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Category: Bizarre

For whatever reason, some Customers are just plain odd. And the service industry unleashes them on to unsuspecting clerks with often hilarious results. If you like your customers just plain bizarre, then read on!

Doesn’t Have The Complete Picture

| Cleveland, OH, USA | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

(I’m an editor for a design-related publication, and received this phone call:)

Caller: “I have photos. Where do I send them to?”

Me: “What is this regarding?”

Caller: “I have photos of our new facility.”

Me: “So you’re looking to submit an article for consideration?”

Caller: “I don’t have an article, just the photos.”

Me: “Well, in order for you to pitch an article, you would need to send us the information about the facility.”

Caller: “Don’t you write the article?”

Can’t Talk Your Way Out Of That One

| Methuen, MA, USA | Bizarre, Health & Body

(I’m scanning a customer’s groceries. Everything is going normally, and then she says out of the blue:)

Customer: “Do you like my shirt?”

(It’s a shirt for a cancer awareness walk.)

Me: “Sure, it’s a nice shirt.”

Customer: “Yeah. I had cancer, you know.”

Me: “Oh, no! But you’re cancer-free now, I hope?”

Customer: “Yes. But I don’t like to talk about it.”

Me: “…Have a nice day.”

A Formless Complaint

| Wales, UK | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

(I work with the arts centre in my town. I’ve worked about seven shifts at this point, so getting to grips with things, but still a bit hesitant at times. One day in my last half an hour a tall, artfully-disheveled-looking 60-ish man enters. He charges up to the desk (and into my personal space).)

Man: *unintelligible due to the gallery’s echo*

Me: “I’m sorry; I didn’t catch that, the echo and all! Can I help?”

Man: *very condescending* “HOW… MANY… PIECES DO…” *points at me* “YOU- HAVE- IN-HERE?

Me: “Erm… I’m not exactly sure myself but I can—”

Man: “Ah, no, you’re only the help. I understand.” *under his breath* “Women.” *laughs through teeth as he charges off around the exhibition*

(15 minutes later after he’s been around the gallery.)

Me: “I hope you enjoyed the exhibition!”

Man: *smug* “Well, I counted them.”

Me: *smiling through gritted teeth* “Oh? I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you the exact—”

Man: “There’s… a lot!”

Me: “Um…okay brilliant.”

Man: “There aren’t enough people I know in these pictures. I didn’t like it. Where did this even come from?”

Me: “It’s from the Tate.”

Man: “Oh… well, still. Maybe… arrange something more interesting next time.”

Me: “I’m not actually in control of what is shown in the exhibits, but if you could fill out a visitor survey for me, I could definitely pass your suggestions up to the curator.”

(The man just stops and stares at me for an uncomfortable five seconds.)

Man: “I don’t believe in tainting art with forms.”

Me: “…”

Man: “Just… project this onto the creative directors. Okay?”

Me: *giving up* “Okay, sure. I’ll let them know.”

Man: *emphasizing* “Project.”

(He walked outs of the gallery whilst sighing under his breath.)