We Serve A Different Kind Of Meat On A Pole

, , , , | Right | November 7, 2019

(My parents manage a local BBQ restaurant. The restaurant is busy for dinner. An elderly gentleman walks in.)

Elderly Man: “Is this a strip club?”

Mom: *bursts out laughing*

Elderly Man: *completely serious* “I heard a new strip club opened up on this road. Is this it?”

Dad: “Umm, no, it is not.”

Elderly Man: “Oh.” *leaves like nothing happened*

(My parents just looked at each other and laughed before going back to work.)

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Will Have A Crack At Telling Your Mother

, , , , , | Related | November 5, 2019

(My mother loves gardening. However, she always wears baggy pants with no elastic in the waistband, so when she is gardening, the pants ride down and show off her lower half. My mother has spent the day gardening and now we’re having dinner.)

Sister: “How was your day, [My Name]?”

Me: “Fine, I saw the moon all day.”

Mother: *chiming in* “Really?”

Me: “Yes, with a single crack.”

Mother: “Oh, that is interesting.”

Sister: “Mum, she is talking about your lower half!” 

(My dad who had just walked in started laughing; my mum was not happy.)

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I’m Gonna Strip Just Like Your Daddy

, , , , | Right | November 5, 2019

(I am white. One day when I am working the till, an older, very black man who is definitely not related to me — or my father — comes in.)

Customer: “Hi, I’d like to pick up my clean shirts and drop off this one I’m wearing.”

Me: “The one you’re wearing?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’ll just go there—” *gestures to a corner of the store* “—and change.”

Me: “Uh… are you sure?”

Customer: “It’s okay. Just pretend like I’m your dad.”

(The customer wanders over into the corner, hides behind some clothes racks, and strips.)

Me: “…”

(The customer finishes changing, comes back out wearing one of his clean shirts, and hands me the dirty one.)

Customer: “See? Just like your dad.” *grins and cheerfully leaves the store*

(My coworkers look completely baffled.)

Me: “I don’t know what just happened.”

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Do You Have To Let It Lingerie

, , , , | Right | November 4, 2019

(We have an outage that affects the registers in about a quarter of the store. We quickly make signs pointing customers to the closest working registers and instruct our employees to tell customers the same. I get a lot of complaints about the inconvenience, but this one takes the cake.)

Customer: “Excuse me, are you the manager? I have a complaint!”

Me: “How can I help you?”

Customer: “I wanted to buy shoes, but they said they couldn’t ring me up there. They said I had to go to—” *drops his voice to a barely-audible whisper* “—women’s lingerie.”

Me: “Yes, I’m afraid a number of our registers are out and we have to direct people to the next closest register.”

Customer: “Yes, but why women’s lingerie?*he’s using the same, incredibly soft whisper*

Me: “It’s the closest register to the shoe department.”

Customer: *looking flustered* “But, I can’t be seen buying something in women’s lingerie. What would people think?”

Me: “Well, you’d be buying men’s shoes, and I think all the customers know that there’s an outage…”

Customer: “But they might think I’m buying women’s lingerie!

Me: “Or… you can use any other working register. There’s one in the men’s sportswear section that’s working.”

Customer: “Oh… oh, that will work. Thank you.”

(He walked away. I turned to an employee who had been close enough to hear and whispered, “Women’s lingerie!” and they just started giggling.)

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Not Being Very Grown-Up About It

, , , , | Right | November 2, 2019

(A nervous-looking 30-something comes up to the till.)

Me: “Afternoon, can I help you with anything?”

Nervous Guy: “Um… I’m looking for some toys.”

Me: *laughing* “Well, we are a toy shop!”

Nervous Guy: “Yeah, I’m looking for toys for… grownups.”

Me: “There’s no age restriction for toys here. I’ll show you around and see what we can find.”

(I take the customer around the shop, asking about what he needs and whether its for a friend or child, but all he comes out with is “grownup toys” and is getting more frustrated by the second.)

Nervous Guy: “No! I need grownup toys!”

(The shop is starting to fill up with families and they notice his behaviour.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but if you can’t tell me specifically what you are looking for, then I can’t help you.”

Nervous Guy: “Grownup toys! You know! Vibrators! Things that go buzz!

(He starts to make a buzzing noise, and I’m really trying hard not to laugh. The parents aren’t so reserved and burst out laughing, causing the guy to turn bright red.)

Me: “Sir, do you know what kind of shop you are in?”

Nervous Guy: “Yes.”

Me: “A toy shop… A children’s toy shop…”

Nervous Guy: *looks like he is going to explode* “YES, I KNOW!”

Me: “And you think that we would stock adult toys?”

Nervous Guy: “You don’t, do you?”

Me: “Nope. Might I suggest [Well-Known Adult Store] a few towns over? I hear they stock a wide selection of adult toys, marital aids, and lingerie that might suit your needs?”

Nervous Guy: *turns ten shades of red and mumbles* “Ah… Yes. Thank you.”

(I have never seen one person bolt so fast from my shop, ever! It took me hours to get over it and some of our regulars still ask about the “grownup” man.)

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