They Paid The Price

| Adelaide, SA, Australia | Bad Behavior, Money

(I work in the print and copy area of my store. A customer is giving my new coworker a hard time about the cost of copying. I walk over.)

Customer: “Your prices are OUTRAGEOUS; I refuse to pay that much! You’re an idiot! You’re all idiots! You should be doing this for free for me, because of how dumb you all are!”

Me: “What my coworker has explained to you is correct. We price match all of our competitors, and I can guarantee you that we have the cheapest price.”

Customer: “I will NEVER use your services. You are thieves who are trying to rip-off an old woman! I will take my business elsewhere!”

(The customer storms out.)

Coworker: “I bet she’ll be back.”

(A few hours later, the customer returns.)

Customer: *meekly and very politely* “I’d like this done, please.”

History Is Never Old News

| Barrington, RI, USA | History, Technology, Top

(I am working in the print department of an office-supply store. An older customer comes in with a folder of very old newspaper articles.)

Customer: “Hello, young lady. I was just wondering if you could make some copies of these articles for me. They are getting old and I would like to preserve them.”

Me: “Of course!”

Customer: “Thank you very much. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go look around while you do this.”

(I agree, and he hands me the articles. I can see that it is an article about a man who was killed during World War Two. In one of the articles, it shows a picture of the deceased man holding a baby. As the customer has requested, I make copies of the articles that are beginning to fray, rip, and yellow. After making the copies, I quickly laminate them in order to keep them really preserved. The customer comes back.)

Me: “So you know, sir, I noticed that the articles you had were starting to rip, and I assumed that was why you were making the copies. When I finished the copies, I laminated them for you.”

Customer: “I appreciate that young lady, but I can’t afford the lamination.”

Me: “I like history, and I think historical documents are very important to keep. The lamination is free of charge!”

(The customer begins to cry.)

Me: “Sir, are you alright?”

Customer: “Yes, yes. Do you see this baby in this picture? This was me when I was just a few days old. This was the only time my father ever held me before he died. This is all I have to remember him by, and you just helped me to keep them preserved so I can keep his memory alive. Miss, please… can I give you a hug?”

Me: “Of course!”

(He gives me the warmest hug I have ever experienced.)

Customer: “Thank you, miss. You have no idea how happy you just made an old man.”

(I am also crying, due to the joy I gave this customer by taking two seconds to laminate his articles. After pulling away from him, I notice that my manager is also beginning to cry.)

Manager: “Sir, these copies are on the store. Have a nice day, and come see us if you ever need anything else.”

(The customer leaves with a huge smile on his face, and my manager and I are both cheery for the rest of the day. When I arrive at work the next day, I find a small bouquet of flowers sitting on my desk with a note from the customer.)

Note From The Customer: “I picked these flowers for you from my garden. They aren’t much, but I was hoping I could brighten your day as much as you brightened mine.”

(I still have that note, along with one of the flowers that I kept and pressed in a scrap book. I will never forget that man, and the father he never knew.)

Bottle, Bottle, On The Wall, Who Is The Dumbest Of Them All

| Huddersfield, England, UK | Extra Stupid, Food & Drink

(A customer half staggers inside.)

Customer: “Excuse me mate, where are ya’ beers?”

(I indicate to the left of the till where our alcohol aisle is. I suspect that he might already be intoxicated. I tell him where the alcohol section is, but keep a close eye on him. The customer wanders slowly up the aisle, inspecting our cans and bottles of cheap alcohol. He makes it all the way to the end before stopping. There, he proceeds to stand, facing into the corner, as if he is taking a leak. I get out from behind the till and approach him.)

Me: “Are you alright?”

(The customer jumps, startled, and turns to face me. His eyes are bloodshot, yet he doesn’t smell of alcohol.)

Customer: “Oh yeah! I’m glad you’re here. You see, I want to get these beers here.”

(He points to some beers that he can see on the top shelf in the corner. He paws, like a cat at the glass separating him from the beers.)

Customer: “I can’t get to ’em. So, I was wondering if you could just go in the back, go around, and get ’em for me?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. You want me to get… those beers?”

Customer: “Yeah! That’s the ones. So, like, if you could just… go around and get them.”

(I stare at him blankly for a couple of seconds, then decide to release the customer of his misery.)

Me: “Mate… that’s a mirror.”

Doesn’t Have Cold Feet About Sharing

| London, England, UK | Bizarre, Health & Body

(I work in a rather high-end furniture and house-ware store. I’m helping a well-dressed, well-spoken lady in her fifties choose some items from the basement floor.)

Customer: “I’m sorry I have to walk so slowly. You know, I had some major foot surgery done just last month and have not entirely recovered yet.”

Me: “Not a problem at all. I must say you’re doing wonderfully well. In fact, I would have never guessed if you didn’t tell me.”

Customer: “Yes, it’s getting better now, but I was in such pain for the first few days; I’m telling you.”

Me: “Well, I sure hope you’ll be alright soon. There, I’ll carry that for you, at least.”

(We make our way back upstairs, where the tills are located. I’m carrying her items, and we’re making small talk throughout. I ring her up and hand her the carrier bag and receipt.)

Customer: “Yes, I was telling you about my feet. I have some pictures; let me show you…”

(Before I can think of a reply, she leans over the counter and proceeds to show me several photos of her feet covered in angry septic sores.)

Me: “Well… that sure looks bad. I’m glad it’s all sorted now.”

Customer: “Terrible, isn’t it? So much pus, you have no idea of the smell! Absolutely rotten! Oh, well, thank you and have a nice day!”

(She leaves. My manager walks by.)

Manager: “Are you alright? What was that about?”

Me: “Never mind. Any chance I could get a late lunch-break today?”

The Breast Advice

| AR, USA | Family & Kids, Health & Body

(A lone customer, obviously pregnant, is looking at the wall of pacifiers and bottles, looking more and more confused as she stands there. She turns to me.)

Customer: “Hey, do you have any kids?”

Me: “Yes, I have a three-year-old daughter.”

Customer: “Oh, thank God! Which one of these bottles did you use? I don’t know which one is the best one!”

Me: “Oh, my daughter never drank from a bottle.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “My daughter never drank from a bottle. We didn’t need them.”

Customer: “B…but then how did you feed her?!”

Me: “With my boobs.”

(The customer digests this for a few seconds, then blushes crimson and runs off, leaving me a little confused, offended, and worried about the child she is carrying.)