I work at the front desk at a hotel. A car pulls into the driveway and a guy gets out and enters the lobby.

Me: “Hello, are you checking in?”

Guy: “I am here to pick up my food delivery. Is this [Taqueria]?”

Me: “No, this is a hotel. The taqueria is two blocks away.”

Guy: “My GPS says it’s here and I want my food.”

Me: “There must have been a mixup in the address. I can give you directions to the taqueria. It’s very close — only about a two-minute drive.”

Guy: “My GPS doesn’t lie! I want my burrito and tacos! You need to give me my order!”

I point to the giant sign above me with the hotel name.

Me: “Sir, I can assure you this is a hotel, and [Taqueria] is not in this building. But if you drive to your left—”

He cuts me off and yells.

Guy: “Fine! I’ll find it myself!” *Storms to his car*

Related:
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 7
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 6
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 5
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 4
GPS: Great Practitioners Of Stupidity, Part 3

I’m working tech support and get a very angry guy. This is during the pre-mobile internet days.

Caller: “Why won’t my home wireless router cover me in California?!”

Me: “Because you’re in Texas, sir.”

Caller: *Livid.* “So I can’t even use it on the plane from Texas to California?”

Me: “Best I can guarantee you is the end of your front yard.”

The caller was NOT happy!

Our summer frozen dessert stand has a tropical theme. There is a signpost with arrows and distances pointing to various distant beaches and other vacation destinations. One says, “Tahiti — 6,089 miles.”

Teenager #1: “Tahiti. What’s that?”

Teenager #2: “I think it’s some kind of sauce made from sesame seeds.”

Customer: “I’ll take half a pound of ham.”

Me: “Sure! Here you go!”

Customer: “The tag says local.”

The sign actually says, “Regional.”

Me: “Well, it’s regional. It’s coming out of Georgia.”

Customer: *Long pause* “That’s South Carolina, right?”

I’m working in a cute little Vietnamese sandwich place and, like all cultural food places, it does have food and ingredients that are traditionally known in other Asian cultures. A white man walks in wearing a business suit, his head held high, and there’s this haughtiness about him that I notice as soon as he walks up to my register. He takes a long look at the menu and then makes a show of observing all of our extra snacks and drinks.

Customer: “So… this is Vietnamese food.”

Me: “Yes, it is!”

Customer: “But your sandwich up there has Kimchi.”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “That’s Korean, you know.”

Me: “Yes, I know.”

Customer: “And your snacks here are all Japanese.”

Me: “I suppose. Cultures tend to mix, you know. Our main focus is the menu.”

He stares at me suspiciously.

Customer: “You’re not Vietnamese, are you?”

Me: “No, actually, I’m half-Samoan.”

He nods, although I’m not sure if my answer is satisfactory for him. 

Customer: “Cool, cool. I didn’t think you were. I know all of this stuff because I spent a couple of years in Vietnam on business trips.”

I just nod and smile. He picks up a small plastic case with a brownie.

Customer: “Wow, you sell brownies, too! I didn’t know brownies could be Vietnamese.”

Me: *Slightly irked* “Well, a Vietnamese lady made them, so I suppose that’s what makes them Vietnamese.”

Customer: “Hmm.” *Put the brownie down* “I suppose you have a point.”

I tried to break the awkwardness by suggesting some of our popular items off our menu, and I recommended the Pho since that was basically our star item for anybody who is familiar with Vietnamese culture and food, all of which were ignored. After another minute of him just staring at the menu above me, he turned and left without buying anything.