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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.

Maybe They Were Cream-Filled?

| OH, USA | Food & Drink, Rude & Risque

(We are having yard sale at our house, where I am selling all kinds of things including chocolate molds for making different types of chocolate candies. A very nice and friendly elderly lady approaches me to chat about them.)

Lady: “You know, I used to have to buy chocolate by the 100 lb. bag because I made and sold so much candy.”

Me: “Wow, sounds like you were pretty busy with it!”

Lady: “Oh, yes, I had a room in my home dedicated to it. Most of my customers were my coworkers at [Local Plant].”

Me: “How nice.”

(I’m trying to be polite but I’ve got to be available for others to ask questions or make purchases.)

Lady: “I used to make chocolate penises.”

Me: “How ni— Wait, what?”

Lady: “Penises. I made a birthday cake covered with chocolate penises for a coworker. It said, ‘here’s the beef!’ Ha! Penises! Can you imagine?”

Should Have Eaten Fear For Breakfast

| Portsmouth, VA, USA | Bizarre, Food & Drink, Rude & Risque

(An older male patron has started insisting that I (a young female) offer to buy him lunch earlier in the week. Every following day he would whisper a reminder in the form of a food order as he passed the reference desk.)

Me: “Good afternoon, sir”

Patron: “Chicken salad… Chicken Salad.”

Me: *nods head, a little creeped out*

(A patron walks past a few hours later to leave.)

Patron: *intensely whispers* “Two hotdogs from Dairy Queen.”

(They say nothing else. Later, I turn to my coworker:)

Me: “Why is it always me?”

Coworker: “They smell the fear… or your lunch.”

The Girl Who Played With Hellfire

| Stockholm, Sweden | Books & Reading, Religion, Rude & Risque

(I’m the customer in this story. I’m a tourist in Stockholm looking for a book for my boyfriend at the time, who is learning Swedish. I don’t speak a word of it. I see a bookstore and just wander in.)

Me: “Hi there. I’m looking for a Swedish book that has something to do with crime. Could you help me with that?”

Clerk: *looks at me dumbfounded* “Uhm. What was that?”

Me: “You know. Something thrilling and exciting ?”

Clerk: “You do realise this is a Catholic book store and we only carry books on religion, right?”