Pissed Off (And On)

| | Right | November 5, 2009

(I work as a plumber for a 5-star hotel. One day, I get a call from a guest with a clogged toilet.)

Me: “Ah, okay…there’s probably a bunch of hair clogged deep down in these pipes.”

Customer: “Well, can you get it out?”

Me: “Yep. One sec.”

(As I reach my hand down deep in the pipes with a rooter, I don’t notice the hotel guest turn on the water. It’s separately linked, and the water won’t activate unless flushed.)

Me: “Okay, let me see if I got it…”

(I try to pull up, but my hand gets stuck.)

Customer: “You got it?! Oh, finally! I’m going to test it out, thanks!”

Me: “No, sir, I haven’t linked the pipes back toge–”

(The customer sits down and immediately lets out a thundering fart along with a large dump of diarrhea, simultaneously flushing. My head and the entire floor are soon covered with turd and piss.)

Customer: “Oh my…well, I expect THIS to be complimentary!”

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Moms: Gotta Love ‘Em, Part 2

| Right | November 4, 2009

Me: “Thank you for calling [store]. How may I direct your call?”

Customer: “Can you tell me if you have a product in your store? I have a code from an old receipt.”

Me: “Sure.”

(I pull up my terminal and she gives me the number. The screen gives me information for a very specific brand of condom.)

Me: “Yes, we have six in stock.”

Customer: “Wait, you have some? Last time I was in you were out. I need that specific product. See, I have this deal with my son. I buy him condoms and he doesn’t provide me with grandbabies.”

Me: “That’s nice.”

Customer: “Can I buy those condoms over the phone and have them sent to my son? I don’t want grandbabies until he’s out of grad school, and he’s on the east coast.”

Me: “No, ma’am. You can buy them online and have them shipped to a store near him.”

Customer: “Well, he doesn’t have a car. Can they be shipped to his house from your store?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but no. You could come in and buy them and ship to him yourself?”

Customer: “I guess I’ll have to do that. But knowing my luck, I’d run into everyone I knew while I was there. Thanks!”

 

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One Man’s Trash Is Another Man’s Half-Measure

| | Right | November 4, 2009

(I’ve finished ringing up a customer with a cart full of booze and cigarettes.)

Me: “Your total today is $498.34.”

(The customer pulls out a check that has been taped together, having obviously been ripped in half at some point. It even has VOID written on it. He proceeds to scratch out the information on the check and write in our store name and the amount).

Me: “You know I can’t take that check, right?”

Customer: “This is my check, and you take checks for payment. You are going to take this d*** check!”

(The customer gives me the check.)

Me: “I can’t approve this. Let me get my manager.”

(I go and get my manager.)

Manager: “Can I see your driver’s license, please?”

Customer: “Whatever. Here.”

Manager: “I need to make a copy of this, just a minute.”

(The name on the check and the driver’s license don’t match, so the manager returns with security.)

Manager: “If you would come with me to our office, the police will be here soon.”

Customer: “It’s my d*** check! I found it in the trash!”

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Taxing Faxing, Part 3

| | Right | November 4, 2009

Me: “This is [office]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “I was checking to see if you have received my fax.”

Me: “I am sorry, that has not been received.”

(I verify the fax number.)

Caller: “Well, I wrote on the cover letter to call me if you didn’t receive it. Why didn’t you call me?”

 

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We Are The Law

| | Right | November 4, 2009

(I’m helping at a comics show. Nearby are two men dressed in costumes as street judges from the comic Judge Dredd. A customer runs up to my store, clearly flustered.)

Customer: “I need help, I lost my drawing!”

Me: “A drawing? What type of drawing?”

Customer: “The artist at the signing table did a drawing of Spiderman for me and I lost it! I need the police!”

Me: “Okay, did you put it down at a stand or anything?”

Customer: “Yes…no. No, I think it was stolen.”

Me: “Somebody actually took it from you?”

Customer: “No, but, hey!” *looks and points at the street judges* “They’ll help me! Hey, guys!”

(The two judges come over to us at the desk.)

Judge Dredd: “What’s the matter?”

Me: “It’s okay, don’t worry. This man’s just lost a drawing.”

Customer: “I didn’t lose it, it was stolen. I want you guys to go find it.”

Judge Minty: “You serious?”

Customer: “Yes! Go! This b**** is useless!”

(Judge Dredd suddenly pulls big, obviously fake, gun from holster and points it at the customer.)

Judge Dredd: “You really want to talk to the lady like that?”

Customer: “Ahhh!” *runs away into exhibit hall*

(About forty minutes, later the same customer comes back to my desk clutching a rolled up sketch. He’s eyeing the main doors, in front of which the two judges are posing for photos.)

Customer, to me: “Um, is there another exit?”

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