Not Quite A Fountain Of Common Sense

, , , , , , | Right | January 22, 2018

(I work at a well-known pizza chain. One of our customers, a lady in her mid-thirties, is a fairly regular visitor. She often makes strange or outrageous requests, but today she targets me specifically. She comes up to the counter to pay for her dine-in order.)

Me: “How was everything?”

Customer: *grumbles*

Me: *after scanning her credit card* “Okay, all I need is your signature, and you’ll be all set!”

Customer: “I can’t sign with that pen.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Your pen. It isn’t legal.”

(My pen is a fountain pen that I bring from home, because it writes more consistently and smoothly on receipts. As far as I know, there aren’t pen restrictions in my line of work.)

Me: “Not legal?”

Customer: “Yes! You can’t make me pay if I sign with that! I need one like I use in the bank!”

Me: “Okay… Do you have such a pen with you?”

Customer: “No! I need a bank pen! Yours isn’t legal!”

Me: “I’m afraid this is the only type of pen I have available at the moment. If you happen to have another, you’re more than welcome to use it.”

Customer: “Stop being stupid! I don’t carry a bank pen!”

Me: “Then, I’m afraid that my pen is your only choice.”

Customer: “But it isn’t legal!”

(She dug around in her purse and pulled out a pencil. I don’t think she knew that signatures in pencil are even less “legal.” Interestingly, in all the times I’ve seen her since, she’s had nothing to say about my pen.)

Have A Go(o)d Day

, , , , , | Right | January 20, 2018

(I am a key holder at a small grocery and retail store. A woman walks up to the cash register to pay.)

Me: “Hi, how are you?”

Customer: “Great! I am good! Life is great!”

Me: “Great.” *starts to scan items*

Customer: “Speak it the truth! Don’t listen to the devil, for the devil will lead you astray. Come unto God and listen to him, not to what the devil must say.”

Me: *stares at her while scanning items, hits total* “Your total is [total]. Thanks, have a nice day!”

Another Customer: “Do you know her?”

Me: “No… I just asked how her day was.”

Killing Kindness

, , , , , , | Friendly | January 20, 2018

(I’m bored waiting for the rest of my family to go to the bathroom and buy snacks, so I decide to try a toy dispenser, like a gumball machine, that gives you a tiny toy inside a clear plastic ball. After I get a toy, a woman comes up with two small children, about five years old. The mother gives each child a coin to get a toy, but the machine the daughter uses doesn’t work and she starts crying.)

Woman: “Well, I don’t have any more loose change! You’ll just have to share with your brother.”

Boy: “No! It’s mine!”

Me: *to the woman* “Excuse me. I just got this from the machine and I don’t really want it. Your daughter can have it, if you want.”

Woman: “What did you just say?”

Me: “I got this from the machine. I think it’s a toy tiger. I haven’t opened it, so I thought you might want it for your daughter, because…”

Woman: *suddenly shouting* “Mind your own f****** business. Why the f*** are you watching my kids, you pervert?”

(I was a baby-faced 13-year-old girl, not your typical “pervert.” I just wanted to help an upset kid and stressed-out mum)

You’re Just Shopping, They’re Just Trippin’

, , , , , , , , | Right | January 20, 2018

(I work in a large retail chain in Australia. As it is currently summer here, my long work pants are really hot. I’m in the store I work in, after my shift — so, still dressed in uniform — looking for a suitable skirt to buy and wear on my shifts and not boil my legs. A lady approaches me.)

Customer: “Could you help me find [pants] in size 12?”

Me: “Of course. Let me check the tag.”

(I find the pants quite quickly and show her we have sizes 6-22 — in Australian sizes this basically means there would be a pair to fit the vast majority of people — while handing her size 12.)

Customer: “And what about the top I asked for?”

(I’m certain she said nothing about a top to me, and she refuses to “repeat” herself. I tell her that in that case, there’s nothing more I can do for her and continue my own shopping. She doesn’t say anything but follows me around for the full ten minutes it takes me to find a suitable skirt. It’s pretty creepy.)

Customer: “Carrying that handbag, you almost look like you’re shopping!” *laughs*

Me: “I am shopping.”

Customer: *laughs*

(I’m apparently hilarious without even knowing it.)

Customer: *whining* “I really need that top!”

(I directed her to speak to my manager at the fitting rooms. She demanded my help. I repeated that my shift was finished, I really was just shopping, and I was helping her out of the goodness of my heart and without being paid. She complained to my very short-tempered manager about my “conduct,” and the manager reaffirmed that I was shopping, not working. This set off the ultimate conundrum in the customer’s mind and she got more and more agitated until she was removed by security for attempting to cut people with disposable razors. It was the craziest thing I’d ever seen. My coworkers and I still lunge at each other with [packaged, completely harmless] disposable razors for a joke.)

Not A Winner; Wait, Scratch That

, , , | Right | January 19, 2018

(There’s a woman who always comes in at seven in the morning with scratch-lotto tickets. She’s not very friendly.)

Customer: *gives me a ten dollar scratch off and a $20 bill* “I want another one of these and a [twenty dollar ticket].”

(I look at the ticket and notice only the barcode is scratched off on the front. I hand it back to her.)

Me: “Ma’am, this isn’t scratched off.”

Customer: “I don’t scratch them.”

(I know she does because the last time I opened and she got a few tickets from us, I watched her scratch them in her car.)

Customer: “I want another one of these and [$20 ticket].”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know how much you’ve won if you haven’t scratched it off.”

Customer: *referring to the lotto machine we have across from the register* “Use the machine.”

(I work mornings alone and I’d only been working there for about three weeks, so I didn’t want to fight her about this, and I couldn’t have my manager do anything about it. I scanned the ticket and entered the security code, and I was just hoping it wasn’t a winner. But by some stroke of luck on her part, it was a $10 winner. I went about ringing her up on it, then for the next ten minutes I was dumbfounded, wondering what witchcraft she used to know that ticket was a winner.)

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