A Few Sandwiches Short Of A Picnic

| Reno, NV, USA | Right | May 28, 2014

(A lot of middle and high school students from all over the state are in town for an event. The shop is slammed, but we’re doing our best to move the line along quickly. The board behind me lists our 18 different cold sandwich options in huge letters. It also states the bread sizes: small, medium, and large.)

Me: “Hello. What can I get for you today?”

Customer #1: “Um… can I have a… medium sandwich?”

Me: “Sure thing. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

Customer #1: “Medium?”

Me: *pointing at the board behind me* “Absolutely, what kind of meat and cheese would you like on your sandwich?”

Customer #1: “Um… white bread?”

Me: *grabbing a medium white roll* “Okay, and what kind of meat would you like? We have ham, turkey, roast beef…”

Customer #1: *starting to look confused and angry* “Just a regular sandwich!”

(The customer gestures at the sandwich belonging to the customer in front of him, which already has lettuce and tomato on it, obscuring the meats.)

Customer #1: “Like that one!”

Me: “Okay, so that one’s a ham, turkey, and provolone. Would you like that?”

Customer #1: ” … ham.”

Me: “Great! Any cheese?”

Customer #1: “I just want a regular sandwich!”

(I quickly make him a ham and American cheese sandwich, pass him to the next person working the line, and turn to my next customer.)

Me: “Hello, miss! What can I get for you today?”

Customer #2: “Can I have a… small sandwich?”

Me: “Absolutely. What kind of meat and cheese?”

Customer #2: (staring at the board) “Oh, I guess wheat bread?”

(It was a long day.)

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Listening Is The Ticket

| NH, USA | Right | May 28, 2014

(I work at a family amusement park in New Hampshire, where gambling is illegal. We have a fake casino amongst our arcades, but it gives out tickets, not money.)

Guest: “How do I buy these prizes?”

Me: “You have to win tickets from the machine and use them to purchase the prizes.”

Guest: “I can’t just buy them?”

Me: “No, sorry. Game prizes are not for sale.”

(A little later…)

Guest: “I played all these games and I got tickets instead of money! You said I’d get money! Where is my money, you b****?”

Me: “I’m sorry if there was a miscommunication, sir. I said you’d get tickets and that you could use them to get prizes.”

Guest: “Is this a f****** joke?!”

(He threw the tickets in my face, spit on the floor, and stormed out, dragging his very young son after him, who had seen and experienced this whole tantrum.)

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Will Have To Wait For The Correct Answer

| IN, USA | Right | May 28, 2014

(I have just finished at the doctor’s office and talk my mom into taking me to get some coffee. We decide to go through the drive-thru as I need to get back to school and her to work. She is driving and I’m riding shotgun.)

Cashier: “What can I get for you today?”

Mom: “Two coffees, please.”

Cashier: “That’ll be [total]. Please pull around to the window.”

(As there is a long line, it takes about 10 minutes before we finally get to the window.)

Cashier: “Sorry about the wait.”

Mom: “Oh, I’m doing fine. How about you?”

(At this, the cashier gets a deer-in-the-headlights look as he does not know how to respond to this break in the conversational cycle. I, however, am cracking up.)

Mom: *looks at the cashier and then at me* “What’s so funny?”

Me: “Mom, he said sorry about the wait.”

Mom: “Oh! I thought he said ‘how are you.'” *turns to the cashier* “I’m sorry. You can laugh at me if you want…”

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A Sizeable Lack Of Information

| Gaithersburg, MD, USA | Right | May 28, 2014

(On a slow evening, a customer comes in and immediately approaches me at the counter.)

Me: “How are you this evening, ma’am? Is there anything I can help you find?”

Customer: “I’m looking for sweater for my daughter.”

Me: “Okay. What size is she in? And is the sweater for any particular occasion?”

Customer: “Well, she’s petite and slim. Really small for her age.”

Me: “Well, what size shirt does she wear?”

(It’s really hard to sell to a customer when you don’t know what they are shopping for.)

Customer: “She’s petite and small.”

Me: “Well, how old is she?”

Customer: “She is small for her age.”

Me: “I understand that, but if I don’t know what size she is in, I can’t show you what I have available in that size.”

Customer: “She is slender and petite.”

(Giving up, I show her the only sweater I have in stock for girls.)

Me: “Okay. I have this one here. It’s great for the spring time and can be dressed up or down depending on the occasion. The biggest it comes in is a 5T.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s too small.  She’s a size eight.”

(The customer left the store telling me I should’ve known what size she was looking for.)

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Not Listening Is An Occupational Hazard

| Kelowna, BC, Canada | Right | May 28, 2014

(When a customer comes in to do a money transfer, I have to get a piece of ID and ask them two questions.)

Me: “I just have a couple of questions before I can pay you out your money.”

Customer: “Okay, sure.”

Me: “What country were you born in?”

Customer: “Canada.”

Me: “Okay, and what is your occupation?”

Customer: “White.”

Me: “White?”

Customer: *very firmly* “Yes, white.”

Me: “Okay… So, your occupation is white?”

Customer: “Yes.” *thinks for a moment* “Oh, wait. What’s occupation mean again?”

Me: “What do you do for work.”

Customer: “Oh, I thought you meant what color I am! I work in construction!”

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