At the clothing store where I work, I make it a point of pride to give customers my unvarnished opinion. One day, when a man emerged from the fitting room, I took one look at him and shook my head. "No, no," I said. "Those jeans look terrible on you. I'll go get you another pair." As I walked away, I heard him mumble, "I was trying on the shirt."
Client: "Please remove the unnecessary circle at the end of the sentence." Me: "You mean... the period?" Client: "I don't care what you designers call it; it is unsightly. Delete it."
An aching back sent me stumbling to the drugstore for relief. After a search, I found what I was looking for: a selection of heating pads specifically for people with back pain—all on the bottom shelf.
It was very hot, and this guy runs to a nearby store to buy a hand fan. There were two similar fans in make and model but one was 25 cents and the other was 50 cents. The guy opted for the cheaper one thinking that they work the same way. Before he left the store, the owner tried to impress on the buyer on how each works, but the buyer was not interested - a fan is a fan is a fan, and he knows how to work it. The 25 cent fan broke. He came back yelling and screaming that the fan was no good. The owner explained that he should have got the operating instructions: "With the 50 cent fan, you move your wrist left and right to get the air flowing. With the 25 cent fan which works differently, you hold the fan steady in your wrist and move your head left to right to get the air flowing."
While I was out to lunch, my coworker answered my phone and told the caller that I would be back in 20 minutes. The woman asked, "Is that 20 minutes Central Standard Time?"
Ad from a printer I will not be doing business with: "We offer a full line of pricing options that will meet or exceed your printing budget."
Don't get upset if I ask you where something is in Target when you choose to wear a red shirt and khakis to shop.
I decided to grab a burger at a drive-thru. There were no cars in sight, so I rolled up to the pay window. "We're still serving breakfast. And you have to order at the speaker," the clerk scolded. I drove all the way around the building to the squawk box and ordered a breakfast sandwich. "I'm sorry," she said, "we are now serving lunch."
Calling for information about one of my credit cards, I got the following recorded prompt: "Please enter your account number as it appears on your card or statement." I did as instructed, and the system said, "Please enter your five-digit ZIP code." After I put that in, I got a third message: "If you would like your information in English, press one."
Instead of saying, "And here's your receipt," cashiers should say, "Will you throw this away for me?"