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A-Salt-ed By Stupidity

Right | September 29, 2015

(I manage a large fast food chain that uses sea salt on their French fries. A customer orders her fries with no salt.)

Me: *handing her order to her* “Here’s your order. Have a nice day.”

Customer: “There’s no salt on these fries, right? I hope so. I’m allergic to salt!”

Me: *staring blankly* “Ma’am, do you want me to remake your burger then? We salt the patties. In fact, there is salt on everything that goes on your sandwich.”

Customer: “No. I’m only allergic to sea salt.”

Me: “You do realize that they’re both just sodium chloride, right? In fact, table salt has iodine added and is usually bleached, so if you had an allergy it would be more apt to be…”

Customer: *cutting me off* “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t have! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” *grabs ketchup packets and storms out*

Me: *I grab a ketchup pack and begin reading packet ingredients to a coworker* “…tomato paste… corn syrup… sea salt… Huh, would you look at that. They put sea salt in the ketchup.”

Coworker: “Yeah, do you know what the clinical term is for someone who is allergic to salt?”

Me: “What’s that?”

Coworker: “Dead.”

Will Need To Massage The Truth When He Retells The Story

, , | Right | July 20, 2008

(This big, muscular guy comes in for a massage. We assign clients randomly and he got stuck with me, 110 lbs of girl.)

Tough Guy: “I requested a male therapist.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to go back? They’ll give you to the next guy when he’s ready.”

Tough Guy: “How long will that take? I’ve been waiting for two hours!”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m sure it won’t be much longer. We can go back and they’ll put you at the top of the waitlist.”

Tough Guy: “No! Let’s just do this already.”

(He explains that he likes “very deep pressure” and wants a deep-tissue massage with “lots of elbows.” He tells me to go as deep as I want because “you’re not going to hurt me.” Thirty seconds later, as I’m using my hands…)

Tough Guy: “Ow, that’s too hard! Don’t go so deep!”

(I lighten it up a lot and start to run my forearm down his back, and he starts dramatically wincing and squirming all over the table.)

Tough Guy: “OWWWW, that’s too hard! You need to go lighter!”

(By the end of the massage, I was just brushing him with my hands, his tolerance was so low. The next week, I got his comment card back.)

Tough Guy’s Comment Card: “You beat the s*** out of me and I’m never coming back here again!”

The Bitter Taste Of The Law

, , | Right | September 5, 2014

(I work in the call center for a national fast food restaurant. We don’t accept ideas about new or modified products from guests, and we especially don’t pay for them. Any time a guest starts to give a suggestion, we have to read them a legal statement to that effect.)

Caller: “I wanted to tell you that I love your turkey burgers, but I really think you should start serving them on gluten-free—”

Me: *interrupting* “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I do have something I need to read you real quickly.”

(I then read the legal statement stating that we can’t accept her idea, and won’t pay for it.)

Caller: *long pause* “Well, I don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t sound very nice, so I’m going to hang up on you.”

(And she did!)

Setting The Wrong Tone

, , , , | Right | August 5, 2010

Me: “Thanks for calling [Copier Company]. Can I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, I’d like to order some toner for my copier.”

Me: “Okay, is this for a black and white machine or a color machine?”

Caller: “Well, the machine is kind of cream-colored…”

The Dog Isn’t The One That Needs To Get Neutered

, , , , | Right | September 15, 2008

Me: “Animal hospital. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, you got any prostitute dogs?”

Me: “…what, sir?”

Caller: “Prostitute dogs. Do you have them there?”

Me: “I am not quite sure I understand what you are asking me.”

Caller: “My dog won’t stop humping my leg. Do you have any dogs that are prostitutes that he could hump?”

Me: “Sir, those don’t exist.”

Caller: “How do I get him to stop humping me, then?”

Me: “You could get him neutered. That sometimes helps.”

Caller: “F*** NO! I ain’t choppin’ his balls off!”

Me: “I am sorry, I can’t help you.”

Caller: “That’s bulls***. I am going to find me a prostitute dog somewhere else!” *click*


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