Dubya Dubya Dubya Dot Duh

| Right | January 5, 2008

Me: “Can I get your domain name please?”

Customer:[email protected]

Me: “That’s actually an email address. What I’m looking for is something similar to www.website.com.”

Customer:[email protected]

Me: *sigh* “Can I get your name?”

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Not Quite Getting What “Return” Means

| Right | January 4, 2008

Customer: “I’d like to return these ice pops.”

Me: “Ok, I just need to see your receipt.”

(I take the box of ice pops.)

Me: “…this is an empty box!”

Customer: “Well, we ate them. Some of them taste good, but some of them had a weird taste, so we threw them out.”

Me: “I can’t give you money back on something you already ate.”

Customer: “Why are you so difficult?! I’m never shopping here again!”

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At Least She Tried: Racism, Sexism AND Jesus

| Right | January 4, 2008

Female customer, from 15 feet away: “Hey, you!”

Me: “Yes?”

(Customer comes over with her friends and a dirty soccer-ball shaped pillow.)

Female customer: “This is the last one and it’s dirty. I want 20% off!”

Me: “I’d like to give you a discount, but you’ll have to talk to one of my superiors. I don’t have the authority to do that.”

Female customer: *points towards the sky* “My only superior is up there, and He’s the only one who I take orders from. ”

Me: “Let me see if I can get a manager.”

(I call for a manager, and of course, no one shows up. After 10 minutes…)

Female customer: “Why can’t you give me a discount?”

Me: “Because I don’t have the authority.”

Female customer: “Well, I think you can’t give me a discount because you don’t believe in Jesus!”

Me: “You can take that item to the service desk, and I’m sure they’d be able to help you out.”

Female customer: “Yeah and we’ll stick out like a bunch of sore thumbs since we’re the only black people in the store!”

Me: “Actually, our store manager is African American, as well as two of our assistant managers, who are both women.”

Female customer: “Oh.” *she finally walks away*

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It Runs In The Family

, | Right | January 3, 2008

(A little kid comes running up to counter and points at our menu board above my head.)

Kid: “I want that one!”

Me: “The taco or the burrito, honey?”

Kid’s mother: “Don’t point! That’s rude. You have to tell her what you want.”

Kid: “I want the taco.”

Me, turning to the mother: “Ok. What can I get for you?”

Kid’s mother: *points* “I want that one.”

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More Slippage

| Right | January 3, 2008

(I was working another very long day right after March of the Penguins had come out , stuck in the box office, when a sweet looking little old lady and her sweet little old lady friend walked up to the window.)

Me: “Hello, how can I help you today?”

Old lady: “Hello sweetie. I’d like one senior for March of the Penises.”

Little old lady friend: “Oh my God…” *shocked, puts hand up to mouth, whispers to friend*

Me: “I think you might have the wrong theater…”

 

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