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Crap, I Got Spawn Of Gorgoroth

, , , | Right | March 12, 2008

(I work at an store that sells teaching materials. A guy comes in. Keep in mind I was the only person in the store at the time.)

Me: “Hello! Can I help you find anything today?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like to get an algebra book for my nephew.”

Me: “Okay.

(I show him the algebra books, and we make small talk about his nephew…)

Customer: “I can see the divine light in you.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “I went up to the mountain and Jesus burned the sins out of me. I couldn’t see anything except fire. Now I can see the divine light in people. You have it. You are pure and innocent.”

Me: *trying not to be completely freaked out* “Huh…heh…”

Customer: “I can see it…you are immortal!”

Me: “Okay…”

(Later, when my boss came back and I told her about this, she laughed and told me that according to this guy she was a Demon Slayer. I felt kind of swindled.)

I’ll Have Whatever He Had

, , | Right | March 6, 2008

(A VERY drunk WHITE guy comes in five minutes before closing time.)

White Guy: “F*** you! You’re not going to serve me are you?”

Me: “Nope, sorry, we’re just closing.”

White Guy: “Awww, go on, please… just a quick pint!”

Me: “No, we’re closing.”

White Guy: “F*** you, is it because I’m black?”

Me: “…Yes.”

Socrates Meets The Elevator

, , | Right | March 4, 2008

Customer: “Is there an elevator to the theatre?”

Me: “Yes, directly across from me.”

(The customer walks to the front of elevator and starts yelling…)

Customer: “How does this thing work?!”

Me: “Press the button, and when the doors open, get in and press floor number 2.”

Customer: “No, how does this thing work?”

Me: “Do you mean the physics behind elevators? This brand of elevator… or something more specific?”

Customer: “No, how does it work with me?”

(My phone was ringing and I had to go answer it in a different room. I wandered off. Ten minutes later, the customer was still arguing with the elevator. I left for lunch… a very long lunch.)

A Pain In The Ask

, , | Right | February 23, 2008

(This customer bought a couple of packs of white t-shirts and socks.)

Me: “Your total is $28.77.”

Customer: “Were the shirts on sale?”

Me: “Yes, they were $2 off.”

Customer: “How do you know?”

Me: “…because that’s what the sale price is. See? It shows it here on the register screen.”

Customer: “Oh okay. But were they on sale?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Okay. Were the socks on sale?”

Me: “No.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Our sales change weekly and this week these socks aren’t on sale.”

Customer: “Why not?”

Me: “Because they aren’t on sale this week.”

Customer: “But why?”

Me: “I don’t know…corporate decides the sales.”

Customer: “Oh okay. What’s the total?”

Me: “$28.77.”

(The customer gives me $40 and I give him his $11.23. I used two $5 bills instead of a 10 because I didn’t have any 10s in my till.)

Customer: “I want a ten, I don’t want two fives!”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any tens in my drawer. I only have fives.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “Well, when I get change from my supervisors they just give me fives. They don’t usually have any tens. And also customers just don’t usually pay with tens.”

Customer: “But why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t really know. Probably because the customers usually get money from ATMs and they only give out twenties.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

Me: “I don’t know. I guess the banks just think that people really just need twenties.”

Customer: *frustrated* “Wait, why are we talking about banks?”

Me: “I don’t know, you brought it up.”

Customer: “I don’t want two fives, I want a ten!”

Me: “Go ask at customer service. They might have some.”

Customer: “Why do you think that is?”

(I call the manager who gets the guy his ten. He finally leaves after asking me again if the socks were on sale.)

Low Class, High Class, Still An A**

, , | Right | February 16, 2008

(A customer is sitting in front of a display, reading a book.)

Coworker: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t sit in front of our displays.”

Customer: “I have to sit here because the customers over there are sending me bad energy.”

Coworker: “Uh, okay…”

(Coworker walks over to me.)

Coworker: “Your turn.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you can’t sit in front of our displays.”

Customer: “I’m not low-class you know!”

(I walk away stunned. After a while, the customer finally gets up and walks toward the cashier.)

Customer: “I have a complaint about two of your staff members. They called me low-class. I’m not low-class–I’m almost forty!”