It’s A Crappy Color Anyway

| CT, USA | Right | February 12, 2016

(A woman approaches me in the pets department and asks to see all of our litter boxes. I oblige her.)

Customer: “No, no, these are all pink. I need a BLUE litter box.”

Customer’s Husband: “Honey…”

Customer: “He’s a BOY CAT. He can’t have a PINK litter box!”

Customer’s Husband: “He’s literally going to CRAP in it!”

(They began to argue so I just walked away.)

How Do I Get One Of Them Internets?

| PA, USA | Right | February 12, 2016

(I’m cashiering at a discount department store, and one of our duties involves answering the phones.)

Me: “Hi, we’re having a great day at [Store]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “What’s the number for online shopping?”

Me: “You mean customer service for the online store?”

Customer: “No, which number do I call to shop online?”

Me: “There… there isn’t one. You have to go online.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “You have to go on the Internet to do online shopping. That’s how it works. Do you have a computer?”

Dia-Path-etic

| UK | Right | February 12, 2016

(My family and I have gone into an unfamiliar cafe for a light lunch. My dad and I order toasted sandwiches; my mum orders an ordinary cold sandwich. After 10 minutes mum’s sandwich comes, but no toasties. A few minutes later my dad catches the server’s attention:)

Dad: *in a jocular tone* “Hi, we’re still waiting for two toasted sandwiches. You haven’t forgotten us, have you?”

Server: *angrily* “We’re very BUSY!”

(Five more minutes go by. Mum has finished her sandwich, but I and dad haven’t got our food. The server comes towards us with a toasted sandwich, but serves it to the woman at the next table.)

Me: *to server* “Excuse me, we’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes. My mum’s finished her food, and we still haven’t had ours. I notice you’ve served that lady who came in after us. Has something gone wrong?”

Woman At Next Table: “I have type one diabetes! I HAVE to eat now. How DARE you complain when I HAVE to eat something before I lapse into a coma!”

Me: “You have type one diabetes? Me, too. And what you’re eating won’t help you if you’re worried about lapsing into a coma. You need something sweet, not a savoury sandwich. Please don’t make our condition an excuse for bad manners. Nobody was talking to you, anyway.”

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Trial By Redial

| England, UK | Right | February 12, 2016

(Apparently I have a “posh” phone voice, so I’m tasked with answering the phone if the receptionist is out.)

Me: “Good morning, this is [My Name] at [Company]. How can I assist?”

Caller: “Yes, hello. Do you have any two-by-four [wood]?”

Me: “Sorry, I think you have the wrong number. This is a laboratory company. You have called [Company].”

Caller: *an older voice answers* “Oh, is this not [Lumber Yard]?”

Me: “No, this is [Company]. We don’t have anything to do with lumber.”

Caller: “Oh, err, sorry.” *hangs up*

(My MD gives me the strangest look, shakes his head before getting back to work. The phone rings again.)

Me: “Good morning, this is [My Name] at [Company]. How can I assist?”

Caller: “Can I speak to [Name that doesn’t work here]?”

Me: “Sorry, nobody works at [Company] by that name.”

Caller: “Is this [Lumber Yard]?”

Me: “No, this is [Company].”

Caller: *click*

(The phone rings instantly.)

Me: “Okay, look. This is still [My Name], still at [Company]. You must have just hit redial.”

Caller: “Well of course I did, I was trying to reach [Company] lumber.”

Me: “Yes, I understand, but very clearly you. Need. To ring. A. different. Number.”

Caller: *click*

(I start to feel bad, even concerned that I might get in trouble, as my MD is quite strict and a professional, when… the phone rings again, same number.)

MD: *shouting from the other side of the office* “Is that the same guy?”

(I nod.)

MD: *answering the phone* “Yes… Yes… No, no problem… Any time… Of course… Bye.”

Me: *confused* “I could of sworn that was—”

MD: “Oh, it was. He is now expecting a lorry of wood at two o’clock tomorrow.”

(I forgot about it until the next day. The receptionist had a very confusing phone call to deal with.)

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Don’t Have A Cow, Man

| VIC, Australia | Right | February 12, 2016

(I work on a cattle farm in a small town. I am checking fences on the quad bike when a small car drives up the dirt road next to the paddock I’m in. A couple gets out of a small car and walks up to me. This is just a farm; we do not handle customers, just send cattle to the marketplace. I have no retail experience and have had a very bad day and it’s almost quitting time.)

Boyfriend: “Hello there. We’re from [City] and we saw those small cows in the fields back there, and we where wondering if we could buy one?”

Me: “Sorry, mate, the calves aren’t for sale.”

Boyfriend: “But my girlfriend really wants one.”

Me: “Sorry, mate, we don’t sell ’em to people and besides, how would you get it back to your house?”

Boyfriend: “We put it in the boot.” *the trunk*

Me: “Wait, what? You put what in the boot?!”

Boyfriend: “The small cow…”

Me: “What the h***, man! You can’t do that!”

(I climb through the fence and make the couple open the boot. Inside is a week-old calf!)

Me: “Jesus, mate, how the f*** did you get it in there?!”

Boyfriend: “Well, that’s the other thing I wanted to talk about! It wasn’t easy at all; my girlfriend got kicked!

Girlfriend: *shows me her arm, bruise already starting to show* “It really hurts; I think we should get the cow for free.”

Me: “YOU’RE NOT GETTING THE CALF!”

Boyfriend: “That’s not fair! It was so hard to get; we didn’t even have time to close the gate again.”

Me: “You didn’t close the gate…”

Girlfriend: “No. Why?”

Me: *looks back down the road to see half the mob of cattle wandering towards us*

Me: “F***!”

(I grab the calf, which until this point hasn’t felt the need to move much for whatever reason, and place it on the ground. It immediately takes off towards the other cattle, bellowing for its mother.)

Boyfriend: “What the f*** did you that for, you f****** a**-hole! I should kick your a**! We are gonna find your boss and get you fired!”

Me: “Whatever. Just get lost!

(I race to the quad bike, start rounding up cattle, taking them back to the paddock before they get to the main roads. It takes about half an hour. When I get back to the shed the car is out the front and my boss is talking to the couple.)

Boss: “These two just told me the funniest story about you.” *he’s smiling, thinking this has to be a joke*

Me: *still fuming over what happened, begin yelling at the couple*

Boss: “Wait, this isn’t a joke?”

Boyfriend: “No, this isn’t a joke! Your employee is terrible!”

Boss: *takes a moment to process the whole thing, begins to get his angry face on, and I retreat to safe distance* “YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU TWO TRIED TO STEAL ONE OF MY CALVES?! GET THE H*** OFF THIS PROPERTY BEFORE I FIND A DEEP MINE-SHAFT I CAN THROW YOU IN!”

Couple: *shared look of terror on faces, they run to the car and speed off*

Boss: *after calming down* “Beer?”

Me: “God, yes.”

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