(My husband has recently taken to wearing a kilt. This happens soon after at a bookstore.)
Customer: “Oh, I like your skirt!”
Husband: “Um, it’s a kilt.”
Customer: “Oh, I’m sorry. I just wanted to say I support your lifestyle.” *facepalms* “I’m just making it worse, aren’t I?”
(There is a pharmacy in the same building as my doctor’s office, but it opens at 8:30 rather than 8:00 as the office does. It has a metal gate across the entrance when closed, just like most stores in a mall do. I come in just after 8:00 and am waiting for my turn when a woman comes out from her appointment with a prescription sheet and starts hovering right in front of the pharmacy gate.)
Woman: *to the employee inside who is obviously trying to set up to open* “Excuse me… Excuse me!”
Employee: “Yes?”
Woman: “Are you open yet?”
Employee: *slight pause* “No. That’s why the gate is closed and the lights are off.”
Woman: “Oh.” *wanders away*
(Everyone else in the waiting room was trying not to laugh. Really, how much more obvious do you need it to be?)
Related:
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 29
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 28
Not Very Closed Minded, Part 27
(I am pregnant with my second child, working as a cashier. It is not long before my due date. I am ringing a woman through when she asks for cigarettes. I have to leave my till to get them behind another till, maybe ten feet away. While I wobble, she turns and looks at my backside, even turning her head. Then, she informs my coworker at the next till:)
Customer: “She’s having a boy. I can tell because of how fat her a** has gotten.”
(I come back and finish up the transaction while my coworker and her customers stare at the woman with their mouths literally open. As soon as she walks out the door, my coworker’s customer, who is also a regular, says:)
Regular: “What a b****! I don’t care what the reason is; never comment on a pregnant woman’s a**!” *to me* “Sweetheart, ignore her! You are beautiful, and good for you for working so long.”
Me: *confused* “Thank you.”
(As soon as both customers have left, my coworker explains what happened, and we spend the next several hours laughing about it. About four hours later:)
Me: “Oh, my God. I just realized something!”
Coworker: “What?”
Me: “For her to know how big my a** has gotten means she had to have been checking it out before.”
Coworker: “Okay, that just went from funny to creepy.”
(I am the idiot customer in this story. The legal drinking age in Canada is nineteen, so it is quite common to have a fake ID when younger in order to get into bars and clubs. I am fifteen and have just gotten my first fake ID, and my friends and I are going to our first ever bar to celebrate. The sign at the bar reads, “Highballs on special $5.00.” Now, being fifteen, I have no idea what a highball is, and I assume it is the name of a specific cocktail or something like that.)
Me: “I’ll have one highball, please!”
(The large, burly, bartender looks at me suspiciously.)
Bartender: “Okay… Which one?”
Me: “Just… just one highball. The highball?”
Bartender: “Yes, and which highball, exactly, do you want?”
Me: *becoming totally flustered and trying to read the sign again for the name of a specific highball* “The sign says highballs are on special! I… I want that… from the sign! The… normal highball!”
Bartender: *clearly exasperated* “Miss, you can’t just walk in and order ‘a highball.’ That’s like walking into an ice cream shop and ordering ‘an ice cream.’ There’s vanilla, chocolate, pistachio, mint—”
Me: *completely flushed now, embarrassed, and terrified that I will be thrown out of the bar any minute now, in a shrill voice* “VANILLA, THEN! I’LL TAKE A VANILLA HIGHBALL!”
(A wealthy-looking, middle-aged woman comes into the nail salon while I’m waiting for my appointment.)
Customer: “Hello. I’m here for my one o’clock appointment with [Nail Tech].”
Receptionist: “Okay, if I could just get your name, please?”
Customer: “It’s [Customer].”
Receptionist: “Oh, no, it looks like you’re late for your appointment.”
Customer: *laughs, thinking the receptionist is joking* “I know it’s 1:10 right now, but you know how it can just get so busy!”
Receptionist: “No, I mean your appointment was booked for noon.”
Customer: “No, it wasn’t. I know for a fact that it was one o’clock.”
Manager: *takes over* “Ma’am, it’s written right here as being booked for 12:00 pm.”
Customer: “No, look.” *pulls out smartphone* “I have it written down here as… Oh. Oh, well. I guess the appointment was for noon. But I still need [Nail Tech] to do my mani-pedi now.”
Manager: “Ma’am, I’m very sorry, but [Nail Tech] is booked up all day. However, we can have another employee help you at this time.”
Customer: “No, that won’t do. I must have [Nail Tech]. Anyone else is a waste of my time and money!”
Manager: “Well, we can book a new appointment with [Nail Tech] for another day.”
Customer: “No. I have a party tonight and I need my nails done before then! Can’t you just… give me someone else’s appointment with [Nail Tech], and schedule them with someone else?”
Manager: *starting to get impatient* “No, ma’am, we can’t do that.”
Customer: “You should have called me, then! I live only a couple of blocks away! If you’d have called me when I missed my appointment, then I would have been here on time!”
Manager: “We would have called you, ma’am, but you never gave us your phone number.”
Customer: “Well, I never! I guess I just won’t have my nails done for my dinner, then! I hope you feel bad about this!” *storms off in a huff*
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