Justice Is Music To My Ears

| MO, USA | Bad Behavior, Crazy Requests

(I have been employed at this store for maybe two weeks and haven’t learned the antiquated computer system for instrument rentals yet. A customer comes in and asks for a used instrument to rent monthly. I go down into the catacombs, pick out the best quality one [as I was trained to do] and come back up after about five minutes. I input her stuff into the computer, and can’t get it to print correctly.)

Customer: “I’m getting really tired of waiting.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, this is my first time doing a monthly contract and I’m not sure—”

Customer: “I would have loved to have been there for your job interview. What, are you related to someone?”

Me: “Pardon?”

Customer: “I mean seriously, are you working this job to get through DeVry? Just print the d*** contract.”

Me: “I’m trying to, ma’am, but—”

Customer: “It took you so long to get back up from the basement because you got lost, right?”

(She continues this tirade for the next five minutes as I keep trying – and failing – to print her contract correctly. Finally, my boss walks out of his office.)

Boss: “Ma’am, we won’t be renting you this instrument today. You should go.”

Customer: “Excuse me?”

Boss: “Believe it or not, [My Name] is worth more than a clarinet, and based on how you’ve treated him, I can only imagine the horrible stuff you’d put a clarinet through. You should go.”

Customer: “Well, if this MORON actually had two brain cells—”

Boss: “This moron has read more books than you have sentences. Please leave.”

Customer: “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m going to tell all my friends not to come here.”

Boss: “The way you treat people? You don’t have any friends. Goodbye, and don’t come back.”

(She storms out, as I stand flabbergasted.)

Boss: “I’d rather close than serve customers like that.”

(Best. Boss. EVER.)

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This ID Is Sub-par

| Westchester, NY, USA | At The Checkout, Food & Drink, Money

(I am the customer in this story. I am checking out with a few items of food and some beer. I keep my ID and subway card in the same pocket of my wallet.)

Cashier: “Could I see some ID?”

Me: “Sure!”

(Not paying any attention, I hand her my subway card.)

Cashier: *holds card while staring at me, waiting for me to notice it’s not a driver’s license* “Um…”

Me: “Oh, oops! Sorry!” *hands her my ID*

Her Coworker: *while bagging my groceries* “Now, if it was a twenty, that might have worked!”

Broken Eastern Promises

| Hay, AB, Canada | Extra Stupid, Geography, Tourists/Travel

(There is a smaller highway that ends in the city, and another one that starts. I work at a gas station between the two so we get a lot of people driving through.)

Customer: “Excuse me, but how do I get back on Highway #3?”

Me: *gives directions*

Customer: “No. I mean the other way. We just came from [City Two Hours Away].*

Me: “No, that’s the only way. Highway #3 ends here. Did you want Highway #41?”

Customer: “I don’t think so. I’m headed to [Destination].”

(My dad has just walked in to pick me up from work.)

Me: “And you said you came from [City Two Hours Away]?”

Customer: “Yes. Why, what’s wrong?”

(I’m speechless at this point, but my dad helps her, and the owner confirms what he says.)

Dad: “You turned the wrong way. You have to head back; you just lost about seven hours driving time…”

(What should have been two hours turned into more than seven hours driving and an overnight stay. Guess they didn’t know when the sun is setting BEHIND you, you aren’t traveling west…)

November Theme Of The Month: I Don’t Work Here!

Not Always Right | Announcements, Theme Of The Month
Introducing November’s Theme Of The Month: I Don’t Work Here!

Entering is easy:

  1. Submit a funny or interesting story about this month’s theme: I Don’t Work Here. Share a story when telling them you don’t work here, doesn’t work!
  2. At the end of the month, we’ll feature our favorite Theme Of The Month stories in a roundup!

Been Reading To Him Since Way Before He Was Born

| Seattle, WA, USA | Books & Reading, Extra Stupid, Family & Kids

Customer: “Can you recommend a book for my son?”

Me: “Sure, how old is he?”

Customer: “Three.”

Me: “Okay. What’s he into?”

Customer: “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in five years.”

Me: “Um, he’s three?”

Customer: “That’s what I said.”

Me: “But… you haven’t seen him in five years?”

Customer: “Yeah, messy divorce. I just moved back to Seattle. I used to read him bedtime stories.”

Me: “How old was he?”

Customer: “You know, like a toddler.”

Me: “I think you’re missing something. He was three when you left, but it’s five years later. Your son is eight now…”

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