It Is Paranoia If There Is No One After You

| AB, Canada | At The Checkout, Bizarre, Theme Of The Month

(I work as a cashier in a bed, bath and furniture place. We are required to ask customers for emails and postal codes before they pay. I usually skip the email bit for older customers because they usually won’t have an email, but still ask for postal codes. My next customer is an older man.)

Me: “Hi, is this everything for you today?”

(The customer just gives me a blank stare.)

Me: “That’ll be [price]; can I get your postal code?”

Customer: “MY POSTAL CODE?! WHY DO YOU NEED MY POSTAL CODE?!”

Me: “Well—”

Customer: “I’M SICK OF THE GOVERNMENT SPYING ON ME ALL THE TIME! THE LAST THING I NEED IS STORES AND PEOPLE LIKE YOU SPYING ON ME!”

Me: “…alrighty then.”

(I proceed to hit the skip button and finish his transaction.)

Customer: “I must come off as a paranoid freak, but I assure you I’m not!”

Tour Guides Are Ready To Answer All Questions And ‘The Question’

| Derbyshire, England, UK | Family & Kids, Geeks Rule, History, Top

(I work in a museum located in an Elizabethan manor house, which naturally shows a few signs of wear and tear. Today, I’m in a room with a large crack across the wall. I’m also a huge fan of the television show ‘Doctor Who.’ I carry a toy sonic screwdriver in my bag and have the phone number that is suppose to be the Doctor’s keyed into my phone. A young boy and his parents come into my room and spot the crack.)

Boy: “Look, Mummy, a crack! It’s The Silence!”

(The Silence are a race of monsters that created cracks in time and cause you to forget them as soon as you stop looking at them. His parents look pained, so I step in.)

Me: “Don’t worry kid; this museum is a monster-free zone.”

Boy: “How do you know? You might have just forgotten them.”

Me: “Nah, The Doctor came and checked the crack for us; he said it’s fine.”

Boy: “Really? You’re not just making that up?”

Me: “Of course not! I’ll prove it.”

(I pull the sonic screwdriver out of my handbag, and the boy’s eyes go wide.)

Me: “See? The Doctor gave me this just in case one turns up, but I’ve never had to use it yet.”

Boy: “Wow!”

Me: “And if I really get into trouble…”

(I pull out my phone, bring up my contact list and show him the number listed as ‘The Doctor.’)

Me: “…he told me just to give him a call and he’d come right over.”

Boy: “AWESOME!”

(The boy is delighted for the rest of the visit, and his parents thank me profusely. Apparently he’d been skittish of cracks since the episode went out, and I’d been the first person to reassure him completely. Later, my boss came round with a thank you card they’d got me, addressed to ‘the Doctor’s companion.’ It made my day!)

A Walk-In That Runs Out

| NV, USA | Family & Kids, Health & Body, Liars & Scammers, Top

(I work as a secretary in my husband’s practice. We don’t take walk-ins, and it’s clearly stated on the front door, but people still try to see him without an appointment. One day, someone comes in while my husband is out having lunch.)

Walk-In: “Hi, can I see Dr. [Name]?”

(I already suspect something, since my husband would never schedule appointments during his lunch break.)

Me: “What time is your appointment?”

Walk-In: “I don’t have one.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we’re by appointment only.”

Walk-In: “That’s okay; I’m his brother. He’s expecting me.”

Me: “Really? He didn’t tell me anything of the sort.”

Walk-In: “Well, you’re just a silly secretary. You don’t need to know that sort of thing. Can I go see him now?”

Me: “You said you’re his brother?”

Walk-In: “Yes!”

Me: “Well, that’s funny. You don’t look the least bit like him.”

Walk-In: “Everyone says that.”

Me: “Really?”

Walk-In: “Look, b****, I don’t have time for this. Just—”

(At this point, my husband has returned from lunch and has just heard the walk-in’s slur.)

My Husband: “Excuse me! Don’t speak to her that way.”

(The walk-in turns around and looks my husband square in the face.)

Walk-In: “Hey, mind your own business, moron. This doesn’t concern you, so butt out.”

Me: “Actually, it does concern him. That’s the doctor.”

(The walk-in goes white in the face. My husband crosses his arms.)

My Husband: “And moreover, that’s my wife you’ve just insulted.”

Me: *sweetly* “How did you say you were related, again?”