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    The Birds And The Bees Talk, Illustrated

    , | Belgium | Top

    Customer: “Hi, I’d like a Playboy for my son.”

    Me: “…excuse me?”

    Customer: “You know, a Playboy to play with.”

    Me: *trying very hard not to laugh* “You mean a Gameboy?”

    Customer: “Yeah that!”

    Customer: *realizes what she said* “OH!”

    Low Class, High Class, Still An Ass

    | Toronto, ON, Canada |

    (A customer is sitting in front of a display, reading a book.)

    Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t sit in front of our displays.”

    Customer: “I have to sit here because the customers over there are sending me bad energy.”

    Coworker: “Uh, okay…”

    (Coworker walks over to me.)

    Coworker: “Your turn.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t sit in front of our displays.”

    Customer: “I’m not low class you know!”

    (I walk away stunned. After awhile, the customer finally gets up and walks toward the cashier.)

    Customer: “I have a complaint about two of your staff members. They called me low class. I’m not low class–I’m almost forty!”

    Caught Red-Handed

    | Colorado, USA | Top

    Guest: “I’d like to return this toaster.”

    Me: “Okay ma’am, do you have a receipt for the purchase dated within 90 days?”

    Guest: “No.”

    Me: “Okay, well you can’t return it then. However, if you have an ID you can exchange it for an item of equal or lesser value from the same department.”

    Guest: “But I don’t want to exchange it. I want my money.”

    Me: “Well, I’m sorry but if you don’t have a receipt, you can’t return the item.”

    Guest: “[Other store name] would take it back!”

    Another guest in line: “Excuse me, I work there and, no we wouldn’t!”

    …And You’re Still Drunk Now

    | ACT, Australia |

    Scary old lady: “You b*stards better give me a refund!”

    Me: “Er…okay. What seems to be the problem?”

    Scary old lady: “I was drunk when I bought this! GIVE ME A F&*^%NG REFUND!”

    Me: *blink blink*

    How Nicknames Are Born

    | Tampa, FL, USA |

    (An intensely inebriated individual entered our store with two women in tow, one pushing a baby carriage, wearing a jordan jersey, sunglasses, and sporting gold fronts.)

    Customer: “CRACKAS STINK! THIS STORE STINKS! CRACKA STORE STINKS!”

    Me: *falls over laughing*

    Customer: “GOOD LORD IT STINKS! SHE GOT PURPLE HAIR, I BET IT STINKS!”

    Women with him: “Shut up! Shut up! I’m sorry, he doesn’t–SHUT UP! ”

    Me: *rolls around with glee*

    Customer: “STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”

    (And from then on I am known as stinky hair.)

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