Sodium And So Dum

| FL, USA | Bad Behavior, Extra Stupid, Health & Body

Customer: “I’d like a half-pound of the [Cheap Brand] low-sodium ham, please!”

Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t have [Cheap Brand] low-sodium ham. We do have the [Premium Brand] low-sodium ham, though.”

Customer: “No, you do have the [Cheap Brand] kind. It’s right there.”

(She points to the Cheap Brand boiled ham, which is the lowest quality meat we sell, and is loaded with salt and fat.)

Me: “Ma’am, I’m afraid that ham isn’t low-sodium. Actually, that’s the highest-sodium ham we have.”

Customer: “WHAT?! I’ve been eating that ham for three months because I thought it was healthy! My doctor said my blood pressure was dangerously high!”

Me: “Um… that’s not good. Did one of the employees here tell you that ham was low-sodium?”

Customer: “No! I just assumed it was!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you probably should have asked someone here about that.”


Eternal Persistence Is The Price Of Pie

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | At The Checkout, Food & Drink

Customer: “Can I have the [flavor] pie?”

Me: “Sure! Would you like sauce with that?”

Customer: “And it’s to eat-in please.”

Me: “Sure. Do you need tomato sauce?”

Customer: “I’ll also have a [coffee] with that.”

Me: “I’ll add that to your order. Do you need tomato sauce for the pie?”

Customer: “Make sure its skinny milk! And I’ll also have a slice of cake.”

Me: *giving up* “Sure. Was there anything else I can get you today?”

Customer: “No, thanks. That’s all.”

Me: “Okay, so that comes to [total]. Here’s your table number.”

Customer: *hands over money but doesn’t move*

Me: “Um, if you’d like to take the table number, ma’am, we’ll bring everything out for you.”

Customer: “Well, can I get some sauce first?”

Obsessions With Possessions

| Houston, TX, USA | Bad Behavior, Extra Stupid

(We don’t have associates permanently supervising the fitting rooms, so they’re left unattended for periods of time while the fitting room associate cleans out the other ones. I enter an open fitting room to find an entire outfit of clothes that we do not sell. My first instinct was that someone had changed into our clothes in the fitting room and stolen them, leaving theirs behind. I then look over to see a phone and a purse left in the fitting room, and take the items to a manager to report the incident and laugh at the supposed thief’s stupidity. Just then, an angry looking woman comes up to the counter.)

Customer: “Those are my things!”

Me: “Oh! You left them in the fitting room.”

Customer: *angrily* “Well, I wasn’t finished…”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am. You left your things in an open, unsupervised fitting room. You’re lucky I found them. If another customer had walked in there they could have just grabbed them at walked right out.”

Customer: “But I wasn’t finished!”

Tis The Seasoning

| MI, USA | Awesome Customers, Crazy Requests, Food & Drink

(My father and I decide to go out to eat at a chain restaurant around Christmas. We can’t help but overhear a table, with a husband who has remained silent the entire time, and a wife, complaining about how her meal has been ruined by the waiter, who happens to be the manager on duty.)

Woman: “Excuse me, sir. You completely ruined my steak. This is not what I ordered.”

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I would be more than happy to correct this error. May I ask what is wrong with your steak? Is it overcooked?”

Woman: “Just slightly but the major problem is the seasonings you put on the steak. I cannot stand it. I want just a plain steak. No seasonings.”

(Overhearing this, I realize I have ordered the same thing, a Cajun top sirloin, which clearly states that there is spices put on the steak. After a few minutes, the manager comes back with a plain steak for the other table, as well as my meal. After delivering my meal, the woman pulls the manager back to her table.)

Woman: “Sir, this is the second time, and the last time I hope I have to call you over here. You ruined my steak again. This steak is so bland and flavorless. How hard is it to give me a good steak with a bit of salt and pepper?”

Manager: “I am sorry for the confusion, ma’am. I’ll go fix your order personally.”

