He’s Never Finn-ished

(A customer is buying a few items. Due to a misunderstanding that isn’t in any way my fault he almost ends up buying the wrong model of a popular phone. I apologize nonetheless and the matter is resolved. Since the misunderstanding he’s had a chip on his shoulder. He is watching me very closely and trying to catch me making a mistake. To his disgruntlement everything goes smoothly.)

Me: “…and there you go. Have a pleasant day.”

Customer: “Hmph… Boy, let me ask you a question. Where are you from?”

Me: “Helsinki.”

Customer: “No, no, no… I mean originally?”

Me: “Helsinki.”

Customer: “Stop being a smart a**! What country are you or your parents originally from?!”

(I’m a bit baffled by this question since I’m blond, have blue eyes, and a light skin. I look pretty much your stereotypical Finn.)

Me: “Finland… Um, what are you trying to ask exactly.”

Customer: “Look here, brat, stop playing this game with me! I know you immigrants like to think of yourselves as Finns, but you are not and never will be. Stop dodging my question and answer me! Where is your family from?!”

Me: “Sir, please calm yourself. I am not playing games. As far as I know my family has always lived in Finland. What makes you doubt—”

Customer: “Impossible! That just can’t be true.”

Me: “Well, sure if you are talking about the dawn of humanity; then everyone is from Africa, I guess. But my grandfather was actually a genealogy enthusiast, and he found out that our family has been living in Finland at least since the 17th century. That is pretty much as early as is possible to find any written records from Finland.”

Customer: “No, you are lying!”

Me: “Okay, look at me then. Where do you think I am from?”

Customer: “That is not for me to know but for you to tell me! I am a customer!”

(A coworker is standing at another counter with his back to us. He is of Chinese descent but was born in Finland. Only the back of his head is visible to us and he has dyed his hair blonde. He hasn´t heard my conversation with the customer.)

Customer: *shouting to my coworker* “Hey! You! Clerk over there!”

(My coworker turns to us a little surprised because of the shouting. The customer frowns as he sees my coworkers face.)

Customer: *mumbling to himself* “… Oh, god, another one.”

Coworker: “Yes, sir, can I help you?”

Customer: *pointing at me* “What country is this boy from?”

Coworker: “Umm… Finland.”

Customer: “NO! You lying son of a… Where are YOU from?!”

Coworker: “Born and raised in Helsinki.”

(The customer screams incoherently and slams his hand on the counter.)

Customer: “You are all liars, thieves, and tax dodging lazy immigrants who should never have been let into this country! I am reporting you to the consumer authority and immigration officials! This will not stand, mark my words!”

(He storms off.)

Coworker: “What was that about?”

Me: “I have absolutely no idea. A hidden camera show or an episode of The Twilight Zone are the only explanations I can think of.”

(Luckily we never heard from him again.)