Visiting The Land Of The Bratwurst

(I work in a respectable travel agent’s office. A burly man wearing a sleeveless t-shirt featuring a very realistic-looking man’s private part — hairs and all — walks in with his friend. I’m a young female.)

Me: “Good morning. How are you…” *notices the shirt* “…doing…”

Man: “Yes, do you have vacation packages?”

Me: *trying not to look* “Yes.”

Man: “To Germany? How much for a week?”

(I tell him the price. He’s not happy with it and starts yelling, demanding the price be lowered. I refuse politely. Finally, he stops, and his friend joins him. They stand a little ways off so I can hear them whisper.)

Man: “I can’t believe how she treated me! I don’t understand her attitude!”

Friend: “Um, probably because of your shirt.”

Man: “So, what’s wrong with c**k?!”

(They left. My boss came out and I told him what happened, and he laughed.)