Doesn’t Read Sign Language

| AK, USA | Right | September 4, 2013

(It’s my first day in a small drive through coffee shop; another employee is also working. A customer drives up and orders two drinks, which are promptly made. When I give her the total, she tries to hand me a card. We only take cash, and have three signs placed on and around the window saying so.)

Me: “I’m sorry; we only take cash.”

Customer: “You didn’t tell me that! I don’t have any cash!”

(My coworker steps in.)

Coworker: “There is an ATM located behind you at the liquor store, and one at the gas station two buildings down. We will be happy to keep your drinks warm, until you return.”

(The customer glares at us and zooms away. I’m pretty sure that she’s not going to be coming back. About 20 minutes later though, she zooms back up at my coworkers window.)

Customer: “Can I have my drinks now?”

Coworker: “That will be $8.25.”

Customer: “You know, you should tell people that you only take cash!”

Coworker: “Actually, we have three signs around the window, if you’ll notice.”

Customer: “Well, people won’t notice a sign; you need to tell them!”

Coworker: “Here is your change; thank you.”

Customer: “What is your manager’s phone number? I’m going to tell them about this!”

Coworker: “It’s right here on this sign.”

(My coworker points a sign next to the big ‘Only Cash’ sign. I’ve been finishing an order right next to my coworker, and the customer turns to me.)

Customer: “You wipe that smile off your face! You think this is so funny, don’t you!? Well, I’m going to tell your manager!”

(Later, the owner calls to have us listen to the lady’s voicemail. She basically blows the entire situation up, saying that we had been really rude, and that I had been… laughing manically. Yes, “manically.”)

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Bambi: Unrated Version

| Jacksonville, FL, USA | Right | September 4, 2013

(I am babysitting my eight-year-old neighbor. They have just recently bought a guinea pig, and I am holding him.)

Girl: “My friend Chloe has a pet bunny.”

Me: “Oh really? What’s its name?”

Girl: “Humper.”

Me: “What?!”

Girl: “Yeah, her bunny’s name is Humper!”

(I am a bit confused, but then it dawns on me.)

Me: “Um, I think you meant to say Thumper.”

Girl: “Oh! Yeah, that’s what I meant. The bunny’s name is Thumper!”

(By this point, I am cracking up.)

Girl: “What’s so funny?”

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Some Customers Are Like Pulling Teeth

| MD, USA | Right | September 4, 2013

(My boss has informed me that his best friend has unexpectedly died, and that he will need to cancel his appointments for the next two days. I’m currently on the phone to a patient who is notorious for being difficult.)

Me: “Hello, this is [me] calling on behalf of [dentist]. I’m calling to inform you that due to unfortunate circumstances, [dentist] will have to cancel your appointment for Friday. I do apologize for the inconvenience, but would you like to take the time to reschedule?”

Patient: “Seriously? This is unacceptable. I’ve already cleared my schedule just so that I can be there. What is so d*** important that he can just cancel my appointment?”

Me: “Well, sir, [dentist] will be taking time off to attend a funeral out of state. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience. I do have an opening two weeks from today. Would that work?”

Patient: “No, no, I’ve already agreed to meet with my clients all that week. See, my time is actually worth something; I can’t just cancel on my client’s last minute like [dentist]. Honestly, how does he expect to stay in business if he cancels on his patients like this?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be sure to tell [dentist] that the next time one of his life-long friends unexpectedly dies, that he should be more considerate of his patients.”

Patient: “See that you do!”

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Counting On Each Other

| Mt. Juliet, TN, USA | Right | September 4, 2013

(I am the customer at one register checking out. There is another customer at the other register, who is accompanied by her four-year-old daughter. The daughter is bouncing all over the place, looking at toys and candy while her mother’s purchases are being bagged.)

Little Girl: “Mommy! Mommy! Can we get this for the new house?”

(The little girl holds up a miniature basketball hoop and ball.)

Mother: “No, sweetie. We don’t need it.”

Little Girl: “Okay!”

(The little girl continues rummaging through the nearby racks avidly. The cashier hands the mother her receipt.)

Mother: “Come on, [name]; time to go!”

(The little girl half turns to look at her mother, clearly still engrossed in the toys.)

Little Girl: “I need a count of four.”

Mother: “One… two…”

Little Girl: “Okay! Coming!”

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You Can’t Stop The Music

| USA | Right | September 4, 2013

(I am 12 years old. A few years ago, my dad died. He was the main breadwinner of the house, so my mom is now supporting the family. As money is tight, I occasionally take my violin out and perform for tips to get a bit more. I have arrangements with a local convenience store, so they allow me to play right out front. I am playing, when a customer from the store storms up to me.)

Customer: “What the f*** do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “Um… I’m busking, sir.”

Customer: “Cut that s*** out! There are people who need that money out there, unlike you!”

Me: “Dude, I do need thi—”

(The customer then grabs my violin, and smashes it repeatedly against the ground, the wood splintering until it’s a pile of demolished wood. I am on the verge of tears, before the employee who works in the store comes outside.)

Employee: “What the f*** do you think you’re doing?”

Customer: “This little s*** is stealing from people who really need money! He should be punished!”

(The employee calls back into the store.)

Employee: “Hey, call the cops!”

(The customer shoves the employee to the ground, and kicks him in the ribs. A small crowd has gathered around us, when a tall man wearing a long black trench coat walks up.)

Tall Man: “Hey, a**-hat! Pick on someone your own size!”

(The two began to fight, throwing some punches around. Unfortunately, the customer who broke my violin knocks the wind out of the tall man. I have had enough, and I snap. I have been sitting, cradling the stem of my violin, but now I stand up.)

Me: “Hey f***-face!”

(The customer turns around, just in time to get a violin neck to the crotch. He collapses, not even making a sound. The cops arrive and arrest him. Later on, he is forced to pay a fine, and damages. I get a brand spanking new violin, and keep on busking. My family’s income is now stable, and everything’s fine, but I still cherish the memory of the tall man who came to my rescue. I never got his name, but thank you.)

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