(Our furniture company has a card that we use to finance customers’ cash for their payment; they then get a certain amount of months to pay it off. This customer has just received his. I’m trying to take a payment and the card keeps getting declined.)

Customer: “So strange, I just got this card!”

Me: “Sir, you need to call the number on the card and activate it.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

(The customer calls. It is a very long automated system full of menus and submenus. It takes the customer five to ten minutes to talk to an actual person.)

Customer: “So, you’ll activate my card?”

Woman On Phone: “Yes, I’ll transfer you to the automated system; you just put in a PIN and it will be done.”

Customer: “Thanks!” *hangs up without activating the card*

(It took us TWO more tries and fifteen more minutes. He eventually got his furniture.)

(In this story, I am sitting downstairs with my husband and our roommate. I am on our roommate’s laptop doing a search for them as they are terrible about finding things online. My husband is playing a game on his phone while I do this.)

Husband: “There are these two other players in the game who always talk to each other in this other language. I don’t know if it is Russian or Hebrew. You’re good at that sort of thing; take a look.”

(I am currently only fluent in English, but I am learning Swedish on a language app. I can usually tell which language something is in, although there are times where I can’t. I go over to look at the phone, he shows me, and I take a quick look and go back to what I was doing.)

Me: “That looks like it is either Greek or Russian. I didn’t get a good look at it.”

Husband: “Probably Russian, then; nobody speaks Greek nowadays since it is a dead language.”

Me: *looks back up and gives him a strange look* “I think you are confusing that with Latin.”

Husband: *shrugs* “I know Latin is, but I am pretty sure Greek is a dead language, too.”

Me: *looks back and forth between him and the laptop I am currently on* “No, there are still people in the world who speak Greek.”

Husband: “Not that many, though.”

(I just stared at him for a few seconds and then dropped the subject to continue what I was doing, but internally I was shaking my head. I looked it up the next day; Greek is spoken by about 13 million people.)

(I answer the telephones at a large emergency room.)

Me: “Emergency Department.”

Patient: “I was there yesterday, and was given medicine. The nurse told me if I develop a rash, I should come back into the ER.”

Me: “Okay.”

Patient: “I have a rash now. What should I do?”

(I’m working the sales floor one day and hear a page for customer assistance to the automotive department. I check the page and head over there. I greet the man I find standing there.)

Me: “How are you today, sir? Can I help you find anything?”

Customer: “Good. I think I’m all set, though. I was looking for a way to pump old gasoline out of my car’s tank, and I think this will do me fine.” *shows me the product in his hand*

(I notice the customer is holding a drill pump. For those who aren’t familiar, a drill pump is a small plastic device that attaches to the chuck of a hand drill. It has fittings on each end that accept a garden hose. They’re primarily used to pump small quantities of water or other non-flammable liquids, and they are nice because they are portable.)

Me: “Sir, drill pumps aren’t meant to be used with flammable liquids. The exposed electric motor on a drill can ignite gasoline vapors and cause a fire or even an explosion.”

Customer: “Really? Wow! I’m glad you were here. That could have turned into a bad situation in a hurry!”

Me: “No problem, glad to help. I’d stick with a squeeze or shaker pump. They’ll take longer but are safe to use with gasoline.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I think this one will still do the job for me. I’ll just use my battery drill.”

Me: “…”

(I work at a popular chain of pet stores. I am casually browsing the treat aisle in my down time,  as the store is pretty dead, looking for something to keep my dog busy. We sell a wide variety of chews, including Bully Sticks, which are made of dried bull penis. A lot of people ask what they are made of, and some are horrified by my answer. This 70-year-old lady is different.)

Customer: “Excuse me. Could I trouble you with a question?”

Me: “Sure thing. What can I help you with?”

Customer: *holding up a Bully Stick* “What is this?”

Me: *trying to avoid saying the word “penis” to a nearly 70-year-old woman* “It’s a chew for dogs. It’s very tough and tends to take a long time to wear down, so it’s good for heavy chewers.”

Customer: “No, I mean what is it made of?”

Me: “It’s ah… um… It’s dried bull penis.”

Customer: “Okay, but is it beef?”

Me: *taken aback* “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Is this made of beef?”

Me: “It’s made out of bull so… yes.”

Customer: “No, you said it was made out of bull, but I want to know if it is made out of beef!”

Me: “Ma’am… bull is just the name for male cattle.”

Customer: “I don’t care what it is the name of! IS THIS BEEF?!”

Me: “Um… No, it is not.”

Customer: “Oh, well, I’ll find something else, then.” *ditches the Bully Stick and wanders off happily*