In Soviet Russia, Accent Speaks You

, | Bronx, NY, USA | Right | December 14, 2017

Throwback Thursdays

THROWBACK THURSDAY! Check out this awesome story that you may have missed! What’s the wildest experience you’ve had with the police while at work? Let us know in the comments!

 

(The phone rings.)

Cashier: “Hello, [Name] Pizza… Oh, f***, not again.”

(She hangs up. A few customers come and go, and the phone rings again.)

Cashier: “Hello, [Name] Piz— f*** this!”

Customer: “Hey, lady, problem with the phone?”

Cashier: “Some sicko keeps calling from a blocked number and making creepy comments.”

Customer: “Hang on. I gotta go find my friend.”

(He pays and leaves… and comes back with a 6’8″ NYPD police officer.)

Police Officer: *with a minor Russian accent* “I hear you’re having a problem with a caller?”

Customer: “No, no. Do the accent! Make it f***in’ scary!”

Police Officer: *in a deeper voice with a thick accent* “Excuse me. I hear you have problem with caller?”

(The cashier explains. The police officer orders a slice of pizza, and he and his friend sit and chat for a few minutes. Then the phone rings.)

Cashier: “It’s a blocked number!”

Police Officer: *on the phone, with the accent* “Hello…. You are thinking my body is what? I am thinking your body probably very fragile. Very easy to— Oh, he hung up.”

(They stare at the phone a few minutes.)

Customer: “Problem solved?”

Cashier: *to customer* “So… is your buddy there single?”

Police Officer: *in accent* “Boris have many women. All are love him!”

Customer: “You’re married and your name isn’t Boris!”

Police Officer: “Boris is name of accent. Has life of its own.”

See this story as a comic!

1 Thumbs
6,170
VOTES

Not Getting Any Lumber Support

, , , , | Right | December 14, 2017

(I work in the garden department of the store. I also have the new portable phones that every department has.)

Me: “This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, do you have 16″ by 16″ pads?”

(I hate this question about concrete pads; they are for housing peers and trailer homes. When we get transferred a call from customer service they have to use their best judgement on which department to send it to, which is not outside garden.)

Me: “No, sir, that is in lumber.”

Customer: “I know you have them. You also have the landscape timbers, so the concrete pads are with them. How long have you been working here?”

Me: “A month.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s why you don’t know; get me someone who does know.”

(By this point, I am a little annoyed because I’ve had this question quite often in the month I have been here; the answer is always lumber. To make him happy, though, I ask two of my coworkers; they say concrete pads are in lumber. He still insists that they are in our department, but I tell him to hold while I get a price on them. The store recently got new phones, so I can’t transfer; I walk all the way down to lumber, and then I tell him the price.)

Customer: “Oh, so, they were down there the whole time.”

Me: *face palm*

Not Everyone Wants To Go Back To Vinyl

, , , , | Right | December 14, 2017

(Our large store is only staffed sparingly, usually only two people on at one time. If one goes on a break the other is left alone. I am at the counter serving with several people lined up patiently waiting when a customer comes to the beginning of the line.)

Me: “Do you have a question?’

Customer: “No, I want someone to cut some vinyl for me.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you will need to join the line.” *I keep on ringing up sales*

Customer: “Join the line? I just want some vinyl cut.”

Me: “Yes, I know. I will need to serve the people on the line before I can serve you.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous. I don’t want to be served; I just need vinyl cut.”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t leave here; I am the only one serving. You will need to join the line and wait your turn.”

Customer: “I’ll just wait at the vinyl, then.”

Me: “No, I really need you to wait here on line. Although, if you have other shopping, you can get that first before getting on the line for me to serve you.”

Customer: “I don’t need anything else. I just want vinyl cut. Why do I have to wait here on line?”

Me: “Because I can not leave a line of customers who have been waiting for much longer than you, and if you don’t wait here there’s a chance I’ll forget you are over there seeing as I am so busy right now.”

