Even The Batcave Has A Woman’s Restroom

| Gainesville, FL, USA | Bizarre, Theme Of The Month

(I’m the customer in this story. I am with my girlfriend and her sister checking out one of the many Halloween stores that just opened up. I have purple and blue hair, a snapback on, facial piercings, and my arm was around my girlfriend’s shoulders. An older woman approaches me.)

Woman: *says something I don’t catch*

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “Women’s restroom?”

Me: “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t work here.”

Woman: *walks off*

(I didn’t realize until she left that she must have thought that the fact that I was wearing a lanyard meant I was working. It was a Batman lanyard with my girlfriend’s car keys on it.)

Must Have Just Come From The Dark Side Of The Moon

| CA, USA | Extra Stupid, Theme Of The Month

(I am a customer in a store known for employees wearing uniforms of tan khakis and red polo shirts. I am shopping for just a birthday card when another customer comes up to me.)

Customer: “You! CLEARLY you are a manager here. I’m trying to find some printer paper. Can you help me?”

Me: *looks down at my blue jeans and Pink Floyd t-shirt* “Uh, actually I don’t work here, so I can’t help you.”

Customer: *gives me a blank stare*

Me: “I’m just looking for a card for my mother?” *shows him the cards I’m holding in my hand*

Customer: “Oh! That’s why you don’t have a shopping cart, because you don’t need one for something small like that!”

Me: “…yeah. Good luck finding what you need.”

(Don’t know why no shopping cart + rock band shirt = manager in his mind).

Driving 100 km In Another Man’s Shoes

| Roermond, The Netherlands | Bizarre, Crazy Requests

(I work at the customer service desk in a big outdoor/camping store. One of my jobs is to handle returns. Today, a guy comes in. I greet him.)

Me: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Customer: “Yeah, hi. I bought shoes here a while ago and they’re damaged. I want new ones.”

Me: “All right. Did you bring the shoes with you? I would like to take a look.”

(The customer nods and bends down. I know what is about to happen and so does my coworker. I can tell she’s about to laugh and she walks away to make sure the customer doesn’t see her. He takes one shoe off his foot and put it on the desk. It’s smelly and feels warm.)

Customer: “There, you see? It’s damaged!”

(I ask to see his receipt and look up the procedure for this particular brand of shoes. As it turns out, I can’t give him new shoes, but instead, I have to send his shoes in for repair.)

Customer: “But how am I supposed to do that? I can’t go home without having shoes on! I need you to give me new shoes and I want a refund for the money I spent on gas! I drove over 100 km to get here!”

(At this point, I notice his t-shirt. It’s a shirt from a local amateur soccer championship in a town very near to where we are. 12 kilometers, tops.)

Me: “No, sir, I am afraid I can’t do that. I would love to send your shoes in for you. It’s no problem if you decide to come in another time. The procedures won’t change.”

(The customer then, angrily, took his shoe back, grunted and moaned, and hopped away on one leg.)