Customer: “Hi, can you tell me about your Educator Appreciation Weekend?

Me: “Sure! Teachers normally get 20% off on things they buy for their classroom.”

Customer: “Okay, so how do I prove that I’m a teacher?”

Me: “Do you have a pay stub from your school?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have a school ID?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have a card from a teacher’s union?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have a medical insurance card that shows that you’re on an educator plan?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Maybe a vision or dental insurance card?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have a business card?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have any letters from the school or district to you?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Is there a number I could call to verify your employment with a school?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have anything, anything at all, with both your name on it, and the name of some kind of school or educational organization?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Well, I’m stumped. I can’t think of any other way that you could show that you’re a teacher.”

Customer: “Wow, you really don’t make this easy for us, do you?”

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Me: “Hello, how may I help today?”

Caller: “Yeah, your [Software] isn’t working. It’s a virus.”

Me: “Okay, sir. What do you mean, it’s a virus?”

Caller: “Every time I put the disc in, I get a message from the computer.”

Me: “What kind of message?”

Caller: “I don’t read it. It’s a warning message so I click ‘no.’”

Me: “Okay, can you insert the disc and tell me the message?”

Caller: “Sure.”

Me: “What does it say, sir?”

Caller: “Would you like to install…” *reads name of software* “… on your…” *click*

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(A mother approaches me with her daughter.)

Customer: “I’m hosting some of my daughters’ friends for the night and I couldn’t find your condoms.” *puts her hand on her daughter’s head* “Lucy is turning 13.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You know, condoms! Ketchup and mustard. We’re having a BBQ. It’s simple. Where are they?”

Me: “Oh! Condiments.”

Customer: “Yes, condoms. Where are they?”

This story is part of our Tongue-Tied Customers roundup!

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Me: “Hi, [Pizza Place].”

Customer: “Hi, it says you have a nine-inch small pizza. How big is that?”

Me: “Nine inches; six slices.”

Customer: “But how big is it?”

Me: “The diameter of the pizza is approximately nine inches. There are six slices.”

Customer: “Like, okay, but you already told me that. How big is it?”

Me: “I’m not sure what other metric to use. The pie is slightly smaller across than a third of a meter.”

Customer: *brief pause* “Okay, what size is the medium?”

Me: “Twelve inches; six slices.”

Customer: *another brief pause* “The small has six, too. So, they’re the same size?!”

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(I’m ringing up a young couple for a video game. The girlfriend asks about the game and the boyfriend describes it to her.)

Boyfriend: “[In the game] you’re one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.”

Girlfriend: “Which one?”

Boyfriend: “War.”

Girlfriend: “Who are the others?”

Boyfriend: “Famine, Pestilence, and Plague.”

Girlfriend: “Who makes this s*** up?!”

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