?”

    Customer: “These are my groceries.”

    Me: “Sir, you’ve only got three grapes.”

    Customer: “Yes, those are my groceries.”

    Employee friend: “Will that be all, sir?”

    Customer: “No, how much is she?” *points to me*

    Me: “Come again?”

    Employee friend: “Sir, I’m not sure what you mean.”

    Customer: “Your friend, the one not wearing the uniform. How much does she cost?”

    Me: “Sir, I’m not for sale.”

    Customer: “Well, do you work here?”

    Me: “Well, no, not technically.”

    Customer: “Are you shopping here?”

    Me: “Um, no. But–”

    Customer: “Well, then, why are you here?”

    Me: “I’m helping my friends out.”

    Customer: “But you have a barcode sticker on you.”

    Me: “Well, yes, sir. That was a joke.”

    Customer: “Well, that’s false advertisement.”

    Employee friend: “I’m pretty sure that isn’t-”

    Customer: “I’m going to need to speak with your manager!”

    The Spite At The End Of The Tunnel

    | Virginia, USA | Top

    (I’ve had a migraine all day on the job at the grocery store. I am making a valiant effort to fake it just a little longer, when…)

    Customer: “You look too happy.”

    Me: “Well, I’m–”

    Customer: “I can fix that.”

    (The customer proceeds to pull out something from her purse and shine a very bright light in my eyes. I take several steps back in pain.)

    Customer: “There! I told you we could fix that!”

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