The Female Of The Species Is More Playful Than The Male

| Anchorage, AK, USA | Right | June 27, 2013

(Our store has a name that could easily be that of an adult establishment. I happened to be in the back room when a customer calls.)

Me: “[Store Name], how may I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, do you have any male toys?”

Me: “‘Mail’ as in toys that go in the mail, or toys for boys?”

Caller: “Toys that go in the mail.”

Me: “Well, we have a toy that can be sent like a postcard, otherwise—”

Caller: “No, not toys that go in the M-A-I-L, toys that go in the M-A-L-E!”

Me: “Uh… we sell children’s toys.”

Caller: “Oh, oh darn! We’re looking for adult toys!”

(The customer yells to someone not on the line.)

Caller: “Hey Billy, they don’t have ’em!”

Me: “Good luck in your search!”

(I am very glad it was me who answered, and not my younger, more innocent coworker!)

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Get A Yo-Yo Because YOLO

| Oshawa, ON, Canada | Romantic | May 29, 2013

(A couple in their twenties and their three young children come into the store. The kids quickly start playing at a table we’ve set up and seem content to stay there quietly while their parents look around. Our store encourages its employees to play with small toys while we work to promote their sale; I’ve got a yo-yo.)

Husband: “Oh, sweetie, look at this! Can I get this?”

Wife: “No! I’m not getting you Hobbit LEGO for your 27th birthday!”

Husband: “Aw, but sweetie—”

Wife: “No!”

Husband: *spots something else* “Oh, honey—”

Wife: “No!”

Husband: *spots my yo-yo* “Yo-yos! Where are the yo-yos?”

(I show him, and he gets giddy with excitement as he sees some of the trick yo-yos we have for sale. He grabs one and hurries to his wife.)

Husband: “Honey, look, yo-yos! Can I—”

Wife: “No! Honestly, you’re worse than the kids!”

Giving More Than His Two Cents

| Hamden, CT, USA | Right | February 28, 2013

(A male customer buys nothing but a water and is checking out with me.)

Me: “Have a nice day!” *big smile*

Customer: “You too!”

(The customer leaves with no issue and is gone for perhaps a minute before he comes storming back in the exit door.)

Customer: “Did you charge me 5 cents for this water?” *waving receipt in the air*

Me: “The water itself is two dollars and then we have the deposit fee.”

(There is a 5-cent deposit on all beverages in my state. Period. You get it back when and if you recycle it at a machine that gives vouchers. It has been this way for as long as I can remember in my 22 years.)

Customer: “So you charged me 5 cents?!”

Me: “It’s not an extra five cents, Sir, there’s just a deposit.”

Customer: “I want my 5 cents back!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, it’s a state law. All beverages have a 5 cent deposit.”

Customer: “You can’t do that! It’s not displayed. I want my 5 cents back!”

Me: “Sir, I can’t give you a nickel, I’d be a nickel short in my till.”

Customer: “You need to give me my 5 cents back! It isn’t on a sign! You have to have a sign about it!”

Me: *shocked pause* “Let me call my manager… one second.”

(A new manager approaches and asks what the problem is. As the customer is obviously irate, he takes him back to his office to talk, something you really aren’t meant to do. When their meeting is finished, the customer storms out of the office.)

Manager: “I should have just given him the five cents. I think we just lost a customer.”

Me: “…I think we can survive losing that particular customer.”

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Dinosaur-Brained

| Melbourne, VIC, Australia | Right | February 4, 2013

Customer: “Excuse me, will my son like this for his birthday? He loves dinosaurs.”

(I examine the gift; it’s a set of various plastic fossils.)

Me: “Well, it depends on how into dinosaurs he is. If he just thinks they’re cool, then it’ll be fine. If he’s into palaeontology at all, though, he’ll be disappointed because none of those are actually dinosaurs.”

Customer: “What? Don’t be stupid! He loves dinosaurs! I know what a dinosaur is!”

Me: “Well, right there you have a Pterodactyl, two Synapsids including the famous Dimetrodon, a Plesiosaur, and a Tiktaalik. None of those are dinosaurs. They’re not even all reptiles, or Mesozoic.”

Customer: “What do you know? God, you kids these days are so rude! I know what a dinosaur is.”

(She buys the toy set and leaves in a huff. A week later, I’m working as a cashier when she comes back.)

Customer: “Yes, I’d like to return this.” *shows me the very same fossil toy set*

Me: “Oh, yes, I remember. Would you like me to help you find a dinosaur toy to get instead?”

Customer: “You? God! Look, missy, he just didn’t like them because they weren’t scientifically accurate, okay? These are dinosaurs! They lived a thousand years ago! Do you think I’m stupid!?”

Me: “Ma’am, you clearly are just as intelligent as you present yourself to be.”

Customer: “Well, I’m glad you realise it.”

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The Karate Kid: Christmas Special

| Kent, England, UK | Right | January 7, 2013

(Is a few days before Christmas, and people are after their last few gifts. I’m stacking shelves when I see a confrontation between a man who is tall and obviously goes to the gym and a boy who is about nine years old.)

Man: “Give me that toy! You’re only going to steal it!”

Boy: “No, I got here first. You should have been more prepared.”

Man: “Shut up you brat. I’m your elder. You should respect me. Just give me the toy or I’ll educate you!”

(Note that the toy in question is big, enough so that the boy has to hold it with both hands. The man and the boy start struggling over it.)

Man: “F***ing let go!”

Boy: “NO!”

(The man raises his fist and I quickly jump up to stop him. However, before I can, the boy kicks the man’s hand out the way and then kicks his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground—all while still holding on to the toy.)

Boy: “I’ll let you know what my sister thinks of the toy!”

(The man quickly runs off, humiliated. It turns out the boy and I have the same karate instructor, and he was one grade behind me.)

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