(An older woman in her 50s needs some help picking out a new MP3 player.)

Me: “Okay, so do you have any preferences?”

Woman: “Well, do you have any that are waterproof?”

Me: “Not really…”

Woman: “I had one before, but it’s broken.”

Me: “Oh, okay.”

Woman: “Yeah, it was my own fault though, I think.”

Me: “How come?”

Woman: “Well, I put it in here–” *points and looks at her breasts* “–while I was at the gym. I guess I was sweating a bit too much!”

Me: “…”

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Hotel Guest: *glances at front desk* “Do you have any newspapers?”

Me: “If there aren’t any out on the counter, we’re all out.”

Hotel Guest: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes sir, I’m sure. If I had any more, I assure you they’d be sitting there on the counter.”

Hotel Guest: “Okay, is there one in there?” *points to trashcan behind the front desk*

Me: “Um, sir… are you asking if there are any newspapers… in the trash?”

Hotel Guest: “Yes.”

Me: “Um… well… sir… I don’t think you want to look through here, there’s food and all sorts of gross–”

Hotel Guest: “I want to look through there for a newspaper.”

Me: “Um, okay…”

(He brings the trash to the front and starts digging through it.)

Hotel Guest: “UGH! This trash is DISGUSTING!” *storms off*

(There was a gas station literally 100 feet away from the hotel. This guy would rather dig through the trash for a newspaper than walk up the street and buy one.)

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Me: “Hi, can I help you?”

Customer: “We’re looking at the toilets. What does the ‘flush rating’ on the box mean?”

Me: “That indicates the amount of flush power.”

Customer: “But what is it measuring?”

Me: “It’s just a general rating to give you an idea of the power of the flush on this model.”

Customer: “And the picture of the basket of golf balls on the box?”

Me: “This is just an illustration claiming this toilet can flush a full bucket of golf balls without clogging.”

Customer: “I worked in an old building once, and whenever I would use the toilet there it would clog up.”

(I smile blandly and pray she doesn’t continue.)

Customer: “Maybe the golf ball toilet would be good then. I mean, if it can handle a whole basket of balls… right?

(My smile wanes, and I hope she doesn’t start describing shape, color, consistency.)

Customer: “Well, food for thought I guess. Oh, dear, I shouldn’t say ‘food’ when it comes to toilets!”

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(I notice an older woman and her twenty-something long-haired son struggling to find a certain brush in our hair care aisle.)

Me: “Can I help you with anything?”

Mother: “Help me? Help ME? The only way you could help me is to make my Fabio son over here stop dating thirteen-year-old girls!”

(Note: we are VERY generous in offering frozen yogurt samples in those tiny paper cups that could fit on your thumb.)

Me: “Here you go, our six choices!” *offers samples*

(The customer takes the samples and shoves the whole thing in her mouth and sucks contents out. When done, she puts the cups back on the counter with yogurt and a LITTLE bit of saliva dripping off the sides. She scoots them in my direction.)

Me: *stares back, thinking, are you serious?*

Customer: *stares back at me for what seems like forever*

Me: “There is a trashcan right below you that you could put those in.”

Customer: “Ew, I’m not touching those! That’s your job.”

(The customer walks away, leaving me staring at the messy glob of cups on our front counter.)

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