Temporal Retentive

, , , | Right | October 2, 2009

(I work at a restaurant as a hostess. I see a customer, her young daughter, and her mother on their way out so I bid them farewell.)

Me: “Have a nice night. Thanks for coming!” *smile*

(The customer gives me a long stare and then mimics me.)

Customer: *sarcastically* “Have a nice night…”

Customer’s Mother: “Can I have your store’s phone number and your name? I would like to complain about your behavior!”

(I don’t know what this is about, but I still give them the phone number. Two hours later…)

Manager: “Hey, a lady just called and complained about you.”

Me: “Really? What did she say?”

Manager: “You told her to have a nice night.”

Me: “What’s wrong with that?”

Manager: “It was still light outside.”

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Let Me Transfer You To Our Fraud Department

, , | Right | September 25, 2009

Customer: “I need you to send me a return label for this lamp. I just opened it and I don’t like it.”

Me: “Unfortunately, we do not pay for return shipping, ma’am, but you are more than welcome to send it back to us.”

Customer: “Well, that is just unethical. I know you’ve sent me a return label before.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it is our company policy that we do not pay for return shipping unless an item is damaged or defective.”

Customer: “Well, it can be!”

 

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Harry & Ginny: The Golden Years

, , , | Right | September 10, 2009

(A man walks up to my register with his wife; they have a few items, one of which is a broom.)

Me: “How are you guys today?”

Husband: “Oh, we’re good.”

(The husband takes the broom and places it on the counter, and then stares at his wife).

Wife: “What?”

Husband: “Are you sure you’re going to fit on this?”

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Appease The Portuguese

, , , , , | Right | September 7, 2009

(Many South African liquor stores are owned by Portuguese people.)

Customer: “Obrigado!”

(Speaks in Portuguese.)

Me: “Sorry, sir, I don’t speak Portuguese.”

Customer: “WHAT?! Your family didn’t raise you in this s*** country to forget where we come from!” *guttural swearing in Portuguese*

Me: “Yes, sir, but–”

Customer: “WHAT THE F***! Did your daddy run away and leave your mother that you can’t speak, huh? You’re a half-breed! What you gonna do when this f***ing country goes to s*** and we gotta leave, huh?”

Me: “Well–”

Customer: “So, do you even THINK of yourself as Portuguese? Or are you ashamed of where you come from, or what?”

Me: “I’m Spanish.”

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Cash For Baby Bumpers

, , , , | Right | September 3, 2009

(I hear glass shattering from the back of the store, near the wine department. As I head to the source of the sound, I hear a second shatter and see a small child in a cart reaching for a third wine bottle to pull off the rack. There’s no sign of a parent around.)

Me: “Stop that!”

(I grab the cart and pull it away from the wine racks. Suddenly, the absent parent shows up.)

Customer: “How dare you touch that cart! My child is in that cart! How dare you touch my child without my permission!”

Me: “Ma’am, your child has broken two bottles of wine and was about to break a third bottle. I just saved you another $12.99.”

Customer: “Saved me? You’re the one trying to kidnap my child!”

Me: “Ma’am, you already owe me $26 for what happened when you were not watching your own child.”

Customer: “If you’re going to charge me money for bringing my child into the store, I should just let you take him!”

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