Bookstore customer: “Do you have the CD, Lord Lift Our Voices Up On High, Volume 11?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, we don’t have it. We do have Volumes 9 and 10. I can show you where they are.”

Customer: “No, no, I already have those. I like them. Do you have God Loves America, Volume 12?”

Me: “Let me check… yes! We have that one. I can show you.”

Customer: “Do you have God Loves America, Volume 11?”

Me: “Yes. I can show–”

Customer: “Do you have God Loves America, Volume 10?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “Volume 9?”

Me: “Yes.”

(This continues until we get to Volume 3.)

Me: “Would you like to know about Volumes 1 and 2?”

Customer: “No, I have those. I like them. Have you heard them?”

Me: “No… so, let me just get these CDs for you.”

Customer: “No thanks.”

(I’ve been helping her for nearly 20 minutes, and suspect she has mental issues; thankfully, she goes away. Ten minutes later, I hear the same customer speak up loudly behind me.)

Customer: “Well, I don’t want to go to the doctor tomorrow, but they tell me I have to.”

Me: “Oh, uh, ehrm… yeah?”

Customer: “Yeah. Colonoscopy. I don’t want to, but they have to find out where the bleeding’s coming from.”

Me: *whimpers*

(At this point, I leave the music department and hide between the far-right security sensor and a book display just outside it. The store manager walks by and sees me.)

Manager: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Hiding from a customer who was telling me about her upcoming colonoscopy! She says they have to find out where the bleeding’s coming from!”

Manager: “You can stay.”

This story is part of the Crazy Mental Imagery roundup!

Read the next roundup story!

Read the roundup!

This story is part of the Awesome Manager roundup!

Read the next Awesome Manager roundup story!

Read the Awesome Manager roundup!

(The number to our police department is only one digit off from a doctor’s office, so we often get wrong numbers.)

Me: “Police Department.”

Caller: “My doctor wrote a prescription for me for an X-ray and I need to make an appointment.”

Me: “Okay, and how can the police department help you?”

Caller: “Police department?! I was calling Dr. [Name]’s office! How DARE you answer his phone!”

Did you find this story using our Police roundup?

Click here to read the next story!

Click here to get back to the roundup!

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains content of a medical nature. It is not intended as medical advice.

(An elderly lady falls down in her apartment and has a cut on her wrist.)

Coworker: “Ma’am, I am afraid, we have to go to the hospital. You will need stitches for that cut and an X-ray to make sure your wrist isn’t broken.”

Patient: “No, I don’t wanna go. Just give me a shot and it will be okay.”

Coworker: “You mean for the pain?”

Patient: “No, so it will heal!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, I’m afraid we don’t have this kind of medication.”

Patient: “But it worked last time!”

Coworker: “Someone gave you a shot and the wrist healed by itself?”

Patient: “No, my sugar was too high and they gave me a shot and everything was okay!”

Coworker: “I see… Well, I can’t fool you; you know this stuff! Listen, I can give you a shot for the broken wrist, but this counteracts the anti-sugar medicine. So every time your sugar is too high, you can never get a shot again.”

Patient: “Never ever?”

Coworker: “Never ever again…”

Patient: “So why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

Coworker: “Well, not every patient has such an understanding of medicine as you, so I always try to keep it simple.”

Patient: “Okay, then let’s go to the hospital.”

Coworker: “Gladly.”

Did you find this story using our Emergency Services roundup?

Click here to read the next story!

Click here to get back to the roundup!

Drunk Customer: “Nice hair, man! ”

Me: “Uh, thanks…”

Drunk Customer: “Grow that s**t out, man! Hair farming is not out of style!”

(Two nights later he returns, much less drunk this time.)

Same customer: “GET A F****ING HAIR CUT!”

(You gotta love working late at a gas station in Methville, USA.)

(I used to work at a sporting goods store. One day a young guy of about 12-14 years of age comes in.)

Customer: “Hi, can you tell me where I can find a jock, like, for playing baseball?”

Me: “Oh, you mean a protective cup? Sure, they’re right over here.”

Customer: “Thanks. Oh, are there sizes?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re–”

Customer: *whispers* “I think I’m a small.”

Me: “They’re according to waistband.”

Customer: “Oh…”

Me: “I’ll be over there if you need anything else.”

This story is part of the Customers-Sharing-TMI roundup!

Read the next Customers-Sharing-TMI roundup story!

Read the Customers-Sharing-TMI roundup!