Customers Are A Danger To Everyone

, , , , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I work as a farmhand, and part of my job description entails operating farm tractors and ATVs. Due to safety regulations, as well as liability and insurance policies, customers are not permitted to ride on the tractors or ATVs. On this particular day, I’m helping customers by taking baskets of tomatoes they’ve left in the field to the storefront, where they can check out. To do this, I need a tractor.)

Me: *driving tractor* “Can I help you guys with anything?”

Customer: “Yeah. Can you pick up our tomatoes, please?”

Me: “Sure, I’ll go and get them.”

(I drive off, and the customer starts yelling. I stop the tractor.)

Customer: “Can I get a ride?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; it’s against our safety rules.”

Customer: “Come on, just a little one? I’ll tip you extra if you do.”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t. You might get hurt.”

Customer: “But it’s so slow.”

(I walk around to the fender of the tractor, and I point to a sticker that says “DANGER: Riders can fall off and be killed or seriously injured.”)

Me: “Sir, can you please read that for me?”

Customer: “’Danger: riders can fall off and be killed or seriously injured.’”

Me: “That’s why I can’t give you a ride.”

Customer: “I’ll hold on!”

Me: “What if you lose your grip?”

Customer: “Where’s your boss?!”

Me: “He’s inside the store.”

(The customer storms off to the store while I help other customers. A short time later, the customer and my boss walk out to where I am.)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name]. Can you come over here, please?”

Me: “Sure.” *I walk over to him and the customer*

Boss: “This customer tells me you won’t help him.”

Me: “I told him that I won’t give him a ride on the tractor, but I’ll be more than happy to pick up his tomatoes.”

Boss: “Okay, I just wanted to clear that up.” *turns to customer* “Sorry, but we can’t give customers rides. It’s not safe.”

Customer: “But it’s so far!”

Boss: “Again, [My Name] will be more than happy to help you.”

Customer: “What kind of a place is this?! You people are stupid!”

Boss: “Where do you work?”

Customer: “I work at [Construction Company].”

Boss: “Would you let your kids play with a backhoe?”

Customer: “No, that’s dangerous!”

Boss: “Yeah, go figure.”

Customer: “But this is different!”

Ahhthentically Dense

, , , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I work at a pizza place. I take a call. I’m not sure if the caller is drunk or high, but there is no getting through to him!)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Restaurant] on [Street]. This is [My Name]. How may I help you?

Caller: “Yes, I have a coupon for the ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza.”

Me: “Yes, sir.” *verifying this is a delivery and getting the address* “What would you like on that?”

Caller: “That’s what I want. The ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza.”

Me: “Yes, sir, and what toppings would you like on that pizza?”

Caller: “That’s what I want, the ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza.”

Me: “Sir, that’s not a pizza; that’s our slogan.”

Caller: “Okay.”

Me: “What would you like on your pizza?”

Caller: “I want the ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza.”

Me: “Yes, but that’s not a pizza; that’s our slogan. What would you like on your pizza?”

Caller: “Yes, I want the ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza.”

Me: “Sir, what does the coupon say?”

Caller: “It says a large three-topping ‘ahhthentic’ Italian pizza for [amount].”

Me: “All right, sir, and what three toppings would you like?”

Caller: “I want [three toppings], and I want a cheesy bread and a two-liter drink.”

Me: “All right, sir, your total is [total].”

Caller: “Why is it so much? The coupon is for [price on coupon]!”

Me: “Yes, sir; the coupon is only good for the pizza. The cheesy bread is [amount], the two-liter drink is [amount], and the delivery fee is [amount].”

Caller: “Oh, okay.”

(Some people shouldn’t be allowed access to phones, or be left alone without intelligent adult supervision.)

Giving Handicapped People A Bad Name

, , , , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I’m the fitting room attendant today. From my post, I can see a man shopping with his toddler. He keeps holding up outfits and making comments according to her reaction.)

