Ah, Fathers, Part 3

, , , | Right | August 3, 2008

(I worked at a store that cashes peoples personal cheques. A young, 17-ish boy approaches me.)

Me: “Hello, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I need to cash this cheque, please.” *hands over information*

Me: “Okay, everything looks good. Can I have the cheque, please?”

Customer: “Sure.”

(I scan the cheque through and an account pops up. It had been used before only two hours previous at another one of our stores not far from my location.)

Me: “Just give me a moment. I need to go to the back to verify your cheque, and I’ll be back with your money.”

Customer: “Okay.”

(I go to the back of the store and call the number on the cheque. An older gentleman who I believe to be the customer’s father answers the phone.)

Customer’s Father: “Hello?”

Me: “Hello, sir. I believe your son is here with a cheque that you gave him and that he is wanting it to be cashed. I just wanted to make sure this was correct as we have cashed one already today for the same amount.”

Customer’s Father: *calmly* “What’s your address?”

Me: “It’s [address].”

Customer’s Father: “I’ll be down there in a few minutes. I don’t live far… Just don’t let my son leave.”

(I head back to the front to talk to the young customer.)

Me: “Hey, sorry this is taking so long…”

Customer: *explodes* “WHATEVER! You’re taking forever! This is my dad’s g**d**n cheque and it’s good! Why are you taking so long?! He has lots of money and he gave this to me to cash so that I could have the money!” *rants*

(As he is ranting, a large man about the size of Vin Diesel comes in the store. The look on his face is sheer anger. He just stands there in the lobby as his son reams me out.)

Me: *to customer* “Why don’t you ask your father?”

Customer’s Father: “YOU LITTLE B*****D!”

(I have never seen a boy try to run so fast out the door in my life. He only makes it to the parking lot outside the store before his father nabs him. Let’s just say his buttocks learned the value of a dollar.)

 

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Someone Needs To Go Back To School

, , | Right | July 27, 2008

Me: “Photography studio, how may I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, hi, I just received a second notice…”

Me: “… for your yearbook session?”

Customer: “Yeah, well, for my daughter. I’m just calling to see if this is a scam.”

Me: “No, ma’am, we work with your daughter’s high school. If she doesn’t have her photo taken within the next three weeks, it won’t appear in the yearbook.”

Customer: “Oh… so do you offer a class?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “You know, a class for parents who don’t really understand this whole process?”

Me: “Well it’s really not that complicated. Your daughter just has to come to the studio and have her picture taken. It will probably only last twenty minutes. If you want more information on the sessions we sent out brochures with the first notice or you can go to our website.”

Customer: “So… you don’t offer a class?”

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Not Quite Shuffled Off This Mortal Coil

, | Right | July 15, 2008

Customer: “My mother is dying at [Hospital]. She is prearranged through you.”

Me: “I see her file right here, sir.”

(I talk about our funeral home’s services.)

Customer: “Now, could you go ahead and run her obituary tomorrow?”

Me: *confused* “I thought she hadn’t passed away yet.”

Customer: “She hasn’t, but I would like to go ahead and run the obituary.”

Me: “Sir, I’m afraid we can’t do that. We need to wait until she actually dies.”

Customer: *unhappy* “Well, if you say so.”

(The woman did not die for another eight days.)

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Mom In A Thong: Wrong

, , , | Right | July 6, 2008

Me: “Ma’am, you’re not allowed to have non-service dogs in the store unless you’re holding them.”

Woman: “Oh, I know.”

Me: “Well… I am going to have to ask you to keep the dog in your arms while you’re shopping.”

Woman: “That’s fine. I just had to readjust my thong.”

Woman’s Young Daughter: “MOM!”

Woman: “What? I wanted him to know.”

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Fortunately, It’s Raining Pork Barrels And Earmarks

, , , | Right | July 3, 2008

(Background: I work at a small round lake about a mile in diameter. From any point on the shore you can see the edge of the lake all around. The lake is used for fishing and as such is full of sand and seaweed and fish.)

Patron: “Hi, can you tell me what ocean this is?”

Me: “Sir, this is a fresh water man-made lake, not an ocean.”

Patron: “I mean, what ocean is it connected to?”

Me: “It’s not connected to an ocean. It’s a man-made lake.”

(The patron pauses and obviously decides to come at this from another angle.)

Patron: “What river feeds this lake?”

Me: “This lake used to be a gravel pit before they filled it in with water. It’s not connected to the river system. It’s man-made.”

Patron: “Well, where does all the water come from?”

Me: “The lake is filled with rainwater, mostly.”

Patron: “That’s awful! I don’t want to let my kids swim in rainwater… It’s dirty. You should keep the rain out of the lake!”

Me: *sarcastically* “I totally agree. Maybe we can spend tax dollars on a tarp to cover the lake when it rains.”

Patron: “That’s an excellent idea! I hope you mention that to your supervisors!”

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