(I used to work in a retail store as a cashier. I would sometimes get people who would hand me empty wrappers or pop bottles saying they had eaten/drank the contents while shopping. I was used to it, and appreciated honesty. Then this….)
Me: “Hello, how are you today?”
Customer: “Good…”
(The customer hands me an empty hot dog vacuum-seal wrapper thingie. THE FROZEN ONES.)
Customer: “I ate these while I was shopping. Could you ring them up for me?”
Me: *facepalm*
(I work at an store that sells teaching materials. A guy comes in. Keep in mind I was the only person in the store at the time.)
Me: “Hello! Can I help you find anything today?”
Customer: “Yes, I’d like to get an algebra book for my nephew.”
Me: “Okay.
(I show him the algebra books, and we make small talk about his nephew…)
Customer: “I can see the divine light in you.”
Me: “…”
Customer: “I went up to the mountain and Jesus burned the sins out of me. I couldn’t see anything except fire. Now I can see the divine light in people. You have it. You are pure and innocent.”
Me: *trying not to be completely freaked out* “Huh…heh…”
Customer: “I can see it…you are immortal!”
Me: “Okay…”
(Later, when my boss came back and I told her about this, she laughed and told me that according to this guy she was a Demon Slayer. I felt kind of swindled.)
(I work every summer in a beach shop in Florida. One morning, a man comes in and buys a beach chair, and returns after a few hours with his family.)
Customer: “I would like to return this chair.”
Me: “Of course. Do you have a receipt?”
Customer: “No, I just went to the beach. Why would I keep the receipt?”
Me: “Is there a reason why you are returning the chair?”
Customer: “It’s broken.”
(The chair is soaked with water, coated with sand, and has a hole in the seat from what looks like a footprint on the cushion.)
Me: “I am sorry, sir, but we cannot accept used, broken items for return.”
Customer: “What?! I didn’t break it!”
Me: “I am sorry sir, but without a receipt, it still cannot be returned.”
Customer: “Son of a b****! You hear that kids? This Russian b**** is going to f*** up our vacation!”
Me: “…Russian? I live here.”
Customer: “Don’t lie to me! I hear that accent.”
Me: “…What accent?”
Customer: “THERE! You just did it. No one talks like that in the Northeast.”
Me: “…I’m a Southerner. You’re in the South.”
Customer: “Whatever, you piece of racist s***”
(The man left only after he threw the chair at a clothes rack. Quite the job experience for a fifteen-year-old.)
(A customer comes in after filling his car.)
Me: “G’day sir, pump number four4?”
Customer: “Yeah.”
Me: “That’ll be $47.90.”
Customer: “I spilled a bit of gas out there.”
(There is an auto-shutoff feature which the customer apparently ignored and kept pumping.)
Me: “Oh, don’t worry about that, sir.”
Customer: “What are you going to do about it?”
Me: “I’ll just spread some cat litter on it and soak it right up.”
Customer: “No, I mean, what are you going to do for me? Gas is expensive and I can’t afford to be pouring it all over the ground!”
Me: “…then may I suggest not overfilling your gas tank?”
Me: “Hello, [Travel Agency]. How may I help you?”
Caller: “Hello, I have a question.”
Me: “Sure, go ahead.”
Caller: “Do you offer cruise packages?”
Me: “Yes, sir, we do.”
Caller: “Would that be on a ship?”
Me: “…”
