Repeated Lottery Numbers

, | Australia | At The Checkout, Bizarre, Money

(I’ve been working here for two years and never been jokingly asked for the lotto numbers before.)

Me: “Is there anything else today?”

Customer #1: “The winning lotto numbers?”

Me: “Aha, sir, if I had them I doubt I’d be working here.”

(The customer laughs and walks away. About six hours later I’m serving someone else.)

Me: “Anything else?”

Customer #2: “Oh, yes, I’d also like the winning lotto numbers!”

Me: *pause* “Huh. You know, that’s the second time I’ve been asked that today!”

Customer #2: “Ha, weird. So do you have them?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I gave them to the first guy. It wouldn’t be fair to tell you as well.”

Customer #2: “Touché.”

Southern Discomfort

| Washington DC, USA | Bad Behavior, Bizarre, Food & Drink

(I am giving out samples of hot sauce with tuna salad. An old man with a long grey beard and a thick Southern accent comes up to my table…)

Me: “Hello, sir, would you like to try some tuna salad with hot sauce?”

Customer: “Maybe. Can I see the hot sauce bottle?”

Me: *thinking he wanted to see the ingredients* “All right, sure.” *I hand him the bottle*

Customer: *carefully shakes the bottle, then tips it upside down to see how much is left*

Me: “Sir?”

Customer: “Good girl, you’ve used a lot of it.”

Me: “Well, I’ve been serving it to a lot of people.”

Customer: “Yee-hee!”

(The man unscrews the bottle, then tilts his head back and starts shaking hot sauce into his mouth.)

Me: “Sir! Sir, I have to ask for that back now!”

Customer: “Hee-hee. You can’t say you’re Cajun unless you can do that. You need one of those little bottles. I can chug them. Can’t call yourself Southern otherwise. Yee-hee!”

(The man handed back the bottle and walked off. I sanitized the bottle as thoroughly as possible!)

Breaking Bread With An Awesome Kid

| NY, USA | Family & Kids, Food & Drink

(I work at a supermarket in New York City. I generally work in the bread department, making sure the shelves are stocked and the bread gets rotated. A four-year-old girl and her mother enter the section to look at the bread while I’m kneeling on the floor, rotating bread on a bottom shelf.)

Little Girl: *from behind me* “Hello!”

(I turn around to see her.)

Me: “Hi!”

Little Girl: “Whatcha doing?”

(I’m not sure how to explain my job to a four-year-old in a way she’ll understand.)

Me: “I’m, uh, counting the bread.”

(The little girl looks around the section with eyes wide.)

Little Girl: “How much bread is there?”

Me: “12.”

(Her eyes go as big as saucers and she claps her hands to her cheeks in over-exaggerated surprise.)

Little Girl: “That’s a LOT of bread! Mommy, did you hear that? There’s a LOT of bread!”

(She and her mother stuck around a little longer while she told me all about what her favorite bread is and how she liked that it was warm out today, because she thought it was never going to be warm outside ever again. It made my day.)