(I’m about three and it’s my first time riding a horse. The only other types of horses I’ve ridden are the carousel horses at fairs.)
Mom: “How are you doing, sweetie?”
Me: “Where’s the music?”
Mom: “What?”
Me: “The other horses at the fairs play music. Why won’t this one?!”
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(I am a customer at an outlet shoe store in the White Mountains region of New Hampshire. We often get French Canadians who come to New Hampshire for vacations and buy things here to avoid the high taxes they pay in Canada. Most of them speak perfectly fine English, but some of them, particularly some of the older people, can have some trouble. I speak French fluently, so I’m helping an elderly couple who is having trouble translating the sales signs.)
Me: *in French* “It says that if you buy one pair of shoes, you get the second pair half-off.”
Elderly Customer: *in French* “Thank you. My English is not good, and some things just don’t translate well—”
Other Customer: “Don’t do that!”
Me: “Excuse me?”
Other Customer: “Don’t pander to them! If they want to live in this country, they should learn to speak English!”
Me: “I think they are just visiting.”
Other Customer: “Bulls***! Once they get into our country, they never leave! That’s why we need a fence.” *turns to the elderly couple* “Go back to Mexico!”
Me: “They’re Canadian.”
Other Customer: “Don’t lie to me. I heard you speaking Spanish!”
Me: “That was French. Canada is bilingual. Plenty of people in Canada speak French as their first language.”
Other Customer: “We need a fence!”
Me: “They are from Canada!”
Other Customer: “We need TWO fences!”
(Note: our store sells kitchen supplies, including a very popular brand of glass cookware made in the USA. Usually, the covers are sold separately from the actual cooking dishes, but we are having a special on display where you get a set of two dishes and their covers for 20 dollars. Not long after we open up for the day, two elderly customers walk in and look at the display.)
Customer: “Where is this made?”
Me: “In the United States, ma’am.”
Customer: “$3.99, huh? I’ll take this set. Can you carry it to the register for me?”
Me: “Actually, that set is $20. If you still want it, I would be happy to carry it to the register for you.”
Customer: “No! The sticker says it’s $3.99!”
Me: “That’s how much the lid costs on its own. If you turn the dish over, you will see it also has its own tag, as does the smaller dish nested inside it.”
Customer: “That’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to know how much this set costs?!”
(There is a bright red sign that says the price of the set sitting on the table. It’s literally right in front of her face)
Me: “It’s on the sign right there, ma’am.”
Customer: “I don’t look at signs! I look at the product! This is false advertising! It’s fraud! You are a liar!”
Me: “Ma’am, it’s not—”
Customer: “My friend bought this set for $3.99 yesterday. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Me: “Ma’am, this set has never been, nor will it ever be $3.99. If your friend did receive it for $3.99, she was grossly undercharged by one of my coworkers.”
Customer: “If it doesn’t cost $3.99, then the sticker shouldn’t be on there. You should take all the stickers off! No one looks at the stupid signs. They look at the product!”
(The customer storms out of the store, almost knocking over a display of plastic floral dishes. I can see her outside the store windows ranting to a group of younger people that I assume are her grandchildren. Meanwhile, her friend is still in the store. She picks up a mixing bowl set and brings it to the register.)
Customer’s Friend: *smiling* “Don’t mind her, dear. She’s always been as dumb as a f***ing brick.”
(I was speechless and she left the store before I could respond. She’s my new hero!)
(We’ve just had a major accident in town. It’s a small department, and only one officer is on. A lady calls about fireworks going off near her house.)
Me: “Good evening, [Town] Police.”
Caller: “There are fireworks going off and my horse is very upset!”
Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but right now all calls that are not priority are being held. We have a major accident in town. Our officers cannot leave the scene right now.”
Caller: “You mean to tell me that’s more important than my horse? He’s really upset! He’s crying!”
Me: “I wasn’t aware horses could cry. I will let the officer know.”
Caller: “You people should get your priorities straight! My horse is more important than any accident!” *hangs up*
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(My husband and I are in a comic book store looking at collectable comics. I pick up an old X-Men comic.)
Me: “Hey, hun. What would happen if you cut off Wolverine’s head? Would he grow a new head, or a new body?”
Husband & Store Owner: “What?”
Me: “Or, would his head grow a new body, his body grow a new head, and end up with two Wolverines?”
Husband: “Wolverine has an adamantium spine. You can’t cut his head off.”
Me: “But, what about before he got the adamantium? What if someone had cut his head off? And if then it had made two Wolverines, would they have worked together, or would they have tried to kill each other until the end of time?”
Store Owner: “I don’t know where you found her, buddy, but never let her go.”
