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Stupidity In Full Bloom

, , , , | Right | July 21, 2021

I work for a gardening company that has multiple companies under it. I work in a chat for all the companies and usually just answer typical gardener questions.

Visitor: “Hi, I have a question about one of your items.”

Me: “Absolutely! How may I assist you today?”

Visitor: “I see here on this iris, it says it comes packaged as ten per package. So how many will I get in each package?”

I have to read the question a few times to be sure I understand. 

Me: “For every 1 (one) package of that iris, you will receive 10 (ten) of the irises.”

Visitor: “But how many exactly?”

Me: “You will receive exactly ten irises.”

Visitor: “I don’t think you understand. If I want one order, how many irises will I receive?”

Me: “If you order one order, you will get ten. If you order two orders, you will get twenty. Multiply each other by ten, and that’s the number of Irises you will receive.”

Visitor: “That doesn’t work if you multiply it by zero.”

Me: “I am very sorry for the confusion, but it does work; if you order zero orders you will receive zero irises.”

Visitor: “I didn’t come here to do math, I came to garden, and you are no help!”

They then disconnected the chat. I still don’t know what I could have said to help.

The Lawnmower Ma’am

, , , | Right | April 16, 2021

My dad asks my mom to go to the store and get new tires for the lawnmower.

Mom: “Hello, I need some tires for my husband’s lawnmower.”

Worker: “No problem, what kind of lawnmower do you have?”

Mom: “A red one.”

My father learned to do the hardware shopping himself.

She’s Not Berry Nice

, , | Right | April 15, 2021

I work at a botanical center. It’s beautiful and any food grown there is donated to food banks and people in need. It’s also a tasting garden where you can learn what you like and how to grow it. We encourage people to walk through the gardens whenever as long as they’re respectful.

We have a lot of raspberry and blueberry cultivars that we like to show off. The patch needs some weeding, so I am in the thickets and thorns with my gloves, a giant bucket, pruners, a hat, earbuds, the works. I’m sticking halfway out of the bushes when I get a tap on my foot; there’s a lady in the garden. I’ll happily answer questions about the gardens, but her mouth is already moving and she looks very angry. 

Me: “I’m sorry. Excuse me one second while I turn off my music.”


Keep in mind I’m pulling weeds, dripping sweat in the heat, AND I’m wearing clothes with the garden’s logo and name.

Me: “Yes, I do, I’m the intern. What can I help you with?”

Lady: “If you’re only the intern, then never mind. You can’t help me at all. You probably don’t know anything about these raspberries.”

Me: “Actually, I know a lot about the gardens, and I’m going to college just for stuff like this. I can try to answer any questions.”

Lady: “Well, all right. Fine. Why don’t you harvest the raspberries?”

Me: “They get harvested once or twice a week as much as we can; we don’t have a lot of staff to handle a full harvest.”

Lady: “They’re supposed to be harvested every days. You aren’t doing it right and it’s not healthy.”

Both of her statements are wrong, and the raspberries are very healthy.

Me: “I wish we could do that, but we just don’t have the manpower, and the food banks only take our produce once a week, so it doesn’t go bad.”

Lady: “Food banks? That’s just a waste, and it’s so bad for the plants. Maybe I’ll just come by with my truck and buckets and harvest them all for myself.”

Me: “Ma’am, that’s very disrespectful. You’re welcome to try some of the berries, but please don’t harvest them when others need them.”

Lady: “Well, who’s gonna stop me, huh?”

My boss has come out to check on me and make sure I am doing okay and not passed out in the berries from the heat, and she has overheard the last of the conversation. She’s already had problems with people harvesting food and looks furious. I wave and smile at her and start putting my earbuds back in.

Me: “Ma’am, you’re right. I can’t stop you. After all, I am just the intern.”

The last thing I heard before starting my music was my boss starting to give this lady an earful about a treeful of peaches that had gone missing right before we were going to harvest them.

Can We At Least Agree That Herbs Are Good?

, , , | Right | December 2, 2020

I’m a cashier at a garden center. I also happen to practice witchcraft. A middle-aged woman comes up to my register with a bunch of plants to purchase. Everything is going fine and I’m checking her out as normal.

Me: “Oh, cool, herbs! I grow herbs, too!”

Customer: “What do you use them for?”

I’m a pretty open guy, and she asked, so I tell her.

Me: “Witchcraft and cooking!”

Customer: “Oh, okay.”

There is silence between us.

Customer: “How does that work?”

At this point, I’m really excited that someone is open to learning about my “taboo” beliefs.

Me: “Oh, well, I’ll use them to make incense, or I’ll make an oil with them to rub on candles and other things!”

The customer nods attentively. Then, with wide eyes and the most serious, expressive, shocked voice I’ve heard in retail, says:

Customer: “Have you heard of Jesus Christ?

I’m shocked but maintain composure.

Me: “Yes, I have. In fact, I was raised Lutheran.”

Customer: *Absolutely stunned* “WHAT HAPPENED?”

I’m doing my best not to offend her. She’s my customer, after all.

Me: “Uh, I just… examined my beliefs… and found them… to not fit how I see the world.”

Customer: “Then where do you go when you die?”

Me: *Pause* “Nowhere?”

The customer gave me a horrified look and began spouting on about my “satanic” practices. I twisted my upper body in a full 180 degrees, made eye contact with my manager, and mouthed, “HELP.” She promptly came over to help. Suddenly, the conversation dissipated into silence and everything went back to how it had been, if slightly more tense. I finished checking the lady out and she left.

If I’ve seen her again, I haven’t known it. Never did I think I’d be asked in America if I know who Jesus Christ is!

Math Is Your Friend, Part 5

, , , | Right | October 27, 2020

We sell a variety of patio and paver stones of different sizes and prices. A customer comes to the register with a cartload of what are called mini flagstone blocks for building walls.

Customer: “I have forty of these blocks.”

Me: “Okay.”

I type in the product code. It enters and scans the price at $1.38 each. I also enter a quantity of forty.

Customer: “Wait, that’s wrong. They’re not $1.38. They’re five for $10.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Customer: “Those blocks; last week they were five for $10.00.”

Me: “But, ma’am, they’re only scanning for $1.38 each.”

Customer: “But that’s wrong.”

Me: “We have a larger size that was on sale last week. Is it possible you got those?”

Customer: “No, I got these and they were five for $10.”

Me: “Do you want to pay $.62 more for each block? If you want to, I guess I could change the price.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Five for $10 is $2.00 a piece, 62 cents more.”

Customer: “What? I guess not.”

She finishes the sale and leaves, still mumbling about something being wrong with the price.

Next Customer: “And I thought my math skills were bad. Just so you know, I don’t want to pay more than the price that scans.”

Me: “I think I can handle that all right.”

I wondered if she called the manager to complain that I was going to charge her the cheaper price. I hope she figured it out eventually.

Math Is Your Friend, Part 4
Math Is Your Friend, Part 3
Math Is Your Friend, Part 2
Math Is Your Friend