A customer comes into the gas station.

Customer: “I only have cash.”

Me: “That’s fine. I can take payment here and pre-approve the pump to the dollar value you want.”

Customer: “What happens if I go over?”

Me: “The pump won’t let you go over.”

Customer: “What happens if I don’t use it all?”

Me: “I give you the change.”

Customer: “Wow, you’ve really thought of everything!”

Me: “Well, two things—”

Customer: *Throwing cash at me, delighted.* “—everything! You’re amazing!”

The customer goes outside to pump, and as predicted, it stops pumping to the penny. He comes back inside for no other reason than just to shout:

Customer: *Still delighted.* “Amazing! You thought of everything!”

And he goes back out, still shouting:

Customer: “Everything!”

This story reminded me of my own experience as a waitress, and it was so similar it’s uncanny.

A customer is unsatisfied with how “un-crispy” her bacon is.

Customer: “This bacon is so raw, I can still hear it mooing!”

Me: “I will be happy to get you a new… wait… mooing?”

Customer: “Yeah! You know! Moo! Like a cow!”

Customer’s Friend: “Moo is beef. What you’re eating is oink.”

Customer: “…”

Customer’s Friend: “That’s from a pig, [Customer’s Name].”

Customer: “Well, I grew up on a farm, and we got our bacon from cows.”

Customer’s Friend: “Where the f*** was that farm, Chornobyl?”

Related:

Mmm, Fresh Cowpig Straight From Chornobyl Farms

EDITOR’S NOTE: The spelling ‘Chornobyl’ has been used instead of ‘Chernobyl’. This is the Ukrainian spelling, which is now the preferred and more accurate term.

I used to work in a storage place. The storage area was two storeys, so, naturally, there was a goods lift to help people shift their heavy items from the ground floor up to the first and vice versa.

It was pretty customary to give a new customer a quick walk-through to their locker after they’ve signed up, show them where to punch their code in, where the locker is, how to use the goods lift, etc.

Me: *Upon entering the loading bays.* “These are our goods lifts, one on either side of the stairs. You can use them to send your heavy or bulky items up to the first floor. Please do not ride the lift yourselves; they are for goods only. If you’d like to follow me…” 

I led the customer upstairs.

Me: “So here is the first floor—”

Customer: “—Where does the lift come out?”

Me: “…Excuse me?”

Customer: “The goods lift. Where does it come out?”

I point to the two obvious sets of lift doors that don’t look like any other doors in the building, say “lift’ above them, and are directly above the lift doors on the ground floor.

Customer: “Oh! So, it goes straight up and down?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “When you said it wasn’t for people, I thought it might be different.”

Me: “What, like… side-to-side?”

Customer: “I don’t know, but… different. Up and down is boring.”

I continued the tour, and I had to explain to my manager why I only got a three out of five customer feedback score because said customer was upset we hadn’t installed one of Willy Wonka’s glass elevators.

Me: “Thank you for calling [Pizza Place], how can I help you?”

Caller: “I’d like a salad to go. What sizes do you have?”

Me: “We have small and large.”

I’m about to describe the weights of each size, but then:

Caller: “I’ll take a medium.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t have medium, we have—”

Caller: “You just said you have small and large! That means there’s a medium in the middle!”

Me: “We have a small, which is in a twelve-ounce container, or a large, which is sixteen ounces.”

Caller: “So then give me a medium! Fourteen ounces!”

Me: “I would still need to charge you for the sixteen ounces.”

Caller: “I don’t care! I want a medium!”

I charge him for a large. My coworker puts a large salad in there anyway (he felt bad under-filling it), and when the customer comes in to pick up his to-go order and sees the container filled as normal, he says:

Caller: “See? You did have medium-sized containers! Why did you have to be so difficult?”

I work in a vintage music store in a touristy part of Los Angeles. We have a huge vinyl collection (both old and new) and attract a lot of customer types, from old-school collectors to… newer fans of the medium:

A young guy comes over holding a vinyl album:

Customer: “Is this region specific?”

Me: “Region specific? You mean, like region locked?”

Customer: “Yeah.”

Me: “It’s vinyl.”

Customer: “Yeah. So, can I play these when I get back to the UK?”

Me: “It’s vinyl. They’re literal discs of PVC.”

Customer: “Yeah. So, can I play these when—”

Me: “—when you get back to the UK, yes. Yes, you can.”

Customer: “Wicked! Thanks!”