(He goes and stands metres away from the line, pacing back and forth, shooting me dirty looks. A few moments later my colleague comes off lunch.)

Me: “[Coworker], will you please cut vinyl for that man?”

(I apologise to each of the customers as I serve them.)

Customer #2: “Oh, my God! The sort of thing you have to put up with! I would have told him to eff off.”

Me: “Yes, I think I need a break now.”

Customer #3: “Well, you deserve it. Is there any booze out there?”

I’ll Pop A Cap In Your Gas

, , , , , | Right | December 14, 2017

This happens when I am working at a small independent appliance store.

I am on the shop floor when a foreign gentleman comes in enquiring about a new cooker. He has a grant from the local council, from which he can select anything matching the description. For example, he could not get a TV on a grant for cooking appliances.

I ask him what he has in situ, and he is not sure. I take his details, and as he is only a two minute walk from the store, I ask the boss if I can just go down and have a look. He agrees as it is not busy.

He has in place a gas cooker, which, as we do not have the correct certification, we are not allowed to disconnect or reconnect. I explain this to him and offer for us to liase with a gas fitter and arrange for the disconnect and reconnect when we deliver the new one. He declines, saying he can do it.

We get back to the shop and select one that he likes, which fits with what he already has and is within the cost of the grant. A couple of days pass and we receive the new cooker. I call the chap and let him know it’s in. I ask if the old one is disconnected and he says yes. Later that afternoon we go round and it still isn’t disconnected. I explain to him again that because of the certification, we would get in a lot of trouble for touching it, especially as the local housing authority would want to see some kind of certificate, which we cannot provide. I offer again to arrange with one of the gas fitters that we are friendly with to meet up with us and do it. Again, he says no; he will do it.

Another few days pass and the customer calls the shop and says it is ready now. We go to the house and there is a distinct smell of gas. I ask what he has done and he says he has taken the pipe off the old one and blocked the main gas. I have a look, and to my bewilderment, he has stuck a bottle cap into the gas pipe, jamming the valve open, thus leaking gas into the house. I immediately tell him that we will have to leave and call the gas board and fire department. He is refuses, saying we cannot tell him what to do in his own house. I am very concerned at this point, not wanting to get blown up, so all customer service goes out of the window. I shout at the chap telling him that unless he wants to kill us all and blow the house to pieces, we need to get the f*** out and not touch any switches. We all evacuate, and the fire and gas people turn up pretty promptly, closing off the entire road.

In the end the customer got a hefty fine from the fire department, but at least no one was hurt.

No Black Friday Is Music To My Ears

, , , | Right | December 14, 2017

(I live above a music store, which my landlady owns. It’s Black Friday, and I’m downstairs to give her my rent check. It’s around 11:00 am and the store ALWAYS opens at 10:00. A woman comes storming in and gets into my landlady’s face as much as she can, leaning over the counter.)

Customer: “IT’S BLACK FRIDAY! WHY WEREN’T YOU OPEN FOR YOUR SALES?!”

Landlady: *blinks, the woman taking her by surprise* “I don’t participate in Black Friday, ma’am. This is a music and instrument store.”

Customer: “I know it’s an instrument store! I was expecting to get one of those violins for $50!”

Landlady: “Ma’am, those violins are over $500. I would never sell them for so little. I’ve never posted any signs that I’d be open early, nor have I ever in the 30 years I’ve owned this store. Now, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

(The woman continues to argue, even trying to pull the “this is illegal!” card. Since the shop is located downtown, we’re only two blocks away from the police station. I cut in to her ranting.)

Me: “Lady, the police station is right over there. Should we just call them over to settle this?”

(She glares at me before stomping out.)

Landlady: *muttering* “Crazy old witch.”

(My landlady is still getting cancer treatments, and I’ll happily defend her against any bully.)

Page 2/3,97812345...Last
« Previous
Next »