Un-American Idiots

| Italy | Right | August 17, 2013

(I work at a pretty popular furniture store. A girl and her friend come in. After looking around for a bit and giggling to themselves, the girls come up to me.)

Girl #1: “Hi. Yeah… we… like… we wanted to know… do you guys sell band members here?”

Me: “Sorry, what?”

Girl #1: “Yeah! Band members! Like, you know, people who are in bands and play music?”

Me: “Oh! No, we don’t really sell band posters, sorry.”

Girl #1: “No! Not posters! We want band members!”

Me: “What? You mean you want me to sell you the actual band members? As in the actual people who play in the band?”

Both Girls: “Yeah!”

Me: “I’m sorry… I don’t think we have any in stock, and we’re probably not going to get some anytime soon. Actually, I think no store will have what you’re looking for, girls.”

Girl #1: “Aw, really?”

Girl #2: “Come on… Are you sure? Not even clones?”

Me: “Yeah, I think the most you will find will be posters and band merchandise. With pictures of them, maybe, but not the actual people. I’m very sorry.”

Both Girls: “Aw… it’s okay; sorry for bothering you.”

(As they walk away, I overhear them talking.)

Girl #2: “Aw, I really wanted a Billie Joe Armstrong.”

Girl #1: “Yeah… I guess our best bet is asking Adrienne if she’s willing to share.”

Girl #2: “Yep, we should do it. I mean, it’s like… It’s not like I want to marry him or something. I just want to be his friend. and cuddle with him, and pet his hair. Don’t forget about petting his hair.”

Girl #1: “Same here! Hmm, you know what this means, right?”

Girl #2: “Yeah. Let’s ask her on both Twitter and Instagram until she finally answers.”

(My manager has heard everything, and comes over to me laughing. We’re both huge Green Day fans.)

Manager: “Oh, God… Were they… really?

Me: “Yeah.”

(My manager starts singing to the tune of the chorus of the song “Stray Heart”.)

Manager: “Everything that they want, they want from him, but they just can’t have him. Everything that they need, they need from therapy, but they won’t realize it.”

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My Coworker Is An Airhead

| Orlando, FL, USA | Working | May 22, 2013

(My coworker is filling balloons with helium to decorate our furniture store.)

Coworker #1: “Did you know that if you fill one of those balloons with twice as much helium, it’ll be twice as weightless?”

Coworker #2: “Really?”

Coworker #1: “Yep!”

Me: “Um, you know that helium isn’t truly weightless, don’t you? It may become more buoyant, but it isn’t ever weightless.”

Coworker #1: “That’s not true. Helium is weightless. How else would it make the balloon float? So it stands to reason that twice as much would be twice as weightless!”

Me: “No, weightless means zero weight. By your logic, twice zero is zero, but helium isn’t weightless. It’s simply that helium is lighter than the gases comprising air. Take the example of a bubble rising to the surface of water because the water is heavier than air.”

Coworker #1: “But air doesn’t have weight either! Can you feel it?” ”

(To demonstrates his point, he fans the air in front of himself.)

Coworker #1: *triumphantly* “NO!”

Me: *facepalm*

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It’s Taking Extra-Long For This Clerk To Figure It Out

| WA, USA | Working | April 10, 2013

(My parents are buying furniture for their new home. My dad wanders off to look at sofas, while mom goes to buy a bed. Note:  Mom is 4’11”.)

Mom:  “Hi! I’d like to buy an extra-long bed.”

Clerk: “You don’t need an extra-long bed. Let me show you our regular beds.”

Mom:  “No, you don’t understand. I DO need an extra-long bed!”

Clerk:  “Ma’am, I don’t want to disagree with a customer, but you clearly do NOT need an extra-long bed.”

Mom:  “Please, will you just show me the extra-long beds?”

Clerk:  “Ma’am, I keep telling you, you don’t need an extra-long bed!”

(At this point my dad shows up… all 6’3″ of him. He walks over to Mom and puts his arm around her.)

Clerk: “You need an extra-long bed!”

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The Cat Is Out Of The Bag

| USA | Right | April 5, 2013

(A customer is buying furniture to be delivered and assembled by our tech.)

Customer: “I have cats, so whoever you send over must not be allergic.”

Me: “No problem, ma’am.”

Customer: “Make sure he’s a vegetarian, too.”

Me: “Um…”

Customer: “He has to have brown hair, and an earring, but no tattoos. He needs to be good at sports.”

Me: “I don’t think we can do all that.”

Customer: “He needs to know a language other than English.”

Me: “You’re just kidding, right?”

Customer: “Yes. Just stick with the no cat allergy request.”

Me: “Alright then.”

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Put This Con To Bed

| WA, Australia | Right | March 8, 2013

Customer: “I am looking for some cheap beds for my sons.”

(I look at the two boys the customer has brought with her. One is about 6 years old and very slim, while the other is approximately 13 and massive.)

Me: “Well, for the little one we have this model…”

(I show her the cheapest mesh base in the store.)

Me: “…and for the older boy, we have this model.”

(I show her a heavy duty reinforced model that is $60 more.)

Customer: “No, I will take two of the cheaper beds, thanks.”

Me: “The cheaper model will not stand up to any punishment from the older child.”

Customer: “No, he isn’t mine. My other son is with a friend and he is about the same size as the little fella.” *points to the slim 6 year old*

Me: “Okay, but if this is for the older child, we won’t fix any damage he does and won’t refund or replace it.”

Customer: “Are you calling me a liar?”

Me: “No, I just want you to be aware that it’s not designed for older children.”

Customer: “Well, it won’t be for an older kid, you idiot.”

(I take the customer to counter with receipt and warn the manager of her after she departs. Two days later, the customer returns with a broken bed and the two same boys.)

Customer: “I got this bed two days ago and one is already broken.”

Me: “Did the older kid jump on it?”

Customer: “No, you bloody idiot! I told you it wasn’t for him.”

Me: “Okay then, just go to the front counter and they will arrange a refund.”

(The customer walks from the warehouse to the front desk. Meanwhile, I talk to the 6-year-old son.)

Me: *to the 6 year old* “Did your big brother jump on the bed?”

6-year-old Son: “Yeah, he cracked a sad, jumped on his bed, threw it against the wall and broke it. Now mum has to get a new one so she brought it back.”

(I walk to the front counter and tell the administration staff to cancel the order.)

Me: *to the customer* “Please come and collect your broken bed from the warehouse.”

Customer: “Why the h*** do I want the broken bed back? I came here for a refund!”

Me: “Luckily, your son is more honest than you are. He told me the truth about the bed, and we aren’t a disposal service for other people’s rubbish.”

Customer: “F*** you!”

Me: “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

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