(While working the overnight shift alone, a single customer walks into the store and walks to my register.)
Customer: “What would you do if I robbed you?”
Me: “…I’d call the cops.”
Customer: “What about if I had a knife to your throat?”
Me: “Do you really think those are good questions to be asking me?”
Customer: “Okay, let’s just say I have a gun in your face.”
Me: “Get out. Now.”
Customer: “Sheesh, I was just trying to have a friendly conversation with you…” *leaves*
Me: “Hey there, how can I help you?”
Customer: “Yes, I’d like to know the 9 types of lemonade you have.”
Me: “I’m sorry sir, we only have ONE kind of lemonade and we’re out of it.”
Customer: “Okay, but what are your 9 different types?”
Me: “Sir, I don’t think you understand. We only have one kind of lemonade and we’re currently out of it.”
Customer: “Okay.”
(The customer walks away, only to come back five minutes later.)
Customer: “If I ask you the same question from earlier, you’re still going to give me the same answer, aren’t you?”
Me: “Yes…”
* Me: “Right-click on ‘My Computer’ and choose ‘Properties’.”
* Customer: “I don’t see Properties.”
* Me: “What do you see?”
* Customer: “I see hard disk drives, devices with removable storage–”
* Me: “Ok, you left-clicked; you need to right-click on ‘My Computer’.”
This went on for a few minutes; finally, she got frustrated and said:
* Customer: “I AM USING MY RIGHT HAND!!!”
Thank heaven for the mute button.
(I’m a greenskeeper on a golf course and am doing some work on a green, moving the hole. I pull the pin (flag) out, which is the universal symbol for “the green is closed, don’t shoot”. As I’m doing my work, this happens…)
Member: “Fore on the green! Fore on the green!”
(I look up to see blue sky and a little white speck flying at me. I turn my back and the golf ball hits me square in my one good kidney. I drop like a bag of potatoes, and the member casually strolls up to the green.)
Member: “Are you ok?”
Me: “No, I need to get to a hospital, it hit my good kidney.”
Member: “What the h*** were you doing on the green? You’re not supp–”
Me: “Did you just hear me? I need an ambulance!”
Member: “Don’t interrupt me, you little a**hole! Now move so I can putt!”
(I grab my radio and get my superintendent, who rushes out in his cart on the phone with 911. After he hangs up, he turns to the member.)
Superintendent: “Didn’t you see the pin was down?! You could have killed him!
Member: “He shouldn’t be on the green during play! It’s his own fault!”
(They continue arguing for a few moments until the ambulance shows up. As the EMT is getting me on a stretcher, she asks the member…)
EMT: “If the pin was down, what were you aiming for?”
Member: “Him.”
Superintendent: “You aimed… for him?”
Member: “I figured he’d be close to the hole. I mean… the pin was down! I had to aim for something!”
Superintendent: “You’re a f***ing idiot!”
(I found out later that the member was kicked out of the country club, and his $50,000 initiation fee as well as his $15,000 yearly dues were not refunded.)