Asking Ballsy Questions

| Roseville, CA, USA | Health & Body, Rude & Risque, Theme Of The Month

Female Customer: “I’d like to return these men’s underwear.”

Return Counter Clerk: “That’s fine. Was there something wrong with them?”

Female Customer: *with a totally straight face* “My husband says his balls keep falling out of them.”

(No further questions!)

Sadly This Is Regular Behavior

| Liverpool, England, UK | Rude & Risque, Theme Of The Month

(At my small café, I am the only waitress who will work Sundays. Now I know why. One guy, who is apparently a regular as he knows the boss, comes in. He seems cheerful enough and I give him my usual smile and politeness as I process his order, which is simply a tea to go. As I am making the drink, he comes up behind me and mutters.)

Customer: “I’d love to f***you.”

(I honestly have no idea what to say, so I give him his drink and move to the back of the kitchen to start washing the plates and cutlery. He finally leaves.)

Me: *to Boss* “That customer just said he’d love to f*** me!”

Boss: “What?! Just wait until he comes back again!”

(The following week she processed his order herself.)

Customer: “So, where is [My Name] today?”

Boss: “I don’t feel it is right to submit her to such inappropriate behavior from a customer who is at least three times her age.”

(His embarrassment at the other customers staring was worth it.)

Low On The Milk Of Human Kindness

| West Sussex, England, UK | Food & Drink, Math & Science, Wild & Unruly

(My wife and I do our weekly shop every Monday. My wife’s a primary school teacher and has a very calm, nature. She’s also practiced judo since early childhood, runs a class at weekends, and has a self-defense class that uses non-excessive force. My wife has offered to get the ingredients for her school to make pancakes the next day, as it is the day before Shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day). Most ingredients are shared but we need 14 two-pint jugs of milk. My wife is at the pancake display. There are loads of ready made, ready mix, and separate ingredient on display. My wife is counting out the 14 jugs of milk, when another customer approaches.)

Customer: “Jesus, lady, leave some for the rest of us.”

Wife: *looking at the display* “I’m sure there’s enough for everyone.”

(My wife moves the trolley to try and leave.)

Customer: “Stuck-up b****.”

(My wife carries on moving as she has what she needs.)

Customer: *moving his trolley to block my wife* “Hey, don’t ignore me. I asked you a question.”

Wife: “No, you didn’t. You told me to leave some, even though there’s more than enough. Then you called me a stuck-up b****. Please move your trolley so I can get away from you.”

Customer: “How many you got in there? 14?” *he takes two milks out* “Now you only have 10.”

Wife: “Not only are you rude, you’re also an idiot. 14 minus 2 is 12.” *reaches out and gets two more milks* “Now there’s 14 again.”

(She moves her trolley quickly around the man. By now people are starting to stare. I make a move to go to her but she gives me a look so I stay where I am. The man takes a step towards her and puts his hand around her wrist.)

Customer: “You think you’re better than me, b****?!”

Wife: *very calmly* “Sir, I have tried to ignore you’re insults and politely asked you to move. You will not leave me alone. Now you have placed you hands on me in a threatening manner. This is considered assault. If you do not let go of me NOW I am within my rights to defend myself. Do you understand?”

(The customer just looks at her as if she’s spoken another language.)

Wife: “I have given you fair warning. I am obliged to warn you that I know judo. Please let go of me.”

(My wife tries to move her arm but he holds a little tighter.)

Customer: “You think you can hurt me, you b—”

(My wife uses the heel of her hand to strike the man in the face, causing his nose to bleed. She then flips him, where he lands with an almighty crash half on the floor and half on the display. While he is laying, screaming, she bends his index finger back (without breaking it) so he cannot get away. We hear heavy footsteps as security and staff comes running. People are just standing around, amazed.)

Security Guard: “What’s going on? Miss, you need to let go of him now, please.”

Wife: *very calmly* “This man was very rude and abusive to me. I asked him several times to leave me alone but he held my arm. I warned him I know judo, but he decided to hold on tighter. I then defended myself against a personal attack.

(The police were called and the man was taken away. My wife, I, and a few other customers were questioned by police as to what happened. As we all said the same thing, and my wife did not use excessive force, we were all told to go on our way. The supermarket donated the pancake ingredients to the school and my wife and I received £500 in vouchers. The customer has been banned from that store and the other major supermarkets in the area.)

Sweet Sixteen Is A Bitter Surprise

| Chicago, IL, USA | At The Checkout, Family & Kids, Theme Of The Month

(When I was sixteen, I was the only girl working at this particular hardware store. While I was scanning another customer’s purchases, and old man slides behind me at the register and whispers in my ear.)

Customer: “I didn’t find what I wanted, but that’s okay.”

(I jerk away from him, because he was quite close.)

Me: “Oh… I’m sorry, sir.”

Customer: *takes my left hand and caresses my ring finger* “Tsk, tsk. Boys don’t know anything these days. A girl like you should already be snapped up.”

Me: “I’m 16.”

Customer: *drops my hand abruptly* “Have a nice day.”

Stripped Of His Confidence

| USA | At The Checkout, Rude & Risque, Theme Of The Month

(This conversation occurred between me and a customer buying shoes for a wedding. I’m a tall girl and rather busty.)

Me: *after ringing up shoes and going through usual questions* “Okay, that will be [total].”

Customer: “Just a second.” *pulls out wallet, digs in pockets, and locates two extra bills in another pocket* “Hey, I found extra money. That’s great!”

Me: “Oh, yeah, I always love finding extra money at the bottom of my purse.”

Customer: “Oh, from your job as a stripper?”

(At this he freezes and his whole face is overcome with a look of absolute horror at what he’s just said. His tone isn’t insulting and in fact I got the distinct impression he must have a lot of female friends he casually jokes with without thinking. I’m standing there struggling between laughter and insult and settle on laughter as I’ve had a good day and he just looks like he feels really bad.)

Customer: “Oh, my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to imply—”

Me: “It’s fine. It’s flattering to think I look good enough to be a stripper.” *poses*

(The customer laughed though clearly still felt bad, He paid and left with his shoes. Another coworker walked over, having heard the exchange, and we stared at each other a moment before we burst out laughing.)

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