I Goes To Skool

(A girl in her late teens approaches me holding a t-shirt, turning it over in her hands, apparently searching for defects or blemishes in the material.)

Customer: “Do you have any of these that are new?”

Me: “I’m sorry? They’re all new.”

Customer: “No, this one is used. I want a new one.”

(I take the shirt and inspect it, finding it to be in perfect order.)

Me: “It looks perfectly fine to me. I unpacked these from today’s shipment an hour ago. We have multiples of each size if you’d like me to help you find another one.”

Customer: “I checked them all. They’re all used. See…”

(She snatches the shirt and points at the tag which reads, under the bar code, “USD $14.99.”)

Me: “That’s the currency. United States Dollars.”

Customer: *becoming irate* “I can f****** see that. Fifteen dollars for a used shirt is f****** insane.”

Me: “No. U-S-D. United States Dollars. We don’t sell used clothing.”

Customer: “What are you, a f****** idiot? It says used, right on the d**n tag.”

Me: “My mistake. Here, I’ll take that and make sure it gets thrown away.”

(I take the shirt and begin walking to the stock room.)

Customer: “Can I just have it? You’re going to throw it out anyway.”

Me: “Sorry, no. There’s an IQ requirement.”

Customer: “A what?”

Me: “It’s an acronym thing. Don’t worry about it.”

Customer: “You’re a f****** a**-hole!”

(She stormed out.)