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Stick To Your Ac-Cord

| Dortmund, Germany | Technology

(This happened to my coworker at a call center of a large telephone company.)

Coworker: “Welcome to [Company]. How can I help you?”

Customer: *an old lady* “Hello, my phone is broken. It doesn’t ring anymore when someone calls me.”

Coworker: “Okay. Is it a rented phone or have you bought it?”

Customer: “I don’t know; it’s old.”

Coworker: “Is it a cordless one?”

Customer: “What?”

Coworker: “You know, one without a cord between the telephone and the handset? Or is there a cord?”

Customer: “I’m not sure. Please wait, I’ll have a look.”

Coworker: “Um….”

(Two minutes later:)

Customer: “Hello? Listen, I have no idea what kind of phone I have. My son is coming over tomorrow; he’ll call you again then.”

Coworker: “Good idea.”

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Wish He Would Shut Up Like A Clam

| Hudson Valley, NY, USA | Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(A table of three old men come in and sit, they order, and I go back to the server station. I turn around to find one old man has followed me back.)

Me: “Sir, can I help you? Did you forget something?”

Old Man: “Clams. You got clams?”

Me: “Oh, yes, sir, we have clams in white garlic sauce, or we can do a marinara—”

Old Man: “No. Steamed clams.”

Me: “Uh, no, sorry, we don’t have steamed clams on the menu.”

(Old Man returns to his table, mumbling. As I am about to bring drinks to another table he stops me in the middle of the dining room.)

Old Man: “Let me have a look at the menu again.”

Me: “Certainly, sir, I’ll bring one over to your table in a moment.”

Old Man: “You can just give it to me now.”

Me: “Okay, sir, hold on one moment, I just need to put these drinks down.”

(He stands behind me, sighing, as I serve the drinks. I give him the menu and he doesn’t even open it.)

Old Man: “How about shrimp?”

Me: “Yes, we have shrimp, just like the clams. I’m afraid it’s not steamed though. We can do it grilled or sautéed if you’d like.”

Old Man: “Is the shrimp frozen?”

Me: “Yes, we freeze it, but it’s fresh. Our delivery comes—”

Old Man: “I’ll take it frozen.”

Me: “Uh… it’s uncooked. Do you want it raw?”

Old Man: “You serve RAW shrimp?”

Me: “No, we typically cook it. It’s frozen raw.”

Old Man: “So how do you serve it with the red sauce?”

Me: “Like… a shrimp cocktail?”

Old Man: “Yeah! Exactly.”

Me: “We don’t have shrimp cocktail.”

Old Man: “A seafood place with no shrimp cocktail, unbelievable.”

(He goes back to his table. We’re an Italian place. I bring out their appetizer, wings.)

Old Man: “I don’t get any tartar sauce with that?”

Me: “Uh, what?”

Old Man: “Tartar sauce. I want tartar sauce.”

Me: “We don’t have any fried fish on our menu; we don’t have tartar sauce.”

Old Man: “Well, it ain’t that hard to make. I want some. Go tell the cook if he can’t make me shrimp cocktail or clams he better make some d*** tartar sauce!”

(One of the cooks gives me a hard time, but whips up some tartar sauce, missing some prominent ingredients. After I clean the table I notice the tartar sauce sitting, untouched, behind the man’s glass.)

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Kiwidiot

| Australia | Language & Words

(My accent is fairly odd, and I often have people ask me whether I’m from another state or country. Generally I tell them that I am not and they leave it at that. This customer is not so easily convinced.)

Customer: “How long have you lived in the country?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “I detect a New Zealand accent. How long have you lived here?”

Me: “I’m not from New Zealand. I was born here. Actually, I’ve never even been out of the country.”

Customer: “Oh, so your parents are New Zealand, then?”

Me: “Well, no, they’re Australian, too.”

Customer: “That’s odd. I guess you must have spent a lot of time around New Zealanders, then. It’s amazing how much of an accent you’ve picked up.”

Me: “No, I don’t really know anyone from New Zealand, sorry.”

Customer: *looking angry* “Well, where did you get that accent, then?”

Me: “This… this is just the way I speak.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! I spent ten years in New Zealand as a girl; I know a New Zealand accent when I hear one! You shouldn’t lie to people!”

(She stormed out and I have yet to encounter her again. Three hours later, a new employee asked me if I was English.)