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    Just Wait ‘Till He Meets The Dwarves In The Urinals

    | Richmond, VA, USA | Top

    Man: “Hey! I put my card in the ATM machine over there and put in my numbers, but it won’t give me any money. Does that even make any sense?”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir, the ATM is owned by that bank. You’ll have to call them.”

    Man: “Oh, you would say that!”

    Me: “If you’d like, sir, I can try to give you cash back here at my register, but I cannot access your bank information.”

    Man: “I mean, I go to my bank and I can get out money just fine, but here… it won’t even work. I mean, does that make any sense?”

    Me: “Would you like me to call my manager for you, sir?”

    Man: “Oh, you’d try to save your job, wouldn’t you!”

    (And then it gets weird…)

    Man: “Wait!” *points at ceiling* “There used to be windows there! You people boarded them up!”

    Me: “WHAT?”

    Man: “Yeah! YEAH! The guys on the computers! I bet you have them up there watching me and keeping me from getting my money!”

    Me: *laughing* “Um, sir, there are no people living in our walls. Go to your bank, and have a nice day!”

    Man: *grumbles and leaves, turning back to look at the ceiling every few steps*

    (From that point on, my co-workers who witnessed this blame everything on the ‘people in the walls’.)

    Who Needs Enemies When You Have Customers

    | Bellingham, WA, USA |

    (A customer comes storming in a few days after a sale.)

    Customer: “I want to speak to the person who sold me this!”

    Me: “Actually, I believe that was me. I remember you.”

    Customer: “No, it couldn’t have been you! The girl I spoke with had long hair!”

    (I wordlessly take my hair out of the ponytail.)

    Customer: “No, she was prettier than you are. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

    And Just Think, You’ll Meet Them In Multiplayer

    , | Long Island, New York, NY, USA |

    (So, GTA4 came out recently… it never occurred to me how many people didn’t know roman-bloody-numerals.)

    Customer: “I’d like to pre-order Grand Theft Auto Five.”

    Me: “Four.”

    Customer: “Four? No. I wanted Five. Four is old.”

    Me: “Four is the one coming out in a week or so.”

    Customer: “No it isn’t! It’s GTA Five you…” *mumbles*

    Me: “Sir. That’s GTAIV. IV is Four. V is Five.”

    Customer: “Well if you’re going to lie to me, I’m going to another store!” (…and he did.)

    (Another occasion…)

    Customer: “What is that… Grand Theft Auto Eye Vee…”

    Me: “Four.”

    Customer: “What?”

    Me: “Grand Theft Auto Four.”

    Customer: “I don’t understand.”

    Me: “It’s like the Rocky Movies.”

    Customer: “OH. Oh. I see now. Heh. Four.”

    (And finally, the big day: GTA IV was due to be released at midnight. I lost all hope for humanity when a customer came in and paid off the game, then asked…)

    Customer: “Excuse me, what’s midnight?”

    Back In My Day, Everyone Had Herpes

    | San Francisco |

    Cashier: “Hello.”

    Old Lady #1: “Stick out your tongue!”

    Cashier: “Excuse me?”

    Old Lady #1: “Stick out your tongue!”

    Cashier: “Um, why?”

    Old Lady #2: “What is that on your tongue?”

    Old Lady #1: “Is that the herpes?”

    Cashier: *sticks out tongue and points to a pink tongue piercing* “This?”

    Old Lady #1: “Yes, what is that?”

    Cashier: “A tongue piercing.”

    Old Lady #1: *looks to Old Lady #2* “Oh! We thought it was the herpes!”

    Cashier: “Uh, no. Just a pink plastic piercing.”

    Old Lady #2: “Oh good! I didn’t think they let people with STDs come to work!”

    Spontaneous Customer Combustion

    | Sandwich, MA, USA |

    Me: “Hi! Welcome to ***, how may I help you today?”

    Caller: “Do you take credit cards? My husband has a huge party coming up. I need a basket immediately, the biggest you have.”

    (I ring her up and then ask for her credit card number. I also ask for the CVV code on the back of her card. Big. Effing. Mistake.)

    Caller: “Excuse me, you want my what now?”

    Me: “Your CVV code, ma’am. The four-digit code on the back of–”

    Caller: “I KNOW what a CVV code is, d**nit! I’m not giving it to you!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but it’s company policy. I can assure you–”

    Caller: “I am NOT giving you my code! Get me your manager!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I swear, it’s policy–”

    Caller: (shrieking now) “You rotten children are just trying to ROB ME! GET ME YOUR MANAGER! NOW!”

    (I get my manager.)

    Manager: “Hello, can I help you?”

    Caller: “You’re a bunch of thieves! No one asks for a CVV code nowadays! My husband has had dealings with the LIKES OF YOU!”

    (At this point, she’s yelling so loudly that she’s audible to other employees in the room.)

    Manager: “Miss, I–”

    Caller: *does something inaudible*

    Fellow Employee: “What just happened?”

    Manager: *staring at the phone* “I think she just broke her phone.”

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