Blow Them Away

| Houston, TX, USA | Working | July 30, 2013

Caller: “May I speak to Joe Blow?”

Me: “Joe Blow is a pseudonym that my boss uses to confuse telemarketers.”

Caller: “Well, I’m calling to talk to Mr. Blow about accounting services.”

Me: “…and clearly it’s working.”

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She Is Never Ever Getting That CD

| Miami, FL, USA | Working | July 21, 2013

(I’m Asian, but I have blonde hair. I’m also wearing red lipstick.)

Employee: “The Taylor Swift CDs are over there.”

Me: “I’m not looking for Taylor Swift CDs. What makes you think so?”

Employee: “Well… you kind of look like her, for starters.”

Peddling To The Metal (Heads)

| FL, USA | Romantic | June 3, 2013

(I’m shopping at a music store. I pass by a scary-looking guy in all black, with his hair dyed in dark blue spikes, covered with chains, piercings and tattoos. He seems to be buying an album from a local death metal group, whose cover features sexually explicit and anti-religious artwork. The scary guy takes the CD up to the counter.)

Scary Guy: “I want to get this, and a soda.”

Salesperson: “Coming right up.”

(The salesperson gets a soda from the small refrigerator behind the counter, and starts to ring the scary guy’s purchase up.)

Salesperson: “So, uh…[death metal band], huh?”

Scary Guy: “It’s for my girlfriend. She digs that s***.”

Salesperson: “This is for a girl?!”

Scary Guy: “Yeah, so?”

Salesperson: “Girls don’t listen to music like this!”

Scary Guy: “Uh, yeah she does. Just bag the disc, man.”

Salesperson: “I can’t let you give this to a girl! She’s probably just pretending to like it because you do!”

Scary Guy: “Don’t give me any crap. Just ring up the d*** CD.”

Salesperson: “Girls don’t like this music!”

Scary Guy: “All right, you and me are gonna have a problem, right—”

(Suddenly, a girl comes around the corner. She looks a lot like the scary guy; she is also wearing all black clothes, lots of piercings and tattoos, spiky pink hair and a choker that says ‘F*** you’.)

Scary Girl: “What’s going on here, babe?”

Scary Guy: “Pencil-d*** here won’t ring up your birthday present, angel.”

(The scary girl suddenly turns on the salesperson.)

Scary Girl: “What f****** business is it of yours what my babe gets me, pencil-d***?”

Salesperson: “Uh…”

(The scary girl leans over the counter, right in the salesperson’s face.)

Scary Girl: “I think you had better give us what we want, pencil-d***.”

(The salesperson goes completely white, and finishes the transaction at lightning speed.)

Scary Guy: “Thanks for jack-s***, pencil-d***.”

(The scary guy gives the CD to his girlfriend.)

Scary Guy: “Here you go, angel.”

Scary Girl: “[Death metal band]? Awwww, babe! You’re the darkest!”

(They walk out of the store kissing. I approach the counter with my own purchase.)

Me: “Just this for me, pencil-d***.”

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Got A Whole Lotta Love For This Manager

| Buffalo, NY, USA | Working | June 3, 2013

(I’m a 14-year-old girl. I’ve just selected three Led Zeppelin CDs, and head to the counter to make my purchase. The cashier is a middle-aged man.)

Cashier: “Are these for your dad?”

Me: “Actually, no, they’re for me.”

Cashier: “Uh, the One Direction CDs are over there.” *points*

Me: “Yeah, well, I hate One Direction. I much prefer Led Zeppelin.”

Cashier: “But girls your age are supposed to like One Direction!”

Me: “Yeah, well, I don’t! I like Led Zeppelin.”

Cashier: “It’s obvious that you have some sort of mental problem. It’s not normal for girls your age to like classic rock.”

(The manager has now approached the counter.)

Manager: *to cashier* “You! To my office now!” *to me* “I’m so sorry about that. He shouldn’t be talking to you that way. Personally, it’s great to see kids your age that appreciate great music.”

(He gave me 50% off for my troubles.)

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Stiff Upper Lip Vs The American Quip

| UK | Right | February 15, 2013

(I work in a small independent music shop in the UK. Although our shelf space is limited, we have a pretty good reputation, because of the musical knowledge of our staff and our ability to source and order some really obscure CDs.)

Customer: “Do you have [certain CD] in stock?”

Me: “I’m afraid that we don’t have it at the moment.”

(I quickly checking our database, I find that we’ve never had any requests for it until today.)

Me: “I can source it for you. Would you like to place an order?”

Customer: “I need it today. I’m going back to the States tomorrow.”

Me: “I’m sorry; the suppliers of this disc usually take a couple of days to get things to us.”

Customer: *looking hugely put out* “Well, can you send it to San Francisco?”

Me: “Yes, that should be fine.”

Customer: “I guess you’ll drop the shipping costs, seeing how you didn’t have it in stock when I asked.”

Me: “I’m afraid that isn’t policy in this shop. We don’t pretend to be able to keep in stock any CD our customers might ask for, after all. But if you—”

Customer: “Oh, yes, I know what this is. This is Britain muddling through, isn’t it? Just sixty years ago, you won the war; now you can’t even keep a CD in stock.”

Me: “I’m sorry; we’re only a very small shop, and there’s a lot of CDs—”

Customer: “Oh, yes, my friend said you’d try to make excuses, and she’s a Professor, you know. But look!” *holding up three CDs she’d like to buy* “I’m keeping you in business! Britain, muddling through!”

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