This happened in the late 1960s, when I was 20 and working for a major Government Department in Central London. I had just moved to a new group and was chatting to my new manager, a man in his early 40s.

Manager: “Whereabouts do you live?”

I tell him it’s a suburb, population roughly 10,000, eleven miles from central London and the office.

Manager: *With a reminiscent look in his eye.* “I had a girlfriend who lived in [Suburb].”

Me: “Where in [Suburb]?”

Manager: “[Road Name].”

Me: “I live on [Road]! What number?”

Manager: “Seventeen…”

Me: “I live at fifteen…”

Flashback: Fifteen and seventeen are a pair of semi-detached houses, in a quiet suburban road. My bedroom is over our front door, next to a similar bedroom in number seventeen, occupied by a young woman I shall call Jolene; in her early twenties, attractive, who works for a major Government Department. 

On this night, about five years earlier, I am woken up by a woman shouting outside, shouting up at Jolene’s bedroom, accusing her of being a hussy, having an affair with a married man, and various other insults. After a few minutes of this, I open my window to inform her that people are trying to sleep around here and are not interested in her rant. All falls silent. When I next see Jolene, she thanks me. End of flashback.

Me: *Awed by coincidence.* “You were Jolene’s boyfriend?”

Manager: “Yes…”

I did wonder if either Jolene or the manager’s wife had ever mentioned the incident to him. At work, we never spoke of it again, and it did not affect our working relationship. He was an excellent manager.

Customer: “What’s your soup tonight?”

Me: “Cream of Mushroom.”

Customer: “Oh, I didn’t know you could milk mushrooms!”

Me: “Uh, no, it’s mushrooms and cream, mixed together in a soup.”

Customer: “…oh. I better not order that then. I’m allergic to mushrooms.”

By now, his partner is looking at him with the kind of look I am not professionally allowed to give to customers.

Customer: *To his partner.* “What? I’m allergic to mushrooms, not cream of mushroom!”

Related:
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 8
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 7
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 6
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 5
Not Quite The Cream Of The Crop, Part 4

I walk into a flower shop after spotting a beautiful bouquet in the window.

Me: “Hi! I’d like to buy that bouquet in the window, please.”

Florist: “Oh, that one isn’t for sale.”

Me: “Is it already reserved?”

Florist: “No, but it’s part of our window display.”

Me: “Okay. Could you take it out of the display so I can buy it?”

Florist: “No. If I remove it, the display will look incomplete.”

Me: “Could you make me another bouquet just like it?”

Florist: “I’m afraid not. That bouquet is using the last of those flowers.”

Me: “So, the only bouquet you have in that style is the one in the window?”

Florist: “That’s right.”

Me: “And you won’t sell it because you need it to advertise that style?”

Florist: “Exactly. Customers see it in the window and come inside.”

Me: “Yes. That’s what I did.”

Florist: “Then the display is doing its job.”

Me: “Except you won’t sell me the bouquet, and you can’t make another one.”

Florist: “We’ll be able to make more when our next shipment arrives.”

Me: “When is that?”

Florist: “Next week.”

Me: “So, until then, the bouquet is advertising flowers you don’t have to customers who aren’t allowed to buy the flowers you do have?”

She stares at me as though I’m the one being difficult.

Florist: “If I sold it to you, there wouldn’t be anything in the window to attract customers.”

Me: “And you have nothing in the store to keep them. Good day.”

I ended up getting a bouquet from a small vendor outside the train station. Just as pretty, cheaper, and actually HAPPY to sell all their stock!

I worked at a cinema when 3D films were all the rage. We have film programs that tell you what films are showing every week, and when they are showing each day. An older lady approaches me:

Customer: “Excuse me, what does it mean when it says 3D next to the film?”

Me: “That means that’s a 3D showing of the film; you’ll need 3D glasses if you want to watch it.”

Customer: “Ah, I see. So here where it says 2D, does that mean I’ll need 2D glasses to watch it?”

Me: “…”

When I said no, she didn’t understand why. Luckily, she was already wearing glasses, and I told her that her current pair already has 2D film technology built in, which she thought was quite clever.

Related:
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 9
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 8
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 7
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 6
A New Dimension of Stupidity, Part 5

A colleague, recently returned from a week off, is eating a salad for lunch and looking miserable.

Me: “You really don’t look like you’re enjoying that.”

Colleague: “It’s actually a really good salad, but I’m tired of having healthy food all week.”

Me: “Why? On a health kick?”

Colleague: “On a diet. Just got back from a family trip to Wales and it… humbled me.”

Me: “Oh?”

Colleague: “We went on a zipline adventure thing, and they sometimes have to add weights to you to make sure you can… zip all the way. My husband and son had a lot added to them.”

Me: “And you had less weight added?”

Colleague: “They gave me a sail to slow me down.”

Me: “…”

Colleague: “So… yeah. Mmm, broccoli!”