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    A Bad Day To Be A Pair Of Jeans

    , | Corbin, KY, USA | Health & Body, Top, Wild & Unruly

    (It was about 5 minutes to closing on a Saturday night and we had maybe 5-6 employees working all female. A new bar had just opened next door, and a drunk man wandered in.)

    Drunk Man: “I need to buy some matches.”

    Me: “I’m sorry sir. We don’t sell matches–only clothes.”

    Drunk Man: “Well, then sell me a lighter. I need a cigarette.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t sell lighters or matches, just clothes.”

    Drunk Man: “D*mn it, just give me one.”

    Me: “I don’t have one, sir, or trust me I would.”

    Drunk Man: “You lying b**ch! Give me a f**king match you b**ch!”

    Me: “Sir, you need to leave or I’m calling the police. We don’t have lighters or matches. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you.”

    Drunk Man: “I’ll get it myself!”

    (He storms off toward the men’s department. I call my co-worker in that department, then call the manager to give them a heads up. A few minutes later the man goes running out (empty handed) and my co-worker is racing after him. She grabs my phone and starts screaming over the intercom for our manager. I asked her what happened.)

    Coworker: “He pissed all over the Levis!”

    He Wants The Internets

    , | Calgary, Alberta, Canada |

    Me: “Hey, my name is ***, what can I do for you?”

    Old Man: “My great-grandson was telling me about this really neat thing on his computer. I would like to buy it.”

    Me: “So your nephew has this ‘thing’…what does it do?”

    Old Man: “Well, he was showing me videos and we played a few puzzles. I was also able to check my lottery numbers.”

    Me: “Oh, the internet…you’re just looking to hook up the internet in your house?”

    Old Man: “Yes, I would like to buy the internet.”

    Me: “Um, well you don’t purchase the actual internet. It’s kinda like paying your phone bill. You pay them and they give you phone services.”

    Old Man: “I know how a telephone works! Would you like to make some commission on this internet sale or should I take my business elsewhere?”

    Me: “Sir, I don’t think you understand. You need to call Shaw, Telus, or Rogers and they will come hook up your internet. It’s not a physical thing.”

    Old Man: “I am writing to the Better Business Bureau and reporting this incident to your manager. I know what the internet is, WalMart has it! I’m going to take my purchase to them!”

    He Wants The Google
    She Uses The Google

    Da, Is Union of Soviet Socialist Retirees

    | Panama City Beach, FL, USA | Bigotry, Geography, Wild & Unruly

    (I work every summer in a beach shop in Florida. One morning a man had come in and bought a beach chair, and returned after a few hours with his family.)

    Customer: “I would like to return this chair.”

    Me: “Of course. Do you have a receipt?”

    Customer: “No, I just went to the beach. Why would I keep the receipt?”

    Me: “Is there a reason why you are returning the chair?”

    Customer: “It’s broken.”

    (The chair was soaked with water, coated with sand, and has a hole in the seat from what looks like a footprint on the cushion.)

    Me: “I am sorry sir, but we cannot accept used, broken items for return.”

    Customer: “What! I didn’t break it!”

    Me: “I am sorry sir, but without a receipt it still cannot be returned.”

    Customer: “Son of a b*tch! You hear that kids? This Russian b*tch is going to f*ck up our vacation!”

    Me: “…Russian? I live here.”

    Customer: “Don’t lie to me! I hear that accent.”

    Me: “…What accent?”

    Customer: “THERE! You just did it. No one talks like that in the Northeast.”

    Me: “…I’m a Southerner. You’re in the South.”

    Customer: “Whatever, you piece of racist sh*t!”

    (The man left only after he threw the chair at a clothes rack. Quite the job experience for a 15 year old.)

    Mmmm, Crunchy

    | Hastings, MN, USA |

    (I used to work in a retail store as a cashier. I would sometimes get people who would hand me empty wrappers or pop bottles saying they had eaten/drank the contents while shopping. I was used to it, and appreciated honesty. Then this….)

    Me: “Hello, how are you today?”

    Customer: “Good…”

    (The customer hands me empty a hot dog vacuum-seal wrapper thingie. THE FROZEN ONES.)

    Customer: “I ate these while I was shopping. Could you ring them up for me?”

    Me: *facepalm*

    Crap, I Got Spawn Of Gorgoroth

    | Northern California, USA |

    (I work at an store that sells teaching materials. A very heavyset guy in a wheel chair comes in. Keep in mind I was the only person in the store at the time.)

    Me: “Hello! Can I help you find anything today?”

    Him: “Yes, I’d like to get an algebra book for my nephew.”

    Me: “Okay.

    (I show him the algebra books, and we make small talk about his nephew…)

    Him: “I can see the divine light in you.”

    Me: “…”

    Him: “I went up to the mountain and Jesus burned the sins out of me. I couldn’t see anything except fire. Now I can see the divine light in people. You have it. You are pure and innocent.”

    Me: *trying not to be completely freaked out* “Huh…heh…”

    Him: “I can see it…you are immortal!”

    Me: “Okay…”

    (Later, when my boss came back and I told her about this, she laughed and told me that according to this guy she was a Demon Slayer. I felt kind of gypped.)

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