Me: “Hello, telephone orders.”

Customer: “Hi, I’ve just seen a bird in my back garden.”

Me: “That’s very nice, madam. Would you like to place an order?”

Customer: “It’s kind of a black and white colour, and quite large…”

Me: “Okay, madam. Did you want to place an order with us today?”

Customer: “What type of bird do you think it is? It’s very unusual.”

Me: “Erm, I’m afraid I can’t help you, madam. I’m just a call center operative.”

Customer: “But don’t you know about birds? Aren’t you the RSPB?” *Royal Society for the Protection of Birds*

Me: “No, madam. We’re just a trading company.”

Customer: “Well, my brochure says RSPB on it.”

Me: “That’s correct, but we’re a trading company. We have lots of different charity catalogues. You actually need to call the RSPB head office.”

Customer: “But it says on this catalogue that you are the RSPB. Surely you must be able to tell me what type of bird it is. It’s so pretty. Oh, oh, oh… Oh, dear, I thought it was going to fly off then. Stay, little birdy. Don’t go away. Good birdy.”

Me: “So would you like the number for the RSPB then?”

Customer: “So who are you?”

(This goes on and on and on, with intermittent monologue about what the bird is actually doing and what she’s fed it)

Me: “Hi, welcome to [Restaurant]! Can I get you something to drink?”

Elderly Customer: *pounds fists on table* “I WANT BEEF!”

Me: “O… kay… If you’re ready to order, I could get you our [Roast Beef Entree]?”

Elderly Customer: “I don’t care. I just want beef!”

Me: “Okay…” *sighs*

(We close at 7:00 pm every Sunday. A couple is still shopping in my department at 7:13 pm and we already had a call from security to tell them to get out)

Me: “Ma’am, just to let you know we’re already closed. If you need to buy something please bring it to the counter now.”

Customer: “Closed? What time do you guys close? It’s only 7:13!”

Me: “We closed at 7:00.”

Customer: “Honey, hurry up. They’re about to close. Who’s ever heard of a store that closes at 7:13 pm. That’s just so weird!”

Me: “Ma’am, we closed 13 minutes ago; we’ve been closing at 7:00 for at least the past six years I’ve been here, and there’s nothing weird about that.”

Customer: “Well, I just thought that it would make more sense if you guys closed on an hour. Or at least least have an announcement if you guys are closing at some queer hour.”

Me: “Ma’am, there were four announcements, loud and clear, before we closed.”

Customer: “But why would you close a store at 7:13? That’s just queer. Are you sure the store is even closed?”

Me: “Again, ma’am, we closed 13 minutes ago at 7:00, and yes I’m sure the store is closed. Why would I be lying?”

Customer: “I don’t know. *her boyfriend comes out of the fitting room* “Honey, c’mon, let’s buy this stuff and get out of here. Can you believe they close the store at 7:20? Isn’t that just so weird?”

Me: “SEVEN! We CLOSED at SEVEN o’clock!”

Me: “Emergency veterinary clinic, how can I help you?”

Caller: *worried female voice* “My dog has a red thing on him.”

Me: “Is it actively bleeding?”

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Where is it located?”

Caller: “On his tummy.”

Me: “Can you describe it to me? How large is it? Does it look more like a cut, a rash, or an abrasion?”

Caller: “It looks like a little stick of lipstick.”

Me: “That’s his penis.”

Caller: *hangs up*

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Me: “And how would you like to pay for that today?”

Customer: “Debit.”

Me: “Okay, the stripe faces me.”

(She swipes card with the stripe facing her; tries again)

Customer: “Sh*t. Sh*t!!”

(The register times out)

Me: “Hold on; okay, try again. Stripe goes toward me.”

(She finally swipes the card successfully)

Customer: “Where’s the ‘OK’ button?” *pushes the green sticker below the ‘OK’ button*

Me: “It’s the green button.”

(She figures out how to press the button, but then incorrectly types her pin number)

Customer: “Oh God! Oh God, oh my God! SH*T!”