It is early in the morning, around 5:45 or 6:00 am in January, and it has just snowed a few inches outside.

I am opening and a “customer” goes straight to one of the drink coolers in the front of the store out of the view of me and the clerk I am standing next to, but we can see him in the reflection of the freezer glass window behind him, and he is obviously shoving drinks into his jacket.

After he has a substantial amount tucked into his jacket, he closes the door and turns to make a break for the door. He gets about two strides in before he falls and face-plants into the tile floor, and all of the drinks spill out of his jacket or explode.

We immediately run over to help him and we quickly collect all the drinks before he can get them. We help him up and the clerk says:

Clerk: “Maybe you should stay so we can get you an ambulance and the police for your head; that looks bad.”

He looks at both of us and says, rather frantically:

Customer: “No, thanks!”

He bolted out the door. He’s not come back since.

For several days, I’ve been receiving phone calls for a man. I keep telling people that they have the wrong number, but more and more companies keep calling. They’re for auto insurance quotes, realtors, and landlords trying to set up viewings, banks — all sorts of things that, when put together, makes it sound like [Wrong Person] is moving to the area. The truly bizarre part is that my number is from when I lived in another state, but all the calls are from businesses within half an hour of my current home. I keep telling them that they have the wrong number, but this caller is the worst.

Me: “Hello?”

Caller: “Hi, this is [Caller] with [Bike Dealership]. I’m looking for [Wrong Person].”

Me: “I’m sorry, he keeps giving out this number but it’s incorrect.”

Caller: “Uhhh, is this [my number]?”

Me: “Yes, but [Wrong Person] is not associated with it.”

Caller: “Well, he put it down as his contact.”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know him.”

Caller:  “Can you give me his number?”

Me: *Pause* “I… just said I don’t know him.”

Caller: “I need to talk to him about this bike we’re customizing for him.”

Me: *Sigh* “I don’t know him, nor do I know how to get in contact with him.”

Caller: “Just tell him to call me back.”

Me: “I can’t. I don’t—”

He hangs up.

Not five minutes later, the same number calls again.

Me: “If you’re calling for [Wrong Person], stop.”

Caller: “Quit f****** around. I’ve got work to do. Put him on.”

Me: “Why would I tell you he’s not here if he is?”

Caller: “I don’t know but you need to stop. I’m busy and I don’t have time for this bulls***.”

Me: “Yeah, so am I, but I’m taking the time to politely tell you that there’s a mistake on your paperwork and you’re swearing at me.”

Caller: “I don’t have time for this. I really don’t. Tell [Wrong Person] to come pick up his piece of s*** bike.”

He hangs up again.

The next day, the same number calls for a third time, but I let it go to voicemail. The man leaves a message. 

Caller: “Uhh, I was trying to get in contact with [Wrong Person]… but I don’t think he’s there.”

I stopped answering numbers I didn’t know, and the calls for [Wrong Person] stopped. After the second call from that guy, I updated my voicemail message to say my name and phone number, and to say that I do NOT know anyone named [Wrong Person] and would not be responsible for relaying information to him.

I’m working concessions at a rock concert in a large sports arena. Invariably, there is a “last call” about an hour and a half before the headliner is scheduled to end. This means that alcohol is not served anywhere in the venue after that time. This conversation happens more than once:

Customer: “Can I get a [alcoholic beverage]?”

Me: “Sorry, alcohol is cut off. They won’t have it anywhere in the building.”

Customer: “How about a beer?”

What do people think is in beer?

Related:
Un-beer-lievable Ignorance

Customer: “I’d like to exchange my food; I don’t feel safe eating it.”

Me: “Why not, ma’am?”

Customer: “Well, I bought it at a drive-thru and the person was very rude, and I’m afraid they did something to my food.”

Me: “Okay, well, I’ll need your receipt. Do you have it?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Was the person a man or a woman who rang you up?”

Customer: “Well, I don’t know. It sounded like a man, but these people are all on hormones these days, and there are men that want to be women, so I don’t know.”

Me: “Ma’am, we know who was working fifteen minutes ago; was it him?”

Customer: “No, it wasn’t him. BUT LOOK!”

She points at the condensation in the clear plastic container.

Customer: “It looks so weird.”

Me: “Ma’am, are you sure you got this food here?”

Customer: *Huffs* “No, I didn’t buy it here, but does it even matter? Do you mean to tell me I have to drive to every [Fast Food Place] in town to get my food exchanged?!”

My dad told me this story about his grandmother, who lived to be over 100. I got to meet her, and so did several other great-grandchildren. She raised eleven kids — her husband died much younger and she never remarried — who all had kids when they grew up. Since none of her siblings had kids, Dad and his dozens of cousins joked she was making up for them.

Dad would do her grocery shopping once a week. One week, when he came to get her shopping list, she looked very concerned about something.

Dad: “Grandma, what’s wrong? You look so worried.”

Grandma: “I think I’m losing my mind.”

Dad: “You’ve always seemed sharp when we talk. I haven’t noticed anything wrong. What makes you think that?”

Grandma: “This morning, I was sitting here trying to name all my grandchildren, and I can’t do it.”

Dad: “Grandma, you have more than fifty grandkids. No one knows all their names! Your memory is fine.”

That reassured her! She lived about another fifteen years after this conversation, and her memory stayed intact the whole time. She even hosted big family dinners every Sunday well into her nineties.

This story is part of our Feel Good roundup for November 2020!

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Read the Feel Good roundup for November 2020!