More Than A Touch Of Obnoxiousness

| GA, USA | Holidays, Theme Of The Month

(It’s near to closing time, and I’m at the front counter alone while my coworker takes a bathroom break. A woman comes in with a man, presumably her boyfriend; she goes upstairs while the man browses near the desk. I hear a guitar-like sound and look up to see that the man is strumming on a homemade banjo-like instrument which is labeled, ‘PLEASE DO NOT PLAY.’)

Me: “Sir, please don’t touch that.”

Man: *politely* “I’m sorry. I thought it was for sale.”

Me: “It is, but the dealer put that sign on it because it’s really fragile.”

Man: “Okay. Sorry.”

(The man wanders off upstairs. My coworker returns, and I gather up the paperwork to do the end-of-day report in the office. As I head back, the woman comes stomping down the stairs with the man behind her. She brandishes a small glass lamp.)

Woman: *angrily* “I TOUCHED this, but since I’m BUYING it, I guess it’s okay, right?”

Me: *stunned* “Ma’am, we don’t mind at all, but sometimes dealers put signs on more delicate or expensive items to help prevent accidents. I’m sorry.”

(The lady proceeds to the counter. I put the paperwork in the office and return to the front, sensing that the customer will be trouble. Sure enough, the woman is muttering under her breath and glaring. I help my coworker wrap the lamp and give it to the woman. She and the man make their way toward the door. My coworker, who is a sweet elderly lady and perfectly polite, notices that the customer has left her receipt crumpled on the counter.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, you forgot your receipt!”

Woman: *whirls to face us* “No, I don’t WANT it. You can put it in the TRASH, along with that piece of s*** over there!” *points at the instrument*

Me: “…Have a wonderful day. And a Merry Christmas.”

Woman: “Yeah, yeah, you too!” *leaves*

(The man never said a word!)

Intelligence Is At An All Time Depression

| Kansas City, MO, USA | Crazy Requests, History

(We have a lot of customers who come in looking for something for someone else as a gift; however they often have no clue what they are looking for. Just ‘that thing their friend collects’.)

Customer: “What is the name of that red glass?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but can you be any more descriptive?”

Customer: “You know, that red glassware that people collect.”

Me: “Um, ruby flash?”

Customer: “No, no, no. It’s old, and collectible!”

Me: “Is the glass itself dyed red, or is it painted red? Or is it a different base color with red designs?”

Customer: “It’s red. Or pink.”

Me: “Cape Code? Currier and Ives? Vaseline? Murano? I…I really need more information before I can help you.”

Customer: “It’s the name of all the glass! I don’t collect it! My friend does! I want to get her some!”

Me: *trying one more time* “Depression?”

Customer: “DEPRESSION! THANK YOU!”

(The customer walks away without even asking me where it is in the store.)

Coworker: “Um… depression glass means any cheap translucent glass that was made during the Great Depression. It comes in almost any color you can think of, not just red and pink.”

Me: “You want to go explain that to her?”

Coworker: “Nope.”

A Measure Of Intelligence

, | AB, Canada | Uncategorized

(A customer has been wandering around our store for 1-2 hours. Finally, they come up to the front.)

Customer: “I wish you had tiled floors.”

Coworker: *confused* “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I wish you had tiled floors.”

Me: “Why’s that?”

Customer: “So I would be able to tell how big your furniture is.”

Coworker: “Well, we have a tape measure you can use. Would you like to borrow it?”

Customer: “Well, I guess that would work…”