A Case of Mistaken Bikentity

| Spokane, WA, USA | Friendly | May 25, 2015

(My outgoing and friendly toddler daughter and I are at the check stand; she’s sitting in the cart. I’ve unloaded and the cashier is scanning my items. It’s very busy and kind of noisy, but the following takes place during one of those silences that sometimes happen in crowds.)

Daughter: *looking over my shoulder with a huge grin* ‘HEY, LADY!’

(The cashier looks up and freezes, going dead pale. The bagger looks up and does the same. The customer before me, picking up his bags, looks up and takes a quick step backward. At this point, I’m worried, but I turn around to see a 6’6″ biker, in colors, tattooed everywhere, with a full mustache and beard, and hair down to his butt. His mouth is hanging open; he’s clearly in shock.)

Me: ‘Um, she’s still a little shaky on the man/woman thing. Sorry…”

Biker: ‘BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I guess I’ve been called a lot worse! BWAHAHAHA!’

Daughter: “BWAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Me: *and everyone else, silently* “Whew!”

Should Have It Pinned Down By Now, Part 2

| Williamstown, NJ, USA | Right | May 25, 2015

Customer: “How do I do credit?”

Me: “Just hit ‘credit’ when the options pop up on the pin pad. Then when it asks for a pin number, don’t enter anything, just hit the green button.”

(The customer reaches the pin pad option and enters a series of numbers. After a moment, the card is declined.)

Me: “I’m sorry, did you want credit?”

Customer: “Yes?”

Me: “Don’t enter any numbers; just hit the green button when it asks for your pin.”

(Again the pin prompt comes up, and again she enters numbers; nine of them.)

Me: “Ma’am, what are you typing?”

Customer: “My phone number!”

Me: “Your… phone number?”

Customer: “That’s how I always do it!”

Related:
Should Have It Pinned Down By Now

More Than Just Lip Service

| CA, USA | Friendly | May 23, 2015

(I’m a little kid at this time, and I used to love pushing the shopping cart around. Since I was little, I stood on the bottom of the cart to put my chin on the handle, but sadly, this time, I slip and bite the bottom of my lip extremely hard.)

Me: “Daddy! It hurts!” *holding my profusely bleeding lip*

Dad: “Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!” *proceeds to fumble around in pockets trying to find a handkerchief*

Nice Lady: “Oh, are you all right?” *comes rushing up* “Here, you can have mine.”

(She hands my dad her handkerchief, which he then pushes up against my lip, attempting to stop the bleeding.)

Dad: “Thank you so much! Would it be all right if I asked for your number, to return your handkerchief once it’s washed?”

Nice Lady: “Oh, no, that’s all right; keep it. Your daughter certainly seems to need it more than I do.”

(She was so nice! I’ve had a hunk of scar tissue in my bottom lip ever since, and developed the habit of chewing on it when I’m stressed. Whenever I do, I think of her, and just how much a stranger’s help can mean to someone in need.)

Couldn’t Care Less Than Thirty

| Tampere, Finland | Working | May 20, 2015

(I’m a 22-year old woman, picking up a packet of cigarettes. In Finland you can buy them at 18, but in order to spot underage buyers there’s a new government policy encouraging cashiers to check the IDs of anyone that looks under 30.)

Me: “Could I have a [Brand of cigarettes], please.”

Cashier: *rings it up* “That’ll be €4.50.”

Me: *pointing to the counter between us with a sign explaining the under-30 policy* “Umm, do I look like I’m 30 to you?”

Cashier: “…I don’t really care.”

Pudding Up With Him

| PA, USA | Romantic | May 20, 2015

(My fiancé is going to have his wisdom teeth removed, so I take him grocery shopping to buy soft foods he likes. He is not happy about it.)

Me: “How about some pudding? You like pudding.”

Fiancé: “Oh, yeah! Okay, pudding. What kind of pudding don’t you like?”

Me: “DON’T I like? Well, I like most kinds. Banana is pretty awful, though.”

(He grabs three boxes of banana pudding.)

Fiancé: “Okay, then I want banana. I don’t want you eating any of my pudding!”

(A girl behind us starts laughing.)

Me: *to her* “Yes, this is the man I’m marrying. Isn’t he sweet?”

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