(I order a free credit report from one of several companies in Canada. When I receive the report, it is very obvious that they have mixed my report with another person’s, so I call them to inquire. Understandably, they have to ask several security questions to ascertain my identity.)

Company Rep: “Can I have your age?”

Me: “I’m 55.”

Company Rep: “That’s not correct.”

Me: “I’m 55. How can it not be correct?”

Company Rep: “The forms say you must be between 66 and 72.”

Me: “I cannot be between those ages; I know for certain that I am 55.”

Company Rep: “I’m sorry, but that’s what the forms say.”

Me: “Do the forms not have my date of birth?”

Company Rep: “Yes, they do.”

Me: “And I was born in 1956, correct?”

Company Rep: “That’s correct.”

Me: “And it’s now 2011. 2011 – 1956 = 55, would you not agree?”

Company Rep: “Yes, but the paperwork says you have to be between 66 and 72.”

Me: “So you can’t figure out for yourself that the paperwork that your company has generated has made a mistake. Not only do you have my credit report mixed up with someone else’s, but you can’t do a simple bit of math and see that your answer is wrong?”

Company Rep: “I’m sorry. sir, but your age has to be between 66 and 72?”

Me: “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” *hangs up*

(I am a manager at a mom-and-pop Chinese restaurant. A group of three ladies comes in, sits down, and places their orders. Fast forward to when they’ve finished their meals and want their bill.)

Customer: “I want to talk to a manager. There’s a hair in my food!”

(I go to check and see that all three of them have finished their meals.)

Me:  “I’m sorry, ma’am, what was wrong with your meal?”

Customer: *shows me a blonde hair* “I found this in my rice! What are you going to do about it?”

(Considering NO ONE on staff has blonde hair and they actually ate everything, I apologize and offer her 50% off her meal, even though I’ve been doing this long enough to see through this scam.)

Customer: “WHAT?! THAT’S IT! We usually get ALL our meals for free!”

Me: “I see you’ve done this before. I’ll tell you what, ma’am. My daughter works as a forensic scientist for the police department. Let me call her to come and get this hair and run a DNA test on it. We will compare it to the DNA you’ve left on your coffee cup. If it’s not a match, I will give you free lunch every day for life. If it’s a match, we will waste our judicial system’s time and we will have you charged with fraud. What will it be, ma’am?”

(They paid in full. And my daughter is not a forensic scientist; she’s a veterinarian technician. I don’t particularly like scammers.)

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(We are allowed to wear costumes at work on Halloween. I thought this would make it easier to find out which associate helped the customers, since the customers never remember their names.)

Me: “Did anyone help you today?”

Customer: “Yes, but I forget his name.”

Me: “That’s okay. Was he wearing a costume?”

Customer: “No.”

(I put in the name of the only associate not wearing a costume. Our uniforms consist of black pants and a simple collared red T-shirt. The transaction ends.)

Customer: “Oh! It was him!”

(They pointed to an associate wearing a Gru costume from “Despicable Me”… which consists of a grey turtleneck sweater, a striped grey scarf, and a large Minion stuffy.)

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(We are allowed to wear costumes to work on Halloween, and I couldn’t find anything super exciting, so my last-minute costume consisted of a green shirt and a Kermit the Frog hat, which has eyes poking up from the top, and his face on the front.)

Customer: “Are you an elf?”

Me: “…No, I’m Kermit.”

Customer: “Oh. I thought you were an elf. Because you’re wearing green.”

Me: “But I have a Kermit hat on…”

Customer: “But it’s green.”

(The store I work at has multiple signs advertising for Father’s Day promotions, which is next week.)

Customer: “Is tomorrow Father’s Day? I don’t want to miss it.”

Me: “No, I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it’s next week, but I’m not 100% sure.”

Customer: “You don’t know?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, but I can check for you if you’d like?”

Customer: *very snidely* “How can you not know? What, don’t you have a father?”

Me: “No. Actually, I don’t.”

(He blushed, apologized, and left quickly.)

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