I’m making small talk with a customer while I am applying a tattoo.

Me: “This is your fifth tattoo, yeah?”

Customer: “That’s right.”

Me: “So you don’t need me to explain the procedure of keeping the skin clean and how to avoid infection as the skin heals?”

Customer: “Yeah, you’re good. My skin heals super-fast anyway. Good genetics.”

Me: “That’s… cool. You must be descended from Wolverine!” *Laughs.*

Customer: “Oh, is that because if you go far back enough, we all came from wolves?”

Me: “Uh… that’s dogs. And I was talking about Wolverine, the character. The one who has super-fast healing?”

Customer: “Oh. I thought we all came from wolves. I hear that from my friends all the time.”

Me: “Maybe start fact-checking your friends…?”

My high school algebra teacher asked me to hang back after class.

Teacher: “I’m convinced you cheated on the last test, so I’m failing you.”

Me: “What?! I didn’t cheat!”

Teacher: “You got almost every question correct, but you didn’t show any of your work. You must have copied the answers from somewhere. Tell me where.”

Me: “I did them in my head.”

Teacher: “What?!”

Me: “I did the algebra in my head.”

Teacher: “You can’t do algebra in your head.”

Me: “No, you can’t do algebra in your head.”

That was probably not the best response, but I was angry. I made a complaint to the principal, via my parents. When I demonstrated that I could complete a new algebra question in front of them without writing down my work, the teacher was forced to give me my passing grade.

Customer: “What does 112 off mean?”

Me: “Uh, can you tell me what you’re referring to?”

Customer: “The sign. It says 112 off. Are you discounting it by $112?”

Me: “Oh! That’s half off. That’s not 112, it’s ½. It’s a fraction.”

Customer: “A… fraction?”

This person sounds like a local, so I don’t think it’s a language barrier, but I know not everyone got to have a great schooling, so I aim to be sensitive.

Me: “Yes. A fraction is a math thing. ½ basically means half. For this item, it means it was ten dollars, but now it’s five.”

Customer: “Ugh! Then just say it’s five dollars! Why do you have to assume we’re all rocket scientists to understand a price!”

Me: “I’ll… pass that suggestion on to the manager.”

For the rest of the time I worked there, that customer would see me and make remarks like “Oh look, it’s Einstein!” and “What’s up, math boy? Here to write down the prices in algebra?”

Related:
Fractionally More Stupid, Part 5
Fractionally More Stupid, Part 4
Fractionally More Stupid, Part 3
Fractionally More Stupid, Part 2
Fractionally More Stupid

I’m talking to my neighbor about our dogs and how well they play together.

Neighbor: “They’re both different breeds, but they get along like brothers.”

Me: “Well, they all come from wolves at the end of the day.”

Neighbor: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Well, all dogs evolved from wolves.”

Neighbor: “Then why are there still wolves?”

Me: “Not every wolf evolved.”

Neighbor: “That’s so stupid. This is why evolution is just a scam.”

Me: “Your family is from Europe originally, right?”

Neighbor: “Yeah?”

Me: “Since Americans came from Europe, why are there still Europeans?”

Neighbor: “I…” *Suddenly calls his dog inside and doesn’t come out for the rest of the day.*

I work at a boutique kitchenware store. We sell high-quality glass storage containers that are sold by volume (milliliters/ounces). A customer approaches the counter with a set of three glass jars.

Customer: “Excuse me, I need to return these. They’re faulty.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that! Are the seals not airtight, or is there a crack in the glass?”

Customer: “No, the glass is fine. But they don’t hold what they say they hold. The label says, ‘500 grams,’ but I can only fit about 300 grams of my protein powder in there.”

Me: “Ah, I see the confusion. These are actually 500 milliliter jars. That measures the volume, the space inside, rather than the weight of what you’re putting in it.”

Customer: “Right. 500 milliliters. Which is 500 grams.”

Me: “Well, that’s only true for water. Since protein powder is very fluffy and light, it takes up a lot of space but doesn’t weigh very much. It’s like how a bag of marshmallows takes up more room than a bag of lead sinkers.”

Customer: “I don’t want to fill it with lead. I want to fill it with powder. Are you telling me your jars change size depending on what I put in them?”

Me: “No, the jar stays the same size. The powder just takes up more space because it’s full of air.”

Customer: “Exactly! So, you’re selling me a jar that’s full of air? Just give me the refund. I’ll go to the shop next door; I saw they have ‘one-liter’ jars. Hopefully, those ones aren’t as stingy with their grams as yours are.”