The Volvo Auto Shop Is Getting A Lot Of Weird Questions Lately

, , , , | | Romantic | May 29, 2019

(I’m reading a health magazine while my husband and I are eating breakfast.)

Me: *reading from magazine* “Who can you ask if you have questions about the care of your vulva?”

Husband: “A vulva mechanic?”

Tis The Season For Idiots

, , , , , | | Right | May 29, 2019

(I work as an expediter at a famous restaurant chain. Guests can request fries to be salt-free if they have an allergy.)

Server: “Hey, I need you guys to make this pound of fries no-salt. She says she has allergies.”

Me: “Can you find out what her allergy is?”

(The server leaves and then returns, smirking.)

Server: “She says the doctor diagnosed her with seasonal allergies. So no seasoning on any of her food.”

I Feel Good, I Hear Not So Much

, , , , , , | | Friendly | May 28, 2019

My friend’s boyfriend is deaf but prefers to read lips rather than sign. I was at his graduation party, and he was reading the cards and opening the gifts in front of a few of us. He came across one card from one of my friend’s relatives.

When he opened the card, James Brown’s “I Feel Good” started playing. Some of us chuckled, some of us danced and sang. The boyfriend asked what was going on. We explained that it was a singing card, and he politely chuckled and thanked the relative, who wasn’t present that day.

Another friend turned to me and said, “Did they really give a music card to a deaf guy?”

Not Even A Handful

, , , , | | Right | May 27, 2019

(It’s a fairly quiet day in electronics when the phone rings. I answer it.)

Me: “Electronics! Can I help you find something?”

Customer: “Well, good morning! I was wondering if you could help me find a new cartridge of ink for my printer!”

Me: “Certainly, ma’am! Do you have the old cartridge with you? Tell me the number and I’ll check our inventory.”

Customer: “Well, I can’t open the printer to check. The problem is I don’t have any hands, so it’s very difficult for me. Is there another way we can find my ink?”

Me: “Uh… Yeah, sure.”

(I brush off her comment, thinking I misheard, and ask her for the model number of the printer. She is having difficulty locating it.)

Customer: “Oh, this just isn’t working. If you can hang on for a moment I’ll see if there’s some way I can jimmy it open, because I don’t have any hands.”

Me: “That won’t be necessa–”

(I am interrupted by the sound of the phone clattering to the floor, and an almighty racket of crashing and thudding.)

Customer: “I’m very sorry about that, but I managed to open the printer without hands and find the ink number!”

(She gives me the number. I find the appropriate box and, discovering it’s the last one, I offer to put it aside for her. I take down her name while instructing her to come to pick it up before the store closes.)

Customer: “Well, thank you, young lady; however, would it be possible for me to come in tomorrow to purchase the ink? I already don’t have any hands, and honestly, I don’t have any legs, either. Traveling is quite difficult, and I won’t be able to receive a ride until tomorrow.”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Would that be all right?”

(Completely unsure if this is a prank, or if I’m just not hearing her correctly, I give up.)

Me: “Yes, that’s fine, ma’am. I’ll probably be here; find me at the register and I’ll get your ink.”

(She thanks me, delighted. I put her out of my mind. The day passes with no issue. The next morning, I hear a voice beckoning me. I look down the main aisle and, sure enough, here comes an elderly woman being pushed in a wheelchair… who seems to have no legs past her knees, and no hands.)

Customer: “Good morning, miss! I believe you have some ink for me?”

Me: “Yes. Why, yes. I have it right here for you.”

Customer: *utterly delighted* “Thank you so very much for helping me! I can’t tell you how many places have hung up on me when I called to ask for that ink! It appears no one has manners anymore. I’d shake your hand but, well…” *holds up her stumps and shrugs* “You know. No hands.”

Ill Behavior

, , , , , | | Right | May 24, 2019

(My coworker told me this story while we were talking about parents’ tendency to bring extremely ill children shopping with them during cold and flu season. A woman and a young boy come to my coworker’s register, and the boy is rather pale and very obviously does not look well. The customer sets him on the counter while she orders.)

Child: “Mommy, I’m gonna throw up.”

Customer: “You’re fine, [Child]. You just need food is all.”

Coworker: *not wanting an incident involving a sick child* “The bathrooms are right over there if he’s not feeling—“

(The customer’s food arrives and she grabs a fry and stuffs it in the kid’s mouth. He weakly tries to eat it but ends up vomiting all over the counter.)

Customer: “[Child], that’s disgusting! You won’t be watching any TV tonight, since you made a mess that this nice lady had to clean up.”

(The child started to cry, and the mom made the poor kid wait while she sat and ate her food. And of course, the woman didn’t lift a finger to help clean up the mess.)

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