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.
There are two essential rules to management. First, the customer is always right. Second, they must be punished for their arrogance.
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."
Customer to Waiter: "This is the third time I'm asking you, do you serve pigs in here?!" Waiter: "Sir Please sit down, this is the 100th time I telling you, we serve everyone here."
You are in my heart, you are in my blood, you are in all my body. Alas, my doc says: "You are a parasite!"
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."
Boy: "Hi, my name is Milk. I'll do your body good." Girl: "Sorry, I'm Lactose intolerant!"
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."
A waiter walks up to a table of old ladies eating their lunch and asks, "Is anything OK?"
Not the people who posted this sign at a bookstore that was going out of business: "Sorry, no public restroom. Try amazon.com."
A customer walked into our store looking for Christmas lights. I showed her our top brand, but, wanting to make sure each bulb worked, she asked me to take them out of the box and plug them in. I did, and each one lit up. "Great," she said. I carefully placed the string of lights back in the box. But as I handed them to her, she looked alarmed. "I don't want this box," she said abruptly. "It's been opened."