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Cigarettes Are His Achilles Heel

, , , | Right | March 28, 2011

(A customer walks in, limping badly. His foot seems to be dragging lifelessly.)

Me: “Are you alright, sir?”

Customer: “No, I just shattered my ankle.”

Me: “Do you want me to call you an ambulance?”

Customer: “No, I just need a pack of smokes.”

First Impressions Lead To Confessions

, , , , , | Right | March 17, 2011

(I’m in the store office. From the camera screens, I can see a young man shoplifting. I hit the record, gathering evidence as he goes around the store. He is putting things into his pocket, jacket, etc. He next comes up to the back of the store, and knocks on the door to my office. I put the chain on the door before opening it.)

Customer: “Hi. I’m [Name]. I’m here for the job interview.”


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Not A Creature Was Stirring, Not Even A Mouse

, , , | Right | March 13, 2011

Me: “Hello, [Computer Company] support. How may I help you?”

Customer: “My son just bought me a computer today. He showed me how to use things like the internet. But now I can’t close the window. When I click the close button, it directs me to a search page.”

Me: “Are you sure you’re clicking the close button?”

Customer: “Yes, I am. I’m putting the mouse on the top left corner of the mouse pad, in the same place where the close button on the window is. I’m clicking the mouse, and the search page pops up.”

Me: “Ma’am, you actually need to drag the mouse on the mouse pad until it’s over the close button. Then you click the mouse.”

(There are five seconds of extremely loud clicking, followed by a frustrated grunt.)

Customer: “It still isn’t working.”

Me: “Okay. There are other ways to close the window. Try pressing alt and F4.”

Customer: “Oh, that sounds far to complicated. I’ll just get my son on the next flight from Arizona to come to fix it.”

The Customer Is Always Righteous

, , , , , | Right | February 3, 2011

(A regular customer comes into our store. She’s known to be very difficult to please.)

Customer: “Good evening.”

Me: *cheerily, while ringing her items up* “Good evening, ma’am! That’s $5.31, please.”

(She puts a credit card down in front of me, which I ring through the register.)

Me: “If you could please sign right there…”

(I point, and she does. I bag her items and hand her the bag, her credit card, and her receipt. She takes them slowly and I think I’ve done a good job, but apparently not.)

Customer: “You dishonor me! You dishonor me and you will burn for it!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

Customer: “God honors me! You don’t, and you will burn! I don’t know, I’m not God. But that’s what he’s saying. You dishonor me and you will burn!” *walks away*

Me: *totally speechless*


This story is part of the Worryingly Weird Checkout Encounters roundup!

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Our Great Dumbocracy, Part 3

, , , , | Right | February 1, 2011

(We’ve just recently switched to a new system where receipts are optional.)

Me: “…and would you like a receipt today?”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “We’re now only printing receipts if you’d like one, in order to save paper. Would you like a receipt?”

Customer: “Of course I want my receipt! You know, it’s young punks like you who do all your online banking who are responsible for 9-11! You should be ashamed of yourself!”


This story is part of our Shocking Old People roundup!

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