This Job May Involve Occasional Groping

, , | Right | February 21, 2008

(A VERY high customer approaches me.)

Customer: “I NEED A WATCH!”

Me: “Alright… did you have anything in mind?”

Customer: “Not too expensive, with a leather band, and it has to match theeeessseee.” *points to his brown leather bracelets*

Me: “Okay, what about something like this?” *holds up watch*

Customer: “NO THIS ONE!”

(He points to a VERY expensive watch with a black metal band that meets NONE of his above-mentioned requirements.)

Me: “Well, that watch is rather expensive…”

Customer: “NOT TOO EXPENSIVE!”

Me: “Okaaay… what about these?” *points to customizable watches*

Customer: “I like those two! I like them because they’re round.” *one of the watch faces is, in fact, square*

Me: “…”

(Customer now attempts to answer his ringing phone, accidentally drops it, and while attempting to pick it up, falls onto my male boss. He groggily apologizes, then staggers out of the store to take the call, leaving behind his purchase from another store.)

Boss: “Is that guy high?”

Me: “As a kite.”

Boss: “Oh, okay. Because he just groped me.”

Me: *dies laughing*

(Customer now returns, accompanied by a friend. Customer continues to be stupid, while friend tries to shoplift. After all this has gone on, customer and friend go to talk to Boss.)

Them: “So are you guys hiring?”

Boss: “Am I hiring druggies or shoplifters? NO.”

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Coming To A Theater Near You: Gangsta Ushers

, , | Right | February 18, 2008

(It is a known fact that when you go into our movie theater, you cannot have extra bags or cups, because that is how the theater makes their money. You can bring empty cups with you, but we cannot provide you with them. One night, a guy is not having it.)

Me: “Nope, I’m sorry. I can’t give you an extra bag.”

Customer: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “Because each bag is accounted for through our inventory, and if I give you one, it will be messed up.”

Customer: “Then how am I supposed to share with my son?”

Me: “Pay the 35 cents more and upgrade.”

(I finish giving him his order, and then turn around to clean up some of the mess. The customer suddenly reaches behind the counter, grabs another bag and takes off.)

Me: “Oh, h*** no!” *chases customer down with a team of gangsta ushers*

(We surround the customer, as all the ushers have their arms folded and are staring him down.)

Usher #1: “You gonna give her that bag back?”

Customer: “THIS IS RIDICULOUS!”

Usher #2: “Then don’t come here if you can’t follow our rules.”

*security guards escort him out*

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How Nicknames Are Born

, , , | Right | February 14, 2008

(An intensely inebriated individual entered our store with two women in tow, one pushing a baby carriage, wearing a Jordan jersey, sunglasses, and sporting gold fronts.)

Customer: “CRACKAS STINK! THIS STORE STINKS! CRACKA STORE STINKS!”

Me: *falls over laughing*

Customer: “GOOD LORD IT STINKS! SHE GOT PURPLE HAIR, I BET IT STINKS!”

Women With Him: “Shut up! Shut up! I’m sorry, he doesn’t–SHUT UP! ”

Me: *rolls around with glee*

Customer: “STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANK!”

(And from then on I am known as stinky hair.)

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Word Of The Day: Owned

, , | Right | February 5, 2008

(As I am working in the department, refilling betta containers, dressed in company attire and name tag clearly displayed.)

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, I do. What can I help you with?”

Customer: “I was standing here for ten minutes, waiting for someone to help me.”

Me: “Oh, well I have been here for the last twenty minutes.”

Customer: “Could you help me find this [competitor’s can of cat food]?”

Me: “I am sorry, ma’am, we do not sell that brand here.”

Customer: “DO NOT TELL ME THAT, I WAS JUST HERE LAST WEEK AND BOUGHT IT!! I KNOW YOU SELL IT!!”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t.”

Customer: “FINE THEN, PROVE IT!”

(I turn to the back of the can and read it.)

Me:Marketed and sold by [competitor]. Anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: *turns and walks away*

Me: *smile*

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Send In The Clowns

, , , | Right | January 27, 2008

(Almost thirty kids are lined up at the Velcro wall waiting to ride. We have about five minutes until our troupe leaves. One of the parents comes up to me.)

Mother: “I want my son to ride this ride.”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t think there’s enough time for all these kids to–”

Mother: “I don’t care if he’s the last one. I want him to ride this ride.”

Me: “This ride is going to shut down in about five minutes. There isn’t enough time for–”

Mother: “He can be the last in line, then.”

Me: “He can wait in line but probably won’t be able to–”

Mother: “Fine.”

(The mother walks away and returns some time after the ride is shut down and all kids are turned away.)

Mother: “Hey! HEY! I thought we agreed that my child would get on the ride.”

Me: “That’s not what we agreed to.”

Mother: “Well, put the ride back up so he can ride it.”

Me: “I’m sorry but we can’t do all that for one child.”

Mother: “Why not?! You’re just being f***ing stubborn.”

Me: “If you have any complaints you can speak to the clown over there. Have a nice day.”

Mother: “I don’t want to talk to any d*** clown.”

Me: “That clown is my boss.”


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