Dad: “How about this?” *toddler shakes her head* “I know, stripes and spots; what was I thinking? How about this?”

(They joke around for a few more minutes before coming up to me.)

Dad: “Do you have a family fitting room?”

Me: “Of course. How many?”

(I set them up in the room and return to my post. A few minutes later, a woman on a handicapped scooter drives right past me and towards the family fitting room.)

Me: “Ma’am, excuse me.”

Lady: “Two, don’t bother with a card.”

Me: “Ma’am, that handicapped stall is occupied.”

Lady: *ignores me and beats on automatic door button, which won’t work when the door is locked* “What’s wrong with this piece of crap?”

Me: “Ma’am, the room is occupied. You’ll have to use the handicapped stall in the women’s fitting rooms.”

Lady: *shakes doorknob* “I need to use this one; it’s bigger. Open it!”

Me: “Ma’am, that is the only family stall we have, so families take priority. You’ll have to use the other stall.”

Lady: “I’m f****** handicapped; I take priority! Get them out!” *keeps shaking doorknob and hitting door*

Dad: *pops head out door* “Is there a problem?”

Me: “I’m sorry—”

Lady: “Get out of my stall! You can’t use that; you’re not handicapped! It’s for handicapped people only! This is discrimination.”

Me: “Ma’am, this is our family stall; he needs it because he has a daughter trying on clothing, and they can’t use the other fitting rooms. There is another handicapped stall in the women’s fitting room.” *gives man apologetic look*

Lady: “No, I get to use this stall! Get out!” *tries to push in*

Dad: “I need to put my daughter’s shoes on.” *closes door*

Lady: *pounding on door* “Get out of there, you b******! Why isn’t your wife taking your daughter shopping, huh? I bet you’re a f****** [homosexual slur]! Get out of my stall, you [slur]!”

Me: *frantically paging security with my silent alarm* “Ma’am, please. His child is very small; you must be upsetting her.”

(Security finally arrived to escort her away!)

It’s A Mad Ad World

, , , , , | Right | December 11, 2017

(I work at a popular arts and crafts store as a manager. We frequently get customers who don’t pay attention to our ads, which have the terms of our sales printed in large, plain letters. On this day, the amount of people doing this has been ridiculous. I finally get fed up with bending the rules for people, so I try to enforce our policy.)

Cashier: “Hey, [My Name], this customer says that these were marked as $8.99, but they’re ringing up as $16.99. Can you check for me?”

Me: “Sure thing. I’ll be right back!”

(Sure enough, I go check the product and see that the ad sign is outdated. It is also not placed near the product that the customer picked up.)

Me: *over the radio* “So, the ad isn’t for that product.”

Cashier: “She’s coming over to check.”

(At this point, I’m frustrated. I step out and sure enough, the customer is walking intently down the aisle toward me.)

Customer: “See? They’re $8.99!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but this ad sign is outdated…” *I indicate the date on the ad* “…and it is also not hanging near the product you brought up.” *I indicate that the product she has is not beside the ad sign*

Customer: “But you have to honour the price! It’s advertised!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but—”

Customer: “I want to speak to your manager.”

Me: “Ma’am, I am one of the managers here.”

Customer: “Then I want to speak to someone above you! Every other store I go to would honour that price!”

(After a couple minutes of arguing, I decide it’s just not worth it to argue with a customer.)

Me: “I’m sorry about that, ma’am; I’ll get the cashier to honour that price for you.”

Customer: *smiling* “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted you to do something you weren’t comfortable with!”

Me: “Have a good day, ma’am.”

Getting The Green Light On That Diagnosis

, , , | Friendly | December 11, 2017

(I have brown hair. I decide to dye it green but keep the same style.)

Friend #1: “Whoa, that hair!”

Friend #2: “Nice hair.”

Friend #3: “Love what you’ve done with your hair.”

Friend #4: “Looks good on you.”

Friend #5: *confused* “What about the hair?”

Rest Of Us: *even more confused*

(That’s how we found out that friend was color-blind.)

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