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Category: Rude & Risque

For those who like their humor a bit more PG-13, this section is littered with customers who are not afraid to walk on the more brazen side, or act downright gross-out disgusting. Be warned though that toilet humor sometimes literally takes place in the toilet.

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A Care(less) Package

| Boston, MA, USA | Crazy Requests, Rude & Risque

(I work at a liquor store in downtown Boston. We are surrounded by hotels and high-end apartments and condos, as well as night-life, and get a lot of business Friday and Saturday nights. This Friday evening, I am with the owner and the assistant manager when two twenty-something couples come in, obviously starting a night on the town. They browsed the “nips” case for a few minutes and everyone makes a selection. I ring them up and one of the guys, before we can react, pulls his bottle out of the bag, opens it, and starts to knock it back. The boss, the assistant, and I basically all shouted “STOP!” as one.)

Guy: “Why?”

Boss: “This is a PACKAGE store. The PACKAGE has to leave the store SEALED.”

Guy: “Why CAN’T I drink it here?! You SELL it here…!”

Me: “Yeah, and they sell condoms at [Drugstore Chain], but you’re still not allowed to use them in the aisles!”

(His friends (including his date, which made it doubly satisfying!) totally lost it as he turned bright red and slunk out of the store.)

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Whatever Boris Is Into Is None Of Our Business

| ME, USA | Funny Names, Rude & Risque, Technology

(We have a patron who frequently asks the library staff to check the spelling on various words or phrases that she’s searching for online. She never accepts that she just spelled it wrong in the first place, but insists that Google it intentionally messing things up for her.)

Patron: “Can you look up the correct spelling for the Northern Lights?”

Me: “Sure. It’s N-O-R-T-H—”

Patron: “No, I mean the real name for them, ‘Aura’ something.”

Me: “Ah, Aurora Borealis.”

Patron: “Yes, but when I typed it in Google kept messing up and showing me dirty stuff! Can you write down the right spelling?”

(She handed me a slip of paper to write on. On it, she’d already written “AREOLA BORIS”.)

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Children Act Off-The-Cuff

| Iowa City, IA, USA | At The Checkout, Family & Kids, Rude & Risque

(I am working as a cashier at a bookstore when a customer approaches me to pay for her items. Her son is touching everything and messing up all of the nearby display, and doesn’t listen when she tells him to keep his hands to himself.)

Customer: *finally growing frustrated* “Don’t make me put your cuffs on!”

(Her son immediately calms down and starts behaving himself. I think I must have misheard what she said, but I can’t help but notice something round and furry sticking out from her purse. Later, I’m talking with a coworker.)

Coworker: “Did you see that woman earlier who had her kid in fuzzy fetish handcuffs?”

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Sex Sells The News

| USA | Language & Words, Rude & Risque

(I work at a local newspaper. A man comes in to discuss the online membership for the local news website I have built. He starts innocently enough by asking for the URL – some people are too scared to try a business name with a .com after it, so this is a common question.)

Me: “It’s WWW dot [City Name] news dot com.”

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Me: “[City Name] news dot com.”

Customer: “One more time?”

Me: “[City Name].”

Customer: “I got that.”

Me: “…news. Dot com.”

Customer: “Are you saying…” *he leans in to whisper* “Nudes? Like an adult website?”

Me: *holding up that morning’s paper, and pointing to the URL near the top of the front page* “NEWS. Do you recall walking into the building for the NEWS paper. We are [City Name] NEWS, so we own the website of the same name.”

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Customers Will Always Find Something To Moan About

| USA | Rude & Risque

(It’s very early in the morning, and I’m having a mild allergic reaction. It causes my face to break out into a very, very itchy rash. Luckily, I have some antihistamines, which I take, but they are not powerful enough to stop the severe itchiness. Scratching it makes it even itchier, so I go to get some ice from the employee freezer and apply it to the rash. This helps, and no one has arrived yet, so I can’t help letting out a moan of relief.)

Me: *applying ice* “Ooh, yeah. Ohhh, yeahhhhh. Ahhhhh!”

(Unknown to me, a customer comes in, hears me, and walks out. The next day, my manager calls me over.)

Manager: “We got a complaint saying that there was no one at the front desk and there were loud moans coming from the back office.”

Me: *explains*

Manager: *looks at my obvious facial rash* “Ooh. I believe you… The customers said that she heard someone having sex in the back office, so I was a little concerned…”

(So I guess moans equals sex now. Nice to know where her head was!)

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