Never Again

| Queens, NY, USA | Awesome Customers, History, Top

(I often go to a diner near my apartment that’s popular with bikers, who are as a rule, very courteous customers. However, the number of motorcycles out front often attracts a crowd of what the regulars call ‘wannabes’. These are people with new motorcycles and flashy tattoos that just want to show off.)

Customer #1: *showing his friends his arm* “Look at this tat, man. Knife through the heart, and then through an eye. I wanted to show that I’m tough and all, but I wanted something new, so I asked him to add the eyeball.”

Customer #2: “I got an eye, too. It’s on the palm of my hand. Like the monster from that maze movie.”

Customer #3: “Aw, man. I could never get anything on my hand. That’s gotta hurt like s***.”

Regular: *to himself* “P***y.”

(Unfortunately, the three overhear. They jump up and surround the man.)

Customer #2: “What, you think you’re so tough? You think your tats are so bada** , huh?”

(This particular customer is in fact ‘so tough’. He looks old, but he’s a retired police officer.)

Regular: “At least my tattoos have some kind of meaning to them.” *rolling up his sleeve, pointing to tattoos* “Dead kid. Took a gang off the street. Arson.”

Customer #1: “You murdered a kid?!”

Regular: “Nope. Showed up when somebody else did.” *rolling up his other sleeve to reveal a badge tattoo* “Because of this.”

(Realizing he’s a former policeman, the wannabe customers recoil.)

Customer #3: “Pig!”

Regular: “If I still had my nightstick I’d—”

(Suddenly, the owner’s elder mother appears.)

Elderly Mother: “Ruhe!” *all four turn to stare at her* “Well, that’s what they used to say to us if we made a fuss about our tattoos, you know.”

Customer #2: “You got a tattoo, lady? What is it, a ball of yarn?”

(With that, the mother rolls up her sleeve to reveal a concentration camp tattoo.)

Elderly Mother: “No, just a number.”

Customer #1: “What does that even—”

(Customer #2 suddenly realizes what the tattoo means. He immediately drops some cash on the table, grabs his wannabe friends, and heads out the door at a breakneck pace. The regular? He sits there for about ten minutes staring at his own tattoos, before finally finishing his food and leaving… but not before leaving behind a hundred dollar tip.)

Weekly Roundup: Black Friday & The Holidays

Not Always Right | Roundups

Black Friday & The Holidays! This week, we feature five stories about every employee’s nightmare (at least in the U.S.): Black Friday and the winter holiday shopping season!

  1. Ask And Ye Shall Receive (5,285 Thumbs Up)
    Customer wants to pay for an empty display box? CUSTOMER GETS EMPTY DISPLAY BOX!
  2. Overlord PX53A-Z Is Not Pleased (4,261 Thumbs Up)
    Ever since the Robot Rebellions of 2025, customer service hasn’t been the same.
  3. Rated I For Immature (1,198 Thumbs Up)
    An impatient video game customer gets a lesson on maturity!
  4. Not Quite As Provocative As I Recall (1,225 Thumbs Up)
    Wanna silence a chaotic Black Friday crowd? Just ask for a Totally Inappropriate Elmo.
  5. Because Everything On The Internets Is Private (2,931 Thumbs Up)
    Asking what’s on sale on Black Friday is like… asking what’s on sale on Black Friday!

PS #1: check out our new Extras section, with pictures, videos, and news galore!

PS #2: Read more roundups here!

The Situation Is Escalating

| Salt Lake City, UT, USA | Bizarre, Extra Stupid

(Our down escalator is stopped for repairs, but customers are free to walk down it. There is also a clearly marked elevator near me as well as a staircase.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss, do you work here?”

Me: “Yes. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Your escalator has stopped.”

Me: “I am sorry about that. It should be fixed soon.”

Customer: “So, am I stuck up here?”

Me: “…Sorry?”

Customer: “Do I have to wait here until it is fixed?”

Me: “Of course not. You can go anytime. We won’t hold you hostage.”

Customer: “But the escalator is broken.”

Me: “Yes, and we are sorry for the inconvenience.”

Customer: “How do I get down stairs?”

(At this point, we can both clearly see other customers walking down the broken escalator.)

Me: “Well, you are allowed to walk down the escalator, but if you feel uncomfortable with that, you can take the elevator or stairs behind me.”

Customer: “Well, when do you think it will be fixed?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. They don’t tell us that much about what is happening in the store.”

Customer: “I want to see a manager!”

Me: “Let me call one down for you.”

Customer: “What is your name?!”

(My coworkers have come to watch, and are trying not to laugh. Other customers have begun to laugh.)

Me: “My name is [name].”

(I call the manager, she comes down, and tells the customer the same thing I said.)

Customer: “Well, this place is trash!”

(Believe it or not, she found a chair and sat there for an hour until the escalator was fixed!)

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Trying To Inspire Change

| Europe | Money

(At our gas station, you can either fill first and pay with cash inside, or use a credit card at the pumps. A customer stomps into the station and glares at me.)

Me: “Hi!”

Customer: *glaring continues*

(I assume he is there to pay for his gas. It happens all the time that the customers expect me to know this without them saying anything.)

Me: “How can I help you today?”

Customer: *still glaring*

Me: “Alright, pump 5, is it? That will be $23.50, please.”

(The customer sighs loudly, whips out his wallet, and begins to furiously go through his cash. He then throws a 20 at me before finally speaking.)

Customer: “Well, I don’t have that much!”

Me: “Oh, do you happen to have a credit card perhaps?”

Customer: “NO!”

(For a few seconds we stand there staring at one another. I can tell that this situation won’t get any better.)

Me: “…You know what, I’ll just pay the rest for you.”

Customer: *turns and stomps out in a huff*

Me: “YOU ARE VERY WELCOME, SIR!”

The Fringes Of Sanity

| London, England, UK | Bizarre

(I am shaving my head in public for charity at a school fair. Because my hair is too long to shave straight off, anyone at the fair can pay £1 to chop a chunk of my hair off, putting said hair in a bucket afterwards. A man walks into the fair, sees my stall, and makes a beeline for it.)

Me: “Hello! I’m raising money for charity. Would you like to cut a lump of my hair off for £1? It’s all being shaved at 9pm.”

Man: *smiles, says nothing, and puts £1 on the table*

Me: “Great, here are the scissors.”

Man: *takes the scissors and cuts some of my hair*

Me: “Nice one! If you’d just like to put the hair in the bucket ove—”

Man: *smiles, looks at my newly cut hair, and walks out of the fair with it*

Me: *speechless*

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