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    (Gassy) Rumblings Of Discontent

    | Gonzales, LA, USA |

    (I run an overnight shift at the store. It’s New Year’s Eve and we’ve got cars around the store when we receive a phone call.)

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

    Customer: “Yeah… I just came through your drive-thru an hour ago and bought some potato wedges.”

    Me: “Yes?”

    Customer: “Well, I got home and ate them, and now I’ve been sitting on the toilet for the past half hour because of your food.”

    Me: “Okay.”

    Customer: “So I wanna know who’s responsible for this?”

    Me: “Honestly, sir we cannot take responsibility for your stomach problems.”

    Customer: “Well, someone’s buying me a new pack of toilet paper because I’m out, and I’ll be d***ed if it’s me.”

    Me: “Sir, we cannot pay for any household products…”

    Customer: “Then why’d you sell me the wedges?!”

    Say What?

    , | Minnesota, USA |

    Cashier, to me: “Can you please help me? I have no idea what this guy is saying.

    Me: “Hi sir, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “Yeah, I wanna cup of onions and cheese.”

    Me: “Um, we don’t have that on the menu. Did you just want a side of onions?”

    Customer: “NO! I want the onions… those little things.”

    Me: “What do you mean? Did you want a burger with only onions?”

    Customer: “NO! I want onions and cheese!”

    Me: “Ok…” *I go to the back and get some onions in a cup* “Is this what you wanted?”

    Customer: “No. I want a cup of onions and cheese.”

    Me: “These are the only kind of onions we have here, sir.”

    Customer: “No. What is this?” *picks up a milk jug*

    Me: “A jug of milk…”

    Customer: “Yeah, that’s what I want! What is so hard to understand what I’m saying?”

    Me: “I don’t know… but those aren’t onions or cheese.”

    Customer: “It’s a hamburger!”

    The Dangers Of Using Fishy Logic

    | San Francisco, California | Food & Drink, Geography

    (I work at a fish and chips booth at a 19th-century London convention.)

    Customer: “Hi, I want some chips.”

    Me: “Sure, that’ll be ***. Here are your chips.”

    Customer: “No, I want chips.”

    Me: “These are chips.”

    Customer: “No, they’re french fries.”

    Me: “In England, they’re called chips.”

    Customer: “So? We’re in America.”

    Me: “You’re at a convention set in London.”

    Customer: “So?”

    Me: “So, they’re called chips in an attempt to be authentic.”

    Customer: “The f***? I’m an American and in America they’re called french fries!”

    Me: “So why aren’t they called American fries?”

    Customer: *stares blankly*

    Joseph Smith’s Great Northern Detour

    | Wellington, New Zealand |

    Drunk Customer: “You’re American! What state are you from??”

    Me: “Actually Sir, I’m from Canada.”

    Drunk Customer: “OH! The MORMON State!”

    Me: “…”

    Lowest Common Denominator: Found

    | Everly, IA, USA |

    (This exchange happened between two co-workers.)

    Waitress: “I need a fourth of a chicken to go, please.”

    Cook: “OK, a quarter chicken it is!”

    Waitress: “NO! I ASKED FOR A FOURTH!”

    Cook: “A quarter and a fourth are the same thing.”

    Waitress: “Oh…is there another word for a half?”

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