I overheard this at a market stall as I was browsing the next stall over.

Customer: “Oh, what lovely earrings! How much?“

Stallholder: “They’re £12.“

Customer: “£12? That’s far too much. I’ll give you £6.“

Stallholder: “No, those are £12.“

Customer: *In a withering tone* “Don’t you understand how haggling works?“

Stallholder: “Wait, we’re haggling? Oh, in that case, those start at £20.“

Customer: “£20? You said £12!“

Stallholder: “£12? That’s an acceptable offer. Done!”

Related:
Can They Haggle? No Or No?, Part 5
Can They Haggle? No Or No?, Part 4
Can They Haggle? No Or No?, Part 3
Can They Haggle? No Or No?, Part 2
Can They Haggle? No Or No?

I’m working at the only checkout lane in a small corner shop in a small town in Scotland. The weather has been bad lately, so a lot of locals who usually drive to the larger supermarkets or people who would usually be spending their weekend in the town are forced to use our little shop.

A younger man is in the queue, and he is making his personal distaste for having to wait his turn quite loudly known.

Young Man: “F*** me, this store is slow! What are you doing up there, counting it out on your bloody fingers?”

Me: “Sir, I apologise, but it’s just me today, and we’re not usually this busy. I am going as fast as I can.”

Young Man: “Well, your fast-as-you-can is slower than a snail with [derogatory term for people with a developmental disorder]. Hurry the f*** up!”

At that, the older woman immediately in front of him in the queue turns on him.

Old Woman: “Listen, boy. This is one of the few stores in the area that still accepts checks, I have a big fat checkbook in my bag that I am happy to use, I have nowhere else to be today, and I have forgotten my glasses. Don’t… test me!“

He was silent for the rest of his time in line. The scary old lass somehow got a staff discount… 

Related:
Never Pick A Fight With An Old Scottish Woman, Part 3
Never Pick A Fight With An Old Scottish Woman, Part 2
Never Pick A Fight With An Old Scottish Woman
Tell Me You’re In Scotland Without Telling Me You’re In Scotland
Nothin’ Like A Good Old Existential Meltdown

I worked in a hotel that was at the budget end of the market. It was within easy travelling distance of a popular theme park, and we sold packages that included tickets to the park. A lot of these were through agents or third-party websites, pre-paid to the agent.

A guest on one such package came to reception one morning with a minor but legitimate complaint about her room, looking like she was geared up for a fight. I apologised and told her what I’d do to put it right. This seemed to take the wind out of her sails a bit, so she paused, and then she seemed to think of something else to complain about.

Guest: “We’re not happy about the bus to [Theme Park]! The website said it ran from outside the hotel, and we thought it was included.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but the bus isn’t affiliated with us in any way. It does run from the stop opposite the hotel, but it’s just a regular bus service. You booked and paid through [Agent Website]; if you feel their website is misleading, you do need to raise it with them.”

Having failed to get the response she apparently wanted, she started to walk away. Then, she suddenly turned and shouted:

Guest: “And nobody told me it was Easter!”

I must have looked confused as she followed it with:

Guest: “I’ve probably paid more!”

Luckily, she stormed off before I had to explain to her again that we’d had no part in her booking process, that she’d selected her own chosen dates online through an agent, and that she’d booked a room including her school-aged children… who would have been on Easter break at the time.

I am giving a tour of a medieval historical site to a group of tourists. A large Welsh flag is on display at the entrance, so it’s a good opportunity to explain the history.

Me: “Here we have the Welsh flag, which has the dragon, known as the Red Dragon of Cadwaladr.” 

I go on to explain its history and meaning, and one of the tourists asks a question.

Tourist: “So, when did dragons go extinct?”

Me: “Uh… Dragons aren’t real. They were used as symbols only, but they weren’t real animals.”

Tourist: “No… I saw a documentary. The last dragon died in like, old times. I just want to know when that was?”

Other Tourist: “Gary, that was Game Of Thrones.”

Tourist: “Yeah, and that was set in old, like, European times, right?” 

I swiftly moved on while Gary’s friend tried to explain…

Customer: “What standard cuts of timber do you have in stock?”

Me: “In this section, it’s 16mm by 75mm.” 

Customer: “Which is the height, and which is the width?”

I try to hold in my sarcastic tone.

Me: “It depends which way you hold it.” 

Customer: “With my hands…”

Related:
Reaching New Heights Of Stupidity, Part 2
Reaching New Heights Of Stupidity