Revenge Needs To Be Just As Rich(ie)

| Kent, England, UK | Related | December 20, 2015

(A coworker is serving a male customer. As I walk past, I catch sight of his T-shirt, which says “Lionel Richie Appreciation Society.” The customer notices me looking at it.)

Customer: *chuckling* “This? It’s because of a bet.”

Coworker: *smiling* “One you lost?”

Customer: “Not quite. My brother bought it for me for my birthday and bet me I wouldn’t wear it. I wore it for almost a week at the Isle of Wight recently.”

(My co-worker and I both laugh. A little old lady walks over.)

Little Old Lady: “Oh, I love Lionel Richie! He’s so lovely!”

(She walks off.)

Customer: “Although that did tend to happen a bit… Still, my brother’s birthday isn’t for a few more months. Gives me plenty of time to think of my revenge…”

No Excuse For Bad Behavior

| London, England, UK | Right | December 9, 2015

(I am walking past as a customer who is trying to get the manager’s attention.)

Customer: *practically shouting* “EXCUSE ME? HELLO?!”

Manager: “Is that how you talk to people?”

Customer: “Well, you were ignoring me.”

Manager: “I didn’t realise you were talking to me, but is that how you talk to people?”

Customer: “Well, I needed to know something.”

Manager: “I don’t care if I work here or not. You don’t talk to people like that, so, no, I won’t be helping you.”

(I smiled at the manager and thought, good for him, not letting the customer talk to him like crap!)

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Not Quite A Toast To Intelligence

| | Right | December 9, 2015

(Two employees who speak minimal English seemed to be having difficulty dealing with a customer. I go over to see if I can help.)

Me: “Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Customer: “Yes. I’m looking for uncooked toast.”

Me: “You mean bread? Our bakery de—”

Customer: “No. uncooked toast.”

(I am momentarily stumped. Then…)

Me: “Can you describe uncooked toast?”

Customer: “Yeah, It comes in slices, and you can put four of them in the toaster.”

Me: “Yeah, I think we have that…”

(I show him a package of sliced bread.)

Me: “Is this what you’re looking for?”

Customer: “Yes, finally.”

(He leaves. I turn to coworkers.)

Me: “Sliced bread. He wanted sliced bread…”

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There’s A Meth To His Madness

| Australia | Working | December 7, 2015

(I’ve been working a long shift and spy an older guy checking out a display of soft drinks. Thinking he is trying to choose, I suggest:)

Me: “The full range is in the drinks aisle if you wanted an easier choice.”

Customer: “Oh, no, I didn’t want any. I just wanted to know how much sugar is in it.”

Me: “Well, it’s soft drink, so probably lots.”

(He nods, then picks up the sugar free one.)

Customer: “What about this stuff? Any better?”

Me: “You don’t want that either. It has methamphetamine in it.”

(He pauses after a few seconds, and looks up at me.)

Customer: “I don’t think that’s what you meant, is it?”

(I catch the gaffe and apologise.)

Me: “I mean aspartame!”

Customer: *laughs* “It probably has all of it in there somewhere, anyway.”

Dealing With A Spot Of Bother

| Bristol, England, UK | Right | December 1, 2015

(I work in a small store, and I find that customers talk to the staff more than anywhere I’ve worked. I currently have a fairly large spot in the middle of my forehead, which I am too lazy to cover with makeup but no one has commented on all night. An hour before we close, this happens:)

Customer: “You look like you’ve been shot in the head!”

Me: “Mhm…”

Customer: “I’d know; I used to be a police officer.”

Me: *nods, clearly uncomfortable as he’s speaking quite loudly in a small store*

Customer: “Well, you ladies have a nice night now! Look after that bullet wound!” *laughs and leaves*

Coworker: *to me* “…I hope he gets shot in the head.”

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