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Love’s End-Zone

, , , , | Romantic | November 18, 2013

(I am eating dinner with a few coworkers. I am talking about my fiancé.)

Me: “We were actually friends for a few years before we started dating. I kinda friend-zoned him for a long time.”

Coworker: “Wow.”

Me: “What?”

Coworker: “Your fiancé and Ron Weasley are the only two people I know who have ever made it out of the friend-zone.”

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Racism Should Have Checked Out Already

, , , | Working | July 19, 2013

(I am a customer at the checkout. Both the cashier and I are Caucasian. While I am paying, I notice that a boy, around eight years old, is putting a bag of groceries on the counter.)

Me: “You’re a good boy, helping his mommy.”

(The boy smiles.)

Cashier: “She’s not his mother.”

(The boy’s mother looks at him.)

Mother: “Uh… he is my son.”

Cashier: “You’re white; he’s a half-n*****.”

(The boy gets very upset, and begins to cry.)

Mother: “He IS my son! His father’s in the navy!”

Cashier: “Oh, my God! I am so sorry! Listen, I’ll… uh… give you 25% off; it’s the highest we offer on a Friday. How about that?”

(The mother nods, and I begin to go, when I see the cashier get a leaflet out from under the desk. The mother takes one look at it, and is furious.)

Mother: “Just what the h*** are you suggesting!?”

Cashier: “That’s what Grandma used to tell me.”

Mother: “Well, I can guess she’s a lot older, but you’re really young. How dare you even ask that!”

(I see the leaflet is a helpline for rape crisis and abusive relationships.)

Cashier: “Hey, Grandma told me that black fathers were criminals and white fathers were fools. So, I always see them like that. Not my fault she told me that. In fact, she’ll be here in a minute. I’m taking her to [Clothing store].”

(Right on cue, an old woman, maybe 60 or 70, enters. It turns out to be the cashier’s grandmother.)

Me: “Excuse me, but I think your grandson was just racist towards this woman’s husband.”

Grandma: “Listen [Cashier], what race was he? Because if the guy was Indian, Chinese or Native, I’m not gonna get you any cake tonight.”

Me: “He was black.”

Grandma: “Well, is there any sort of problem with this?”

(I tell the grandmother what the cashier said.)

Grandma: “Well, that’s what happens to those young white women.”

Me: “No, it doesn’t! Saying black men are abusive is COMPLETELY racist!”

(The mother, her son, and I went to the manager. Thankfully, they fired the cashier, and banned the grandma from the store.)

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Weeding Out The Truth

, , , | Right | January 20, 2011

(The cigar shop sells hookahs and tobacco for it. It’s called sheesha.)

Me: “Can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes. I’m looking for hookah tobacco. It’s called… uh… ganja?”

Me: “This is the only hookah tobacco we sell.”

Customer: “Thank you!”

(As I am ringing him out, it suddenly occurs to him what he had asked for.)

Customer: “Oh, my God! Did I just ask you for weed?”

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At Lagerheads

, , , , | Right | June 11, 2010

(A drunk guest comes down and wants their car but we refuse to give it to him because he is intoxicated. We call him a cab and ask if he needs his house key off his key ring.)

Customer: “Oh, yeah. I might need that.”

Me: “Okay, which one is it?”

Customer: “It’s that black one right there.”

Me: “Sir, that’s your car key. Which one is your house key?”

Customer: “No, really. It’s that black one.”

Me: “No… that’s your car key.”

Customer: “You don’t understand; I made it universal. It opens everything in my house.”

Me: “Okay, I’m just going to give you everything but the car key. Have a nice night, sir.”

This story part of our “Customers so stupid they should not be alive” roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

23 Hilarious Stories About Customers Versus Mother Nature


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The State Eats Cuddly Puppies & Kittens, Too

, , , | Right | November 6, 2007

Me: “Good Afternoon, [Mississippi Government Department]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Yes, I would like y’all to get me some food stamps. My kids are hungry and I got fired last week.”

Me: “Ma’am, we don’t issue food stamps. You need to contact the Department of Human Services.”

Caller: “What?! My cousin told me to call y’all and y’all would get us fed. I know the State has lots of monies, can’t you just send us some?”

Me: “I’m sorry ma’am, you need to call DHS and they will be able to assist you.”

Caller: “F*** You! The God-D***ed State never does a d*** thing for us poor folks! I hope you feel the fires of Hell for starving children!” *click*

Me: *stunned silence*

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