Customer: “I want a Bible that’s in English, not a translation.”
Me: “I’m sorry, sir. English, but not a translation?”
Customer: “I want the original Bible! I don’t want the New Testament Greek one you have. I want the original, but in English.”
I end up leaving him in the King James Version section.
Me: *While walking away quickly* “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”
Related:
Lost In Translation
I work in a delicatessen in a very Italian-American neighborhood. Around Easter time, we sell a traditional quiche-like dish called a pizza chiena that’s filled with ham and cheese. A woman comes in, presumably from out of town. She points to the pizza chiena through the glass.
Customer: “Oh, what’s this? It looks interesting!”
Me: “It’s called pizza chiena! It’s very popular around this time of year.”
Customer: “What does it taste like?”
Me: “Well, ma’am, I’m Jewish, so I haven’t actually sampled it myself because there’s ham in it, but—”
Apparently, this is the wrong thing to say.
Customer: “How dare you try to sell me something that you’ve never eaten?! It’s your responsibility to know your product!”
I can only stand there in shock as this woman screams at me.
Customer: “You know what? I’m not moving from this counter until you eat a piece in front of me! I’m going to watch you to make sure you do!”
I’m probably moments away from bursting into tears, but thankfully, my coworker notices the commotion and swoops in to save me.
Coworker: “I’ve tried the pizza chiena, ma’am. It’s very good!”
The woman INSTANTLY calms down like a light switch has been flipped.
Customer: *Sweetly* “Oh, okay! I’ll take a piece!”
My coworker cut her a piece and packed it up for her to take, which she did with a huge smile and then went on her merry way like she hadn’t just been yelling at me — no apology, nothing. We never saw her again.
I’m in a big-name bookstore that also sells toys, puzzles, and so on. I come here all the time, so often that sometimes people mistake me for an employee. They are usually apologetic when they realize I’m not.
Old Lady: “Excuse me, dear. Where is your Christian section?”
Me: “I can take you to the religious section.”
I take her to the right part of the store when she realizes something.
Old Lady: “You don’t work here, do you?”
Me: “No, I actually don’t, but I’m here all the time.”
Old Lady: “YOU’RE GOING TO H*** FOR TAKING ANOTHER PERSON’S JOB!”
At a family gathering, I, the oldest and only adult grandchild with twenty-five-plus immediate cousins, am playing games and telling stories with all the kids. They get really interested in my husband’s work as a cook, and the conversation somehow shifts to him teaching the kids about vegetables and how differently Americans tend to make them compared to other countries. This brings him to discussing how humans have been hunting and gathering for food. Note that most of my family are part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, while my husband and I are not.
Husband: “Okay, you know where our ancestors are from, right? Where do they say our ancestors come from?”
An eight-year-old cousin pipes up.
Cousin: “HEAVENLY FATHER!”
Me: *Cracks up* “He’s asking where we’re from, not how humans were created!”
At least, I assume that’s how it works in their belief system
Cousin: “Oh… JESUS CHRIST!”
Me: “Honey… you need to tell them what ‘ancestors’ means first because they have zero idea what you’re talking about.”
My husband explains and the kids seem to get it.
Husband: “Okay, and what did our ancestors eat?”
Cousin: “DINOSAURS!”
My husband finally stopped asking questions and just went on with his point. I silently laughed and wondered what interesting teachings I’ve missed in the church.
One day, I’m home with my kids when there is a knock on the front door. My two huskies are excited to see who came to visit and my two kids are in the background; my five-year-old daughter is keeping her younger brother, almost a year old, entertained with toys.
I peek through the side window by the door and see two younger men, probably in their early twenties, in nice-looking suits and ties. They’re holding brochures in their hands and standing there patiently. I answer the door.
Me: “Can I help you?”
I’m holding my two huskies back behind me. Most people that see huskies are a bit hesitant and think they’re wolves and keep at bay a bit more, but not [Guy #1].
Guy #1: *Joyfully* “Hello there! I hope things are well today. We’re coming from [New Church] in the area, and we wanted to talk to people around the area to let them know we’re here and how we’d like to share the word of God.”
I’m not a religious person. I don’t agree with how churches function in general, but I don’t tell others how to be religious and let them do what they want.
I give the two guys kind of a distasteful look.
Me: “I appreciate your time, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in anything you’re having to share. I hope you two have a good day.”
[Guy #2] has been standing about six feet behind [Guy #1].
Guy #2: “Thanks for your time.”
And he turns around to start to leave. I move back a couple of steps into my house and I start to shut the front door. [Guy #1] decides it’s okay to step into my door and push a brochure into my face, and he tries to start talking again about their mission.
I snap. I step right up into [Guy #1]’s face since he is now standing in my doorway just inside my house and I have my two kids behind me. I have no idea what this guy is trying to do or what he is capable of.
I growl at him as I jab my finger into his chest.
Me: “I don’t know who the f*** you think you are, but if you don’t step out of my house right now, I’m going to f*** you up.”
Behind me, my female husky is now growling and showing her teeth. She is very protective of the kids, and with me worked up and angry with [Guy #1], she’s gone into protective mode. To keep her from coming at the guy, I have to grab her collar and hold her back.
[Guy #2] turns and runs while [Guy #1] stumbles backward, stammering, trying to say something. Maybe he’s trying to apologize, but I won’t let him get a word out.
I scold [Guy #1] more as he keeps stumbling backward.
Me: “I politely told you I wasn’t interested in what you had to say, and I even told you guys to have a good day, and you are trying to step into my house, uninvited! I’m home with my kids. I don’t know you, and I sure as h*** will f*** you up to protect my kids, and I won’t stop my dog from tearing your s*** up, either, should you try to push your way into my house.”
[Guy #1] was now white as a ghost, and he turned around and ran off.
My wife got home about four hours later and I told her about the guys that came to the door and what transpired. She told me that I treated them rudely, and she said she would have just slammed the door in their face. I told her slamming the door in their face would have been rude. I politely told them I wasn’t interested and told them to have a good day. It wasn’t until [Guy #1] stepped into the door that I threatened them.
