Archive for 2011

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DIY: Dental It Yourself

, | Cincinnati, OH, USA | Right | July 31, 2011

Me: “How may I help you?”

Customer: “I need a very fine grit sandpaper.”

Me: “Here you go.”

Customer: “Thanks! This will be perfect for my teeth!”

Bigot Bait

| Burleson, TX, USA | Right | July 31, 2011

(I am helping a customer when a red-faced older man walks up and slaps the counter.)

Customer: “Why does [store] have illegals working here?! This is America!”

Me: “Sir, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. If you can just calm down–”

Customer: “Don’t you tell me to calm down! I fought for this country! I didn’t fight so that a bunch Mexicans could take over our country. You need to have someone here who speaks English in [department]!”

Me: “Sir, your language and comments are offensive to me, and I would like you to not speak to me again. I will be happy to get a manager for you, though.”

Customer: “F***ing Mexican lover!”

Customer, to his companion: “Let’s get out of here! Now!”

(I walk over to the department he was referencing. However, the only person there is a customer who just happens to be wearing something similar to our uniform. She smiles at me and says, in perfect English, “I really pissed him off, didn’t I?”)

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As White As Our Sheets

| Durant, OK, USA | Right | July 30, 2011

Guest: “I think my room might be haunted.”

Me: “Excuse…me?”

Guest: “It’s haunted. Can I move to a new room?”

Me: “Um, yes. I can do that for you.”

Guest: “Could you check the new room first? Make sure there is no bad energy?”

Me: “I can try, sir…”

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The Birds, The Bees, And The Brutally Honest

| Brooklyn, NY, USA | Right | July 30, 2011

(A little boy is wandering around unattended, touching all the TVs.)

Me: “Where’s your mom or dad?”

Boy: “Well, my mom’s over there.” *points to mother*

Me: “Okay, why don’t you go over to her?”

Boy: “Yeah, sure. By the way, I don’t know who my dad is. My mom was a hooker.”

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Stealer’s Remorse

| Cambridge, MA, USA | Right | July 29, 2011

(We sell, among other things, cards for a popular trading card game. A customer walks in, walks directly to the counter, and pulls a few cards out of his pocket.)

Customer: “I’d like to purchase these, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry, purchase? Don’t you mean sell?”

Customer: “Yeah, I didn’t have the money at the time. However, I didn’t want anybody else to get them, so I just left with them. I’d like to pay for them now, thanks.”

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