That Old Adage About Old Age

| Wales, UK | Bizarre, Health & Body

(My department for the local county council takes service requests from residents of the area for all sorts of things:)

Me: “Bore da. Good morning. This is [Local Council].”

Caller: *shouting* “I’M OLD!”

Me: “Okay, sir, it happens to all of us eventually. Now, how can I help?”

Caller: “I’M OLD, YOU SEE! I’M DISABLED! I HAVE ARTHRITIS AND SCIATICA AND BUNIONS.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear you have those things, sir. Now, please tell me how I can help you this morning.”

Customer: “YOU’RE NOT LISTENING TO ME. I’M OLD AND YOU NEED TO GET THIS SORTED.”

Me: “I listened to everything you’ve said, sir. You’re elderly and you suffer from arthritis and sciatica and bunions. Now, these things understandably cause you pain and would have meant you needed help with something. If you can remember what that ‘something’ was and recall why you might have phoned me up, I can try and help you.”

Customer: “I NEED YOU TO… Oh. I can’t remember. If you remember can you call me?” *click*

Me: *to thin air* “Uh… not without your phone number, I can’t.”

April Theme Of The Month: Losing My Religion!

Announcements, Theme Of The Month
Introducing April’s Theme Of The Month: Losing My Religion!

Entering is easy:

  1. Submit a funny or interesting story about this month’s theme: Losing My Religion. Share a story where the customer uses religion in a surprising way!
  2. At the end of the month, we’ll feature our favorite Theme Of The Month stories in a roundup!

Not Your Regular Zombie Apocalypse

, | USA | April Fool's Day, Zombies

(I am nearing the end of my shift. Unfortunately the zombie apocalypse started a few hours ago and so my coworkers and I are trying to add defenses to the doors and the windows. An obnoxious regular is trying to get in.)

Regular: “I want my triple cheeseburger, d*** it!”

Me: “Sir! Please get in your car and drive home! Your family will want to see you in this time of need!”

Regular: “F*** my family! And f*** you! You lazy good-for-nothing are just using any excuse not to serve me!”

Coworker: “Sir! Get away from the door! We need to lock it and defend ourselves!”

(My coworker rolls his eyes at the situation and goes into the kitchen to make sure the doors are locked there. Just then, I notice the regular has a bite-mark on his arm.)

Me: “Sir, you’ve been bit!”

Regular: “D*** right! I hit that stupid low-life right back, though! You should–”

(The regular stops talking, a look of abrupt calm on his face. Suddenly, I realize he is turning. I try to finish locking the doors but it is too late. The regular now has a bloodthirsty look in his eyes and is about to attack me, when suddenly…)

Coworker: “Yaaaargh!”

(My coworker rushes a knife from the kitchen. He savagely attacks the zombified regular, with multiple stabs to the brain to bring him down. After the ordeal he is standing there, breathing heavily, covered in blood, staring down at the corpse.)

Me: “Well done getting the zombie.”

Coworker: *looks up in confusion* “He was a zombie?”