You Got Sat On By A Prankoppotamus

, , , , , | Right | September 11, 2017

(Occasionally we get some folk calling the store just to prank us and waste our time, so on slow days, some of us, like me, try to see if we can beat them at their own game. Next to our registers are a collection of plush toys shaped like animals.)

Caller: “Yes, hi, I was wondering if you sell tigers.”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “Really?”

Me: *looking at one of our stuffed tigers sitting on a display across from my register* “His name is Bernie, and he’s about a year old.”

Caller: “Uh… what about rhinos?”

(Lo and behold, we have a rhino plushie too.)

Me: “We have Sarah; she’s around the same age.”

Caller: “Yeah… what about elephants?”

Me: “African or Indian? We have both.”

Caller: “What? Hold on… are you pranking me? ‘Cause I called in order to prank you… I think…”

Me: “You asked if we have animals. I’m telling you what your options are.”

Caller: “Yeah, but… I didn’t mean… uh… you know what, forget it! I’ve completely lost track of what’s going on here!” *click*

Flush That Idea Immediately!

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 11, 2017

(I keep aquariums. At one point I debate giving away my current fish so I can house a different type, and I mention it to a friend.)

Friend: “Well, you could always just flush them. I mean, all pipes lead to the ocean, right?”

Me: “…okay, first problem with that, they would first fall into an ocean of s***. Second problem, they’d end up in a treatment facility, which would kill them if they weren’t dead already. Third problem, they’re freshwater fish.”

(I ended up giving the few large cold-water fish I had to a fellow fish-keeper so I could get many small tropical fish. People, if you no longer want your pets, PLEASE don’t try to “release them to the wild!” They will either die or wreak havoc on the local ecosystem.)

Thinking They Can Rule Your Roost(er)

, , , | Right | September 9, 2017

(Where I work, we have just had a new chicken cooker installed in our deli department. As someone’s attempt at humour, when the chickens are cooked, the cooker crows like a rooster. It sounds fairly realistic, but after a few times you do get used to it. This day I answer the phone.)

Me: “Good afternoon, this is [Supermarket], this is [My Name] speaking. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, I’d like to speak to someone regarding the live animals you have in your store room.”

(What she’s talking about clicks, and I think this is just a joke call because of the rooster noise. So, I start laughing at her.)

Customer: “I don’t see how it is funny! You are keeping live animals in your back dock. I can clearly hear a rooster crowing behind your deli area!”

Me: “Ma’am, it is just the noise our chicken cooker makes when the cooking cycle is finished. It’s just the maker’s attempt at a joke.”

Customer: “Well, I find it offensive and off-putting, and it makes me not want to shop at your store again.”

Me: “Well, that’s your choice, of course, but it is just a recording. We don’t keep any live animals anywhere in the store.”

(She ranted about the same thing for a few more minutes, until I offered to put her on with the store manager to complain further. She then informed me that if I didn’t change the noise within a week, she wouldn’t shop here ever again. She then hung up on me. To this day, I don’t know if she was just having a lend or was actually serious.)

Mew…Two?

, , , , , | Right | September 7, 2017

(I volunteer at a cat rescue shelter. Our manager sends an email around, warning us of a lady who has been dropping by every day, asking about discounts on the price of adopting cats. [We charge $100 for vaccinations, grooming, and a basic medical checkup, to ensure the cats are as healthy as can be]. Lo and behold, this woman [who looks to be in her mid 60s] indeed drops by during my shift and tries the same spiel, claiming she deserves to pay less for adopting our kitties.)

Woman: “These are MY cats! Well, they’re clones of them at least!”

Me: “I… uh… clones?”

Woman: “Don’t look at me like that! I know how this works! You pay the vets around the state to send you blood samples and DNA from the felines they treat, and then you grow clones in the back there!”

(She points at the door to our onsite vet.)

Woman: “You’ve got, what, six or seven tanks back there? Enough to keep these cages full?”

Me: “Ma’am… I… I can assure you, these cats are rescues! They were sent to us, not grown here!”

Woman: “Yeah, right, look at this one!” *She gestures to a cute calico that’s staring at her from its basking hammock on the window.* “That’s clearly a clone of my precious Bertie! It’s got the same coat color, the same eyes…”

(She then proceeds to stab her finger into the poor cat’s belly. As expected, the cat doesn’t like this, and swats at her.)

Woman: “Even the same foul temperament! You clearly just took a sample of Bertie’s blood from when I took him to [nearby vet] and made a copy of him!”

Me: *trying very hard not to laugh* “Ma’am… that’s… I promise you, that’s not the case. Many cats have similar coats, eyes, and other attributes.”

Woman: “That’s my Bertie! Ugh, look. I’ve got myself a new sugar daddy! Plenty of money to sue the s*** out of you unless you give me back all the cats I’ve lost and you cloned!”

Me: “Ma’am… look… if you want to adopt one or more of these cats, we’ll happily work with you. If you feel the adoption fee is too high, that’s something to discuss with my manager.”

Woman: “Fine! I’ll come back and try again tomorrow. Mark my words though, I WILL get my kitties back from you!”

(She left and I immediately called my manager to tell her what happened. The woman then proceeded to come back for the next three days and repeat the same spiel of us housing cats that were actually clones of other cats, though she wavered between them being her cats or the cats of her friends, and how her new sugar daddy would provide all the money she needed to sue us. After that, however, she apparently grew bored, because we’ve never seen her since.)

What The Beep Are You Eating?!

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 7, 2017

(I am six, and live in an area where most people live on remote plots of land, some of which are small farms. A couple people I know have goats for milk. One of my friends has two goats on their property, one of which is very aggressive and once knocked the wind out of me while I was helping milk it. One day I’m at their house, and their mom serves me soup. It tastes pretty good, and I’m enjoying it quite a bit, when I look over and see one of my friends pouting with her arms crossed.)

Me: “Why aren’t you eating any?”

Friend: “It’s beef soup.”

Me: “So? Beef is good.”

Friend: “No, not ‘beef,’ Beep! BEEP!”

(Beep was the name of her pet goat, the one that knocked the wind out of me. I looked down at my bowl, thought, “Well, I never liked her anyway,” shrugged, and kept eating. She was delicious.)

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