Instead of saying, "And here's your receipt," cashiers should say, "Will you throw this away for me?"
When asked for his name by the coffee shop clerk, my brother-in-law answered, "Marc, with a C." Minutes later, he was handed his coffee with his name written on the side: Cark.
Most of our music store customers have a story about their old vinyl collection. Once, a man asked how much a record cost. My coworker quoted him the price, then added, "But there's a surcharge if we have to listen to how your mother made you throw out all your old vinyl records."
Customer: Could you please call me a cab? Little Johnny: OK... "You're a cab."
I was at the customer-service desk, returning a pair of jeans that was too tight. "Was anything wrong with them?" the clerk asked. "Yes," I said. "They hurt my feelings."
I was looking at the pies offered by a nearby café. They had cherry, apple, berry, peach, and Herman's. "What type of pie is Herman's?" I asked the waiter. "Apple," he said. "Then why is it called Herman's pie?" "Because Herman called in to reserve it."
The bean soup I'd ordered was mostly water. I decided to tell the waitress. "This soup is awful," I said. "I know," she said. "I don't like bean soup either."
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."
A blonde goes into a near by store and asks the clerk if she can buy the T.V. in the corner. The store clerk looks at her and says that he doesn't serve blondes, so she goes back home and dyes her hair black. The next day and asks the same thing, and again he said he doesn't serve blondes. Frustrated, the blonde goes back home and dyes her hair yet again, to a shade of red. Sure the clerk would sell her the T.V. by now, she returns and asks a different clerk this time. To her astonishment, this clerk also says she doesn't serve blondes as well. The blond asks the clerk, "How in the world do you know I'm a blonde?" The clerk looks at her and says, "That's not a T.V.- it's a microwave!"
Not the people who posted this sign at a bookstore that was going out of business: "Sorry, no public restroom. Try amazon.com."