(I am looking through the selection of models at my local games workshop. It’s a very successful chain of stores that sells model soldiers for a miniature wargame. I’m currently looking at a rather gory and explicit undead model.)

Me: “Wow, this guy is pretty gruesome!”

(Note: I’m saying this quietly to myself in an excited tone because I like the model. Suddenly, the manager is right in front of me with a stern look on his face.)

Manager: “Look pal, I can’t have you making disparaging remarks in my store.”

Me: “Pardon?”

Manager: “If a parent comes in looking to buy miniatures and hears you talking about how ‘gruesome’ they are, that could be a lost customer. If I lose customers, I can’t stay open, and that means my 300 regular players have nowhere to play.”

Me: “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. This model is undead. He’s supposed to look gruesome and ghoully, so I was complimenting it. I was going to pick up one myself.”

Manager: “Well, your comments are scaring away my customers, so just be quiet, okay?”

Me: “Well, you’ve just scared off a potential customer yourself!”

I am walking into a store with my two daughters. The younger one, who is seven, is going through the list of relatives she wants to buy Christmas gifts for. As she gets to “Grandma,” she looks up at her big sister.

Daughter: “Help me find some old lady clothes for Grandma!”

This story is part of the Family-At-Christmas Roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

23 Crazy Stories About Mothers-In-Law, And The Interesting Relationships We Have With Them

Read the next Family-At-Christmas Roundup story!

Read the Family-At-Christmas Roundup!

(I am working the register over Christmas.)

Me: “Find everything today?”

Customer: “Yup.”

(Note: she is silent through the transaction, which includes a gift card.)

Me: “How much would you like on this?”

Customer: “Oh, sorry. Can I have $150?”

Me: “No problem.”

Customer: *after paying* “Can you do me a favor?” *she hands me the gift card* “The next customer you see that you think could use this, could you give it to them?”

Me: *stunned* “…Of course!”

(After a minute another customer comes up, a visibly upset young woman.)

Me: “Hi! How are you?”

Customer #2: “I’m okay, thanks.”

(Clearly she is not ok, but she is trying very hard to be pleasant. She is getting very basic items: milk, bread, eggs, etc. Nothing very festive.)

Me: “So your total comes out to $0.00.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “The person before you gave me a $150 gift card to use for the next person I thought could use it. You look like you’re having a rough day, so here are your groceries, and there’s about $130 left on this card.”

(The customer just started crying. Once she could, she thanked me about 100 times. Made my whole Christmas season.)

(I work at a underwear store that sells both female and male underwear and sleepwear. I’m a female and the customer is a male. The shop is quite small.)

Me: “Hi, welcome. How can I assist you?”

Customer: “Er, do you have any new pyjama shorts?” *points at the ladies section*

Me: “Sorry, we don’t have any new stock currently. Is there something else you would like to buy?”

Customer: “What about the panties?”

Me: “Oh, yes. We have new stocks for those; they just came in yesterday. They are all there.”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, they are new! What size do you think I’m wearing?”

Me: *already in a state of shock* “Oh, I think if it was you a size ‘M’ would be alright.”

Customer: “But I was previously wearing size ‘S’!”

(He pulls down his pants and “shows” me. Some things you can never unsee.)

(I work at a call center for an online store. My job includes fraud prevention. If a caller dials in to place an order that seems out of place, I let my manager know. This is one of those times.)

Me: “So, I’ve got a customer on the line here that uh… placed an order for a really expensive product. Expedited shipping. They want a tracking number for it. I’m not liking this.”

Manager: “Do the billing and shipping match?”

Me: “Nope. Completely different states, too.”

Manager: “Hmm… did they order anything before?”

Me: “Oh, yeah! They placed [order].”

(After a few minutes of silent research…)

Manager: *smiling* “Transfer them to me.”

Me: “Okay?”

(He puts it on speaker.)

Manager: “Thank you for holding. This is [Manager], manager in charge. How can I help you?”

Fraudster: “Yeah, I’m pretty mad at you guys right now. Been waitin’ for twenty godd*** minutes for a single trackin’ number! The last associate that talked to me is an incompetent b****!”

Manager: “Oh, well, I’m sorry to hear about that, sir. You mentioned that you were looking for a tracking number, is that right?”

Fraudster: “Yeah! And while you’re at it just fire the last b**** I spoke to! She’s f***ing useless as h***!”

Manager: “It’s going to be a few moments while I pull up the number. But how’re you doing?”

Fraudster: “Well… now I’m doing good. You know what you’re doing, unlike that—”

Manager: “That’s good to hear. Glad you’re not feeling guilty or anything.”

Fraudster: “For… what?”

Manager: “For the fraud orders you’ve been placing on our website.”

Fraudster: “Uh…”

Manager: “I’ll be honest with you: I know what you’re doing. I’ve known for a couple of weeks now. So, tell me, how many cards have you stolen?”

Fraudster: *scared* “Ju-just two—”

Manager: “Hmm, okay. Well, I work pretty close with [other state’s police department]. So, I’m gonna give you two choices. You can either turn yourself in like the good guy I’m sure you are. Or you can just sit there while I have them down there in a few hours, embarrassing you and your family.”

Fraudster: “O-oh, God. L-look, I—”

Manager: “I’ve got them on speed dial.”

Fraudster: “I’ll turn myself in!”

Manager: *extremely cheerful* “Oh, good. Now, what time should they expect you so I can let them know?”

Fraudster: “T-ten o’clock in the mornin’.”

Manager: “They’ll be waiting. Have yourself a good day, sir.”

(And yes, he did turn himself in!)