I see a customer looking around.
Me: “Do just let me know if you have any questions.”
Customer: *With a big grin and silly voice* “Where do babies come from?”
Cue externally laughing, internally screaming.
This story reminds me of a time I attempted a joke with a customer.
I was sixteen, working as a cashier at a computer store. A man came through my line with a T-shirt that read, “One by one, the penguins steal my sanity.” He was in a good mood, so I decided to play along. I pointed at his shirt, gasped, and spoke in what I thought was clearly a joking tone.
Me: “The same thing happened to me! But no one believes me except for my friend deep inside the earth!”
The man’s eyes went wide, and he backed up a couple of steps. I immediately realized my mistake and dropped the act.
Me: “Sir, I’m sorry. I was just going along with the joke on your shirt.”
The man looked down at his shirt and started laughing.
Customer: “Oh, my gosh, I forgot I wore this today!”
And that is how I learned to let customers start joking interactions first, not the other way around.
Related:
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 8
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 7
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 6
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 5
Never Joke With The Customers… Ever!, Part 4
My fiancé and I work from home in different parts of the house, but we often start our nightly bathroom routine at the same time. We are quite fond of joking with each other, being older millennials.
One day, he finishes flossing his teeth ahead of me, so he starts flossing — the dance. I’m still doing my dental routine, but I attempt the same dance. My back pops loudly when I swing my hips quickly.
Fiancé: *Paling* “Are you okay?”
Me: “Yes, it’s perfectly normal. It just means I haven’t bent that way recently, so my hips will pop.”
He is relieved, but he’s a jokester.
Fiancé: “Well, thank goodness, but you gotta warn a guy before you start popping while flossing!”
He’s very proud of that one.
My family members all live in different states. I live in Pennsylvania, my sister is in Kentucky, and my parents spend most of the year in Florida and come up to Pennsylvania in the summer. Most of our communication with my sister’s kids is over the phone.
My mom is having a very hard time bonding with my four-year-old niece. Since I’m currently my niece’s best friend and we spend hours each night talking on the phone or FaceTime, I decide to tell my mom what initially got [Niece] to warm up to me. (This is partly to get her to bond with my mom and also so I can get some of my evenings back.)
Me: “Have you ever heard of Funko Pop?”
Mom: “Not really.”
Me: “They’re these stupid little collectible figurines for celebrities or characters from media. I had a few Disney ones just for particular favorite characters like Merida. One day, [Niece] wanted me to show her my apartment, and she saw it. She was really excited, so I got a few more, and now every time she calls, she wants to see my princesses.”
Mom: “And that’s why she started to want to call you?”
Me: “Yeah. I mean, no offense, but a boring adult with nothing that she’s interested in. Get a few, and she’ll like to see them.”
I decide to send my mom two “Encanto” figures, figuring it can be her starter pack, as [Niece] is obsessed with “Encanto”. My mom is beyond excited to try and bond with [Niece].
Tonight, I get my regular call from [Niece], and she asks to see my figures.
Niece: “Pap showed me that he has princesses, too!”
Me: “Did Nana show you, too?”
Niece: “No!”
Interesting.
As soon as we hang up, I call my parents.
Mom: “Hey, what’s up?”
Me: “Were you aware that [Niece] was already shown the Encanto figures?”
Mom: “That rat b*****d. He knew that was supposed to be my ticket in!”
She confronted my dad on the phone with me, and we thoroughly ganged up on him. I’m planning to send more Pops down with instructions to hide them so he can’t steal her thunder again as [Niece] already likes my dad.
I was a fifty-five-year-old lady delivery driver. I had been doing it for four years or so at the time. This happened over ten years ago, so some of the particulars are a bit fuzzy, but I clearly remember that it was a horrible night — probably the worst night I had ever had.
The teenagers making pizzas were messing up. We were shorthanded. Addresses and phone numbers were wrong. I had to do a couple of redeliveries due to the wrong pizza toppings. The phone kept ringing, and no one was answering, so I had to delay delivering to answer the phone. It was busy, and they had trouble keeping up. It was just a truly bad night.
It was getting close to closing, and I had one delivery left. I was so looking forward to going home and chilling, and I was ready to forget that night.
There were three or four pizzas on the order, and it was going to an address I had never been to before. I hate new customers; you never know how nice or s***ty they might be. I got to the house in less than four minutes; thankfully, it was close to the shop. There were a bunch of cars in the driveway and parked in front of the house. Cool, party!
I went into the open garage since that’s where the party was. I put on my customer service smile, and then I heard:
Voice: “HEY! [MY NAME]! How you doing?”
OMFG! I recognized Mr. Favorite Regular, and he was waving me over with a beer in his hand.
Mr. Favorite Regular: “Hey, everyone, this is [My Name], the best driver from [Pizza Place]! -Here, have a beer!”
Now, this was not the first beer I had been offered when delivering, but it was the first beer I ever accepted. I got to meet Mr. Favorite Regular’s brother and all their friends and family, and all of them welcomed me like my butt was made of gold. I guzzled that beer like a man lost in the desert for three days guzzles water. There was joking, hugging, and backslapping, another beer appeared in my hand, and there was lots and lots of laughter.
It was absolutely FUN-DERFUL, but alas, I had to get back to the shop, and I was worried I might get stopped by our local officers with beer on my breath, so I said my goodbyes, hugged Mr. Favorite Regular and some of my new friends, and headed back to my car.
I had parked on the side of the street in front of the driveway, but my car was GONE! Oh, s***! I had left the keys in the car, and some suckface had stolen it!
Then, I looked back toward the party, and they were all standing in front of the garage laughing their a**es off!
Why? Someone had snuck out of the party and moved my car a block down the road. These f***ers thought they were hilarious.
And they were right! I laughed my golden a** off all the way to my car as I gave them the double bird they so richly deserved.
Best. Night. Ever!
