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  • A Caffeinated Christmas Miracle
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  • Even The Batcave Has A Woman’s Restroom

    | Gainesville, FL, USA | Bizarre, Theme Of The Month

    (I’m the customer in this story. I am with my girlfriend and her sister checking out one of the many Halloween stores that just opened up. I have purple and blue hair, a snapback on, facial piercings, and my arm was around my girlfriend’s shoulders. An older woman approaches me.)

    Woman: *says something I don’t catch*

    Me: “I’m sorry?”

    Woman: “Women’s restroom?”

    Me: “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t work here.”

    Woman: *walks off*

    (I didn’t realize until she left that she must have thought that the fact that I was wearing a lanyard meant I was working. It was a Batman lanyard with my girlfriend’s car keys on it.)

    Must Have Just Come From The Dark Side Of The Moon

    | CA, USA | Extra Stupid, Theme Of The Month

    (I am a customer in a store known for employees wearing uniforms of tan khakis and red polo shirts. I am shopping for just a birthday card when another customer comes up to me.)

    Customer: “You! CLEARLY you are a manager here. I’m trying to find some printer paper. Can you help me?”

    Me: *looks down at my blue jeans and Pink Floyd t-shirt* “Uh, actually I don’t work here, so I can’t help you.”

    Customer: *gives me a blank stare*

    Me: “I’m just looking for a card for my mother?” *shows him the cards I’m holding in my hand*

    Customer: “Oh! That’s why you don’t have a shopping cart, because you don’t need one for something small like that!”

    Me: “…yeah. Good luck finding what you need.”

    (Don’t know why no shopping cart + rock band shirt = manager in his mind).

    Driving 100 km In Another Man’s Shoes

    | Roermond, The Netherlands | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

    (I work at the customer service desk in a big outdoor/camping store. One of my jobs is to handle returns. Today, a guy comes in. I greet him.)

    Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

    Customer: “Yeah, hi. I bought shoes here a while ago and they’re damaged. I want new ones.”

    Me: “All right. Did you bring the shoes with you? I would like to take a look.”

    (The customer nods and bends down. I know what is about to happen and so does my coworker. I can tell she’s about to laugh and she walks away to make sure the customer doesn’t see her. He takes one shoe off his foot and put it on the desk. It’s smelly and feels warm.)

    Customer: “There, you see? It’s damaged!”

    (I ask to see his receipt and look up the procedure for this particular brand of shoes. As it turns out, I can’t give him new shoes, but instead, I have to send his shoes in for repair.)

    Customer: “But how am I supposed to do that? I can’t go home without having shoes on! I need you to give me new shoes and I want a refund for the money I spent on gas! I drove over 100 km to get here!”

    (At this point, I notice his t-shirt. It’s a shirt from a local amateur soccer championship in a town very near to where we are. 12 kilometers, tops.)

    Me: “No, sir, I am afraid I can’t do that. I would love to send your shoes in for you. It’s no problem if you decide to come in another time. The procedures won’t change.”

    (The customer then, angrily, took his shoe back, grunted and moaned, and hopped away on one leg.)

    Differing Degrees Of Snobbery

    | Memphis, TN, USA | At The Checkout, Extra Stupid, School

    (I’m a cashier at a small, high-end grocery store. One day, towards the end of my shift, a middle aged man and a girl, around 11 or 12, walk up. Note that I appear around five years younger than I actually am and took the cashier job out of necessity.)

    Me: “That’ll be $25.62, sir.”

    Customer: *ignoring the other customers waiting behind him* “Are you in school?”

    Me: “I… excuse me?”

    Customer: “Are. You. In. School?”

    Me: “Well, no, I already—”

    Customer: *talking to the girl* “See, this is why you gotta study hard! I don’t want you working some crap job because you didn’t go to college.”

    Me: “Um, sir? That’ll be $25.62.”

    Customer: *slams $30 into my hand*

    (I get his change and hand it to him along with his receipt. As the next person in line starts putting their items onto the counter, he stands in place and starts counting his change.)

    Customer: “You shorted me.”

    Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. How much did I give you?”

    Customer: “This is why you have to work a crap job like this! Because you can’t even count right!”

    Me: “Sir, I need to see how much I gave you so I can give you the right amount.”

    Customer: “You gave me $4.38.”

    Me: “…that’s right. It should be on your receipt.”

    Customer: “No, I need a five.”

    (I print out another copy of his receipt and show him that his change was correct. He stands there and argues with me, so I call over the manager to talk to him. The conversation takes a while, so when my next customers are done, I stroll over.)

    Manager: “I don’t know how else to tell you… that IS the amount you’re owed.”

    Customer: “No, it’s basic math! Can’t anyone here do basic math?”

    Me: “Here.” *I pull out my phone and show him on its calculator* “It all adds up to $30.”

    Customer: “What do you know?! You didn’t even go to school!”

    Manager: “I thought you went to [Well Known Private College]?”

    Me: “I did. I have a bachelor’s from there.”

    Customer: *stunned* “What? How? You’re a kid.”

    Me: “I’m 25, sir.”

    Customer: “Why didn’t you say so! I guess it’s okay, then.”

    (He and the girl finally exit.)

    Manager: “…that’s the kind of man who gives his credit card number to a prince of Nigeria.”

    God Loves Little Girls Who Stand Up For Others

    | Denver, CO, USA | At The Checkout, Bigotry, Family & Kids

    (I’m a manager at a technology store and a lesbian. There are two men holding hands and giving each other little kisses every now and then, a woman who is trying her hardest not to look at them, and a mother and her five- or six-year-old daughter, all waiting in line. The two men get to the register.)

    Man #1: “Hi, we were wondering if you do wedding registry here?”

    Me: “No, sorry, we don’t. But my wife and I found when we were doing our wedding registry stuff that if you find a shop that doesn’t do a registry, just write down the SKU numbers so people can come in and—”

    Woman: “Come on, none of us have time to be dealing with your little gay pride bulls***! None of you should be getting married anyway. It’s a sin!”

    (I start to open my mouth, but the little girl stomps her foot and gives the woman the meanest look I have ever seen.)

    Little Girl: “That’s not nice! You say you’re sorry, right now!”

    (The woman is taken aback, but is not done with her rant.)

    Woman: “I will not apologize to sinners! What they are doing is wrong! God hates people like—”

    Little Girl: “No! Girls can like girls and boys can like boys. If God wanted boys and girls only to like each other then he would have made them only like each other! And don’t you know God loves everyone, even boys who like boys?!”

    (The woman and the little girl look at each other for a good 10 seconds until the woman drops her items on the floor and storms out. The mother, the gay couple, and I are all speechless. Like a total boss the little girl takes the expensive robotic toy from her mother and walks to the counter.)

    Little Girl: “I want this, please!”

    Man #2: “My soon to be husband and I would like to pay for that.”

    Me: “And wouldn’t you know it, we give 50% discounts to amazing little girls here!”

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