Me: “Hi, [Music Store], this is [My Name]. How may I direct your call?”

Customer: “Where the h*** do I plug this guitar in?”

Me: “Oh, you have an electric guitar there? And an amplifier?”

Customer: “Yeah, I just bought this beginner’s all-in-one package from you guys, and when I opened the box, there was a cord missing.”

Me: “Um, if you bought the ‘Strat Pack’, it should come with a six-foot black cable in a plastic bag.”

Customer: “Yeah, I have that. But where do I plug it in?”

Me: “Just plug one end into the guitar near the bottom, and the other end into the amp where it says ‘input’.”

Customer: “No, I got that already. Where do I plug it in?”

Me: “Um… you already have it connected to the amp?”

Customer: “Yeah, now how do I plug it in? There’s no cord!”

Me: *confused* “Um, I don’t think I understand how you can plug in the guitar and not have it plugged in.”

Customer: “It’s plugged into the amp already! The amp is plugged into the wall! How do I plug the GUITAR into the WALL? It’s an ELECTRIC guitar, right?”

Me: “Ohhh! If you already have it plugged in from the guitar to the amp, then it should work already. Did you try turning on the amp and strumming the guitar yet?”

Customer: “That’s not how it works, is it?!”

(I hear fumbling noises in the background, followed by a very loud “TWANG!”)

Customer: “Well, how the h*** did that happen?”

Me: “Got it okay now?”

Customer: *slams phone down with a BANG*

(It’s early in the morning and I’m half asleep. I’ve just stood up and turned around after stacking a shelf when I see a young guy rushing towards me.)

Customer: *grabs me in a tight hug and whispers in my ear* “I’m Hulk Hogan and you’re Kylie Minogue. Who am I?”

Customer’s Brother: *out of breath after running behind him* “What have I told you about hugging people!”

Me: “Right, then.”

(I laugh and walk into the stockroom where one of my colleagues is working.)

Me: “The weirdest thing just happened–”

Coworker: “Oh, are you Kylie too?”

(This happens a couple weeks before Christmas. The mall has a few gift counters that offer free gift wrappings. An old man buys a couple of Justin Bieber CDs from us.)

Me: “Are these a gift? We offer free gift wrapping services over at–”

Old man: *angrily* “Why do you assume I’m giving it to someone?”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Old man: “They’re for me! I do not like this sort of discrimination!”

Me: “Well, I’m sorry.”

(He storms out, nearly tripping over his feet on the way out.)

Me: “You okay, sir?”

Old Man: “I can walk! Stop discriminating!”

Customer: “Can you help me? It’s my daughter’s birthday and she said she wanted a CD by some band. I can’t remember the name. I have it written down here.”

(She produces a piece of paper. On it is written the name of a popular German rock band. Note that most of this band’s songs are in German, so most of the writing on their CDs is too.)

Me: “Oh, good choice. They’re a great band. We have several of their CDs right over here.”

Customer: “Hold on. All this writing is in another language!”

Me: “Yes, madam, it’s German.”

Customer: “*horrified* “Oh, God! Not this again! This is that Nazi band she’s been listening to! I thought we’d got her out of that phase!”

Me: “Madam, I can assure you this band is not a Nazi band.”

Customer: “But they’re German!”

Me: “Madam, I happen to be a fan of this particular band myself. I can assure you they are not Nazis. One of their songs is even about how they are politically left-wing.”

Customer: *aghast* “Socialists?!”

(Note: This takes place on New Year’s Eve. I am a young woman with pillar box red hair. The male cashier at the music store speaks to his coworker, but loud enough for everyone to hear).

Cashier: “You can go to the other till. I want to serve this beautiful young lady with the awesome hair. What can I do for you, madam?”

Me: “Uhm, just this, please.”

Cashier: “And will you be going out in [local road] tonight so I can celebrate with you?”

Me: “Sorry, I’m not local.”

Cashier: “Well, I hope you know, you’ve just ruined the whole of this year for me. And the next one. ”

(I giggle and go to leave, blushing.)

Cashier: *calling across the shop* “I HOPE THAT MAKES YOU FEEL GUILTY ENOUGH TO COME BACK AND GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NUMBER!”

(The whole shop cracks up. I didn’t go back, but if I hadn’t been attached it might have worked!)