(I’m a huge fan of rock and metal music, so I have brought my kids up with it, although I like pretty much anything. My four-year-old and I are in the dentist waiting room waiting to be seen, and my son is listening to some metal, not very loud as not to disturb anyone else.)

Woman: “You should be ashamed of yourself! Making your kid listen to that heathen spawn!”

Me: “I’m sorry? What’s wrong with it? More to the point, what’s it to you what music my kids listen to?”

Woman: “It’s not Christian! They worship the devil!”

Me: “Not Christian? Your religion doesn’t restrict you in what music style you can or cannot listen to. I have many friends who are both Christian and metal fans.”

Woman: “They are not Christian! They are heathens sent by the devil!”

Me: “Does the bible not say Jesus forgives our sins and loves us no matter what?”

Woman: “Well, yes, but…”

Me: “And does it not say judge lest thee be judged?”

Woman: “But…”

Me: “I’m not religious, and with your judging me, I’m more of a Christian then you are. So, if any of us are going to Hell, it certainly won’t be me. Now, [Son], what do we do to people who judge us purely by our choice of music?”

Son: *whilst doing some devil horns with his free hand* “ROCK ON, LADY!”

(After that, she just sat there giving me the evil eye until we got called in.)

(I’m working as a commissioned salesman at a large music gear retailer. A gentleman comes in soon after we open on a Monday morning and says that he needs a complete music set-up for a newly opened local church: PA, drums, guitar, bass, and keyboard gear. I agree to help, as it has been a slow month and I can use the sale. The guy proceeds to nickel and dime me for every possible discount he can for just under two hours, mentioning that it’s “for a church” at least a dozen times, grinding so hard that in the end, a $12,000 deal is making barely $150 profit.)

Me: “Okay, with the stands and cables it comes to [total].”

Customer: *scratches his chin for a second, looking at the total on the screen* “That still seems a bit high. I really think God would like a better deal.”

Me: *exasperated and ready to just get the guy out of the store* “I’m pretty sure God would also like for me to be able to feed my family this month, too, man.”

Customer: *somewhat sheepish* “Oh, well, yeah, I suppose he would.”

(He paid the quoted price.)

Related:
Thou Shalt Not Use The Lord’s Name To Haggle

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(My coworker takes a call.)

Customer: “I’m calling to tell you I paid my payment.”

(He has gotten a cancel notice on his auto insurance.)

Coworker: “Our records indicate the last payment was paid on [date], and the next payment was due on [date], and it wasn’t made, so the policy is cancelled.”

Customer: “By the blood of Jesus, that payment has been made!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir. The payment was not posted to your account.”

Customer: “I gave my friend money, and by the blood of Jesus, he paid my insurance.”

Coworker: *stunned silence*

(I just started working at this lovely restaurant owned by an elderly couple. I’m taking a Muslim couple’s order.)

Me: “Good afternoon. I’m [My Name]. What can I get you?”

Woman: “Can you tell us which menu items are halal?”

Me: “Would you mind waiting a few minutes so I can ask my manager? He’s also Muslim.”

Man: “We’re not in a hurry.”

(After I talk to the manager and take the couple’s order, another couple from a nearby table starts making racist jokes and tossing derogatory terms around. I tell my manager.)

Manager: “Hello, I heard there was a problem?”

Jerk: “Yeah, can you kick out those freaks? I can’t eat while they’re waiting for the perfect moment to set off a bomb.”

Jerk’s Girlfriend: *nods*

Manager: “First of all, you seem to have already eaten half of your expensive order. Second, I may not look it, but I’m also Muslim. Having said that, insult anyone else and we’re going to throw you out, after but not before making you pay for the meal.”

Jerk: “You can’t do that; I know the owner!”

Manager: “I know him, as well, and he would never associate with bigots like you.”

(The obnoxious couple were kicked out after yelling at our Romanian coworker because her accent was too thick. Her accent is anything but thick; they just looked at her name tag and saw a foreign name. The Muslim couple are now regulars and were blessed with a beautiful baby.)

(At my work, if product comes in, it goes straight to the floor; no holding or back stock is allowed. In the beginning of December, we start to receive Easter product. I am putting it out in our holiday section, right by Christmas, when a man approaches me. He seems agitated, stops a few inches from me, and faces me with his arms tightly crossed. I stay polite as I respond to him.)

Customer: “I can’t believe you are putting up Easter stuff.”

Me: “Well, it’s my job, not my choice. They send it, and I have to put it out; I have no warehouse or backroom to keep it in.”

Customer: “He isn’t even born yet and you are already killing him!”

(Apparently, by doing my job and setting product on a shelf, I personally killed Jesus before he was born.)

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