Customer: “No! That perfume is 50% off!”

Me: “No, ma’am, this brand is not on sale.”

Customer: “Your adverts said everything is 50% off!”

Me: “No, ma’am, we have a sale section at the front of the store, and all those perfumes are 50% off. Everything else is the regular price!”

Customer: “That’s false advertising! Your adverts said everything in the store is 50% off!”

Me: “Can you please show me the advert that says that? If you can find one that does, I’ll honour that discount for this purchase.”

Customer: *Starts looking around* “Look! That sign there says… Well… But the sign on the front is… Okay, maybe the wording is… Look. I know I saw one! I think it was on your website! Whoever is putting adverts up on your website is making a mistake!”

I pull up the website on my phone.

Me: “You mean this site? The sale banner says, ‘50% off select items in store’.”

Customer: “You changed that just now!”

Me: “I’ve been talking to you this whole time, ma’am.”

Customer: “Give me 50% off! I’ll find the advert that said it later!”

Me: “I can give you the discount after the sale, ma’am, if you can find that advert, but I can’t wait for you to find it here. Please either purchase at full price now, or come back later with the advert.”

Customer: “I’m not moving until you give me the sale price!”

Me: “You’re holding up the line.”

Customer: “Deal with it!”

Me: “Ma’am, would you rather deal with me, or deal with the increasing number of people you’re holding up?”

She looks back and seems surprised to notice five angry-looking customers in line behind her getting increasingly impatient.

Me: “Mind you, they can walk out with you.”

She left quickly after that.

Related:
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 25
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 24
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 23
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 22
In Line And Out Of Line, Part 21

When I attended university, I did a Creative Writing degree. In my first year, we had regular sessions with a local poet who would take various classes related to poetry or verse. This wasn’t my favourite element of the program, but I still found that some of the writing exercises were interesting.

During one class, he turned his attention to music and how song lyrics themselves are considered a form of poetry. To demonstrate this, he decided to play “I Wish Was A Punk Rocker” by Sandi Thom. Admittedly, this is not the song I would’ve chosen, but still, I could see why he gravitated toward it.

At the end of the song, one student in my class — a quiet, very introverted guy — suddenly stood up looking extremely offended and clenching both fists.

Student: “Are you kidding me? Why the h*** would you choose this song as an example? SANDI THOM IS NOT MUSIC! G**D*** IT!”

Then, he proceeded to storm out of the room and slam the door, leaving his bag and belongings behind. There was a very stunned silence afterward until the poet finally spoke.

Poet: “So… moving on from that…”

We never found out why [Student] was so offended by that choice, and he never explained his outburst ever again. One of the students mentioned that he’d gone to school with [Student] previously, and he was apparently known for pulling stunts like that and getting upset about random things. I’ve never been able to listen to that song the same way since!

I work in a pub connected to a small, cosy hotel/inn. My coworkers are round the back cleaning tables outside, and I’m wiping down the counter and cleaning a couple of beer glasses.

It’s empty as we close earlier than normal pubs because ours doubles as a hotel. The “Closed” sign is on the door.

Suddenly, a lady waltzes in with her entire family with a huge grin on her face.

Customer: “A table! Get me a table so that my family can eat!”

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that as we are closing.”

I gesture around the empty and dark space to point out the obvious.

Customer: “What?! That’s stupid! It’s not even 10:00 pm yet!”

Me: “The pub doubles as a hotel, so we can’t stay open too late.”

Customer: *Starting a bit of an angry rampage* “I’m not coming here again! It’s ridiculous that you close so early!”

She has two daughters with her who look around my age (sixteen), and the looks of embarrassment and sympathy they give each other and then me are the most memorable parts of the encounter. One of them mouths, “Sorry.” At first, I think she’s mouthing it for what her mum has said, but no, it’s for what is coming next.

Customer: “So, what are you going to do for me?”

Me: “Do… for you?”

Customer: “Yes, do for me! I’m a customer in your establishment, and I need service. You’re refusing me service, and that is unacceptable, so I require some form of compensation. What are you going to do for me?”

Me: “The next town over has a twenty-four-hour service station on the way. I can give you directions?”

Customer: “Are you being pissy with me?”

Me: “I’m doing something for you. I’m giving you directions to where you can get some food.”

Customer: “You just want to get rid of us!”

Me: “Well… yeah.”

Customer: “I knew it!”

Me: “The ‘Closed’ sign on the door didn’t make it obvious?”

Customer: “I’m going to complain about this place on Google!”

Me: “That we don’t cater to late-night loud customers so as not to annoy our paying guests? Sounds like free advertising to me.”

She harrumphed and stormed out with her still-mortified-looking daughters. I hope she wrote that review.

I was once eating in a pub in London with a group of Americans. When we’d finished, the waitress asked if we’d like coffee.

Us: “We’re all set.”

Waitress: *Looking confused* “So, coffees all ’round, then? I don’t speak your language!”

In these situations, like in this story, when someone is clearly confused, you need to rephrase your statement. Repeating yourself isn’t helping. Be clear.

Related:
This Is What Happens When Sleep Deprivation Meets Christmas

I did a zombie event like this one in Glasgow, and other than an awkward moment with some confused junkies in a car park the event was a lot of fun.

I did nearly flatten a zombie at one point, though. The actor stepped in front of me when I was sprinting at my top speed, and I couldn’t stop or sidestep.

Apparently, body-slamming zombies is a viable survival strategy. Who knew?!

Related:
The Mental Imagery Alone Is Both Adorable And Terrifying