Woman: *as the manager is leaving the table, but clearly able to hear* “You know, honey, why would a place like this put that seasoning on something when it doesn’t even say it has it on there? No one likes that stuff anyway.”

(Both my father and I have worked in restaurants most of our lives are fed up by this demanding customer and come to the aid of the manager.)

Myself: *loud enough for the manager to hear* “Oh, my god! What did they do to this steak!?” *I see the woman turn around and give me a look of agreement as my dad is trying the steak* “This is the best steak I have ever had! And the seasoning is GREAT!”

(The husband is nearly falling out of his chair laughing as the wife stays silent for the rest of the meal. The manager later thanked us for helping silence the customer. Knowing he was going to get stiffed on a tip, we each pitched $10 just to make his day a little brighter.)

Making A Mute Point

| IL, USA | Bigotry, Extra Stupid, Technology

(I am at visiting a game store that I go to quite often, to the point that most of the employees consider me a “regular”. Due to a throat injury I received when I was younger, I am mute. I’m there to see if they have a copy of a game that had, at the time, just come out. There are only two employees working at the time; both are behind the counter as I walk in. Any ‘dialog’ of mine for this story is actually just me scribbling into a notepad and showing it to whoever I am speaking to, as it’s my main method of communicating.)

Employee #2: “Hey, [My Name], are you looking for something?”

Me: “Yeah. I was hoping you had a copy of [Game], since I wasn’t able to reserve a copy.”

Employee #1: “Yeah, we have a few. I’ll show you where they are.”

(He shows me to where they are, and leaves me to do some extra browsing. He returns to the register, where his coworker is, when another customer approaches them. He appears to be in his late-teens/early 20s.)

Customer: “Hey, you really shouldn’t encourage her like that.”

(The customer gestures to me, and isn’t even being subtle about it.)

Employee #2: “I’m sorry, sir, but I have no clue what you mean.”

Customer: “That girl over there! If you treat her like a normal person, she might get the wrong idea!”

Employee #1: “With all due respect, what are you even talking about?”

Customer: “Don’t play dumb! She’s clearly retarded! Won’t it look bad for business if you let a [slur] wander around? And besides, she’s a girl! She probably doesn’t even play video games!”

(Unfortunately, people assuming I am either deaf or mentally handicapped because of my inability to speak is a common occurrence. I’ve gotten used to it, but it doesn’t make it any less annoying. Still, I do my best to ignore it. The assumption that I don’t play video games because I’m a girl isn’t as common, but it does come up once in a while.)

Employee #2: “Please forgive me, sir, but I’m going to have to ask that you not speak about her that way. Not only is she a regular customer, but she’s definitely NOT mentally handicapped. She just can’t speak because of—”

Customer: “Right! Because she’s retarded! I don’t think it’s safe to let her wander around the store. What if she ends up making someone else retarded?!”

(All three of us are completely dumbfounded. As mentioned before, I’m used to these sorts of assumptions, but this was a new one.)

Customer: “So are you going to kick her out or not? People like her don’t deserve to be in here!”

Employee #1: *visibly angry, and doing his best to keep his cool* “No, we’re not. However, if you don’t stop insulting out customers, we are going to have to ask YOU to leave!”

Customer: “What the h***, man?! I’m just looking out for your best interest! If you wanna treat that [slur] like she’s a person, that’s your business, but don’t come running to me if it hurts your business!”

Employee #1: “Okay, that’s it. We tried being civil. Please leave and don’t come back.”

(The customer is clearly pissed off, but before he can say or do anything, I walk over and slip a note into his hands. He instinctively reads the note.)

Me: “By the way, you can call me retarded all you want, but at least I’m not the one with their fly unzipped.”

(He looked down and confirmed that his fly was, indeed, unzipped. His face turned a shade of red, and he then stormed off in what I could only assume was a combination of rage and embarrassment. We still laugh about it to this day!)

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