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    Pyromaniac In Aisle 11

    , | Orange County, FL, USA |

    Customer: “What the f**k, you shortchanged me!”

    Me: “Ma’am, I gave you the exact amount of change that is on the receipt.”


    Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I will go get a manager for you right away.”


    (At this point the customer began to storm down the aisles. She lit a cigarette and began setting merchandise on fire. Afterwards she ran from the store because she realized that she had in fact had gotten the right amount of change!)

    This Job May Involve Occasional Groping

    | Atlanta, GA, USA |

    (A VERY high customer approaches me.)

    Customer: “I NEED A WATCH!”

    Me: “Alright…did you have anything in mind?”

    Customer: “Not too expensive, with a leather band, and it has to match theeeessseee.” *points to his brown leather bracelets*

    Me: “Okay, what about something like this?” *holds up watch*

    Customer: “NO THIS ONE!”

    (He points to a VERY expensive watch with a black metal band that meets NONE of his above mentioned requirements.)

    Me: “Well, that watch is rather expensive…”

    Customer: “NOT TOO EXPENSIVE!”

    Me: “Okaaay…what about these?” *points to customizable watches*

    Customer: “I like those two! I like them because they’re round.” *one of the watch faces is, in fact, square*

    Me: “…”

    (Customer now attempts to answer his ringing phone, accidentally drops it, and while attempting to pick it up, falls onto my male boss. He groggily apologizes, then staggers out of the store to take the call, leaving behind his purchase from another store.)

    Boss: “Is that guy high?”

    Me: “As a kite.”

    Boss: “Oh, okay. Because he just groped me.”

    Me: *dies laughing*

    (Customer now returns, accompanied by a friend. Customer continues to be stupid, while friend tries to shoplift. After all this has gone on, customer and friend go to talk to Boss.)

    Them: “So are you guys hiring?”

    Boss: “Am I hiring druggies or shoplifters? NO.”

    All [Retail Slaves] Look Same

    , | Washington, USA |

    (I fix registers and self-checkout equipment at said store. I wear a badge, it states which company I work for and has a picture of me on it. It looks nothing like the name badges the store uses but everyone asks me if I work there or if I can help them. I always answer politely that I don’t and point them in the direction of someone who does. But this time…)

    Me: *walking to back of store to fiddle with a printer that was acting up*

    Lady: “Can you help us with picking a TV?”

    Me: *Looks around* “Me?”

    Lady’s Boyfriend: “Yes you, we need some help here.”

    Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t work here.”

    Lady: “Look, I just want to know about some of the features.”

    Me: *dumbfounded* “Like I said, I don’t work here.”

    Lady’s Boyfriend: “Un-f***ing-believable…I guess this is what minimum wage pays for these days.”

    Me: *snorts and starts to walk away*

    Lady: “Well who the f*** is supposed to help us now?”

    Me: “Maybe you should try asking someone with ***-**** written on their name tag, I’m sure they’d be glad to help you out seeing as they WORK here.”

    Lady’s Boyfriend: “This is shoddy customer service! We want to speak to your manager right now!”

    Me: *shakes head and walks off*

    Lady & Boyfriend: *insert string of obscenities here*

    (I saw them 10 minutes later as I was leaving the store, they were complaining to a department manager. I’m sure they were trying to describe me because he had a very confused look on his face. Poor guy.)

    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!”

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