I don’t (but then I’m 17)
As for common sense being uncommon, you must check out www.darwinawards.com
Just for interests sake, I’m a female. Quite obviously a female.
I work in a jewellery store, and one day a customer comes in looking for a bracelet for his wife. We often get asked for our opinions on jewellery, no big deal.
But this customer asked me…
Blind customer: If you were a woman, would you like this?
IF??? Wait. Let me think.
Also:
Are all these watches the same price? <indicating a whole wall of watches>
AND
I thought you had to have nice nails to work in a jewellery store?
Another good one is “Can I just take this big diamond ring outside to see it sparkle in the daylight?” Sure lady. Take two.
nefertari.
April 15.
Unless April 15th falls on a weekend; then it could be the 16th or 17th, depending.
And if you’re in Massachusetts, Michigan, Rhode Island and parts of New York (which parts? Maybe you should ask your tax preparer), and April 15th falls on Patriot’s Day* (Does it? Maybe you should ask your tax preparer), you have an extra day.
So it’s not really that stupid a question.
*The third Monday in April is a legal holiday in the Boston area. The states mentioned all send their returns to the Andover, MA, processing center, which is closed on Patriot’s Day. Taxpayers in that area have a break this year.
I work at a Housing Authority and people ask all the time what the equity on their home is. You try to explain to them that they have to order an appraisal and the equity is the difference between what their house is worth and what they owe on their mortgage loan. But they just don’t understand why you can’t tell them over the phone.
I was in banking for many years and my favorite then was “Can you tell what checks I have outstanding?” I would just tell them no, they would have to look in their check register.
Honey: “Eastern Airlines reservations, this is Honey, how may I help you?”
Dimwit: “I need a round trip ticket from Boston to Los Angeles.”
Honey: “How many people will be flying?”
Dimwit: “Just my daughter, she’s 6 months old.”
Honey: “Ma’am, a 6 month old baby cannot fly alone.”
Dimwit: “Why not!!!.”
Sheeeeeesh
:rolleyes:
I remember an old Pit thread on this.
I just had another stupid question I get all of the time and can’t believe I forgot it on my last post. As I said, I work for a Housing Authority and we provide financing for first time homebuyers. A current borrower calls and asks if we do refinances. I tell them no, we only have first-time homebuyer programs and then they ask if I can give them the name of a company that does refinances. Why in the hell would I give out names of our competitors?? Do you think I am going to say “Well, XYZ Company sure does steal a lot of our business, try calling them.” Would you go to a car dealership and say I don’t plan on buying a car here but can you give me the name of another dealership that sells Chevys?
I have a number of wonderful experiences from about a year and a half of working at Lowe’s.
State’s Exhibit A:
I used to be the cashier in the lumber department. There were two registers side by side, with large sliding doors on either side of the counters where the registers were located. Both pairs of doors had EXIT printed on them in large red and white letters. There were also those metal signs with the word EXIT in glowing red letters above them, in compliance with the fire codes. On top of all this, there were large blue signs with white lettering hanging from the ceiling that said in letters at least a foot high, “EXIT: Thank you for shopping at Lowe’s!” Despite all this, people asked where the exit from the store was with depressing regularity.
State’s Exhibit B:
I’m another one that heard the “Do you work here?” question all too often, especially considering the way I dressed. On a typical day, I would be wearing a bright red vest that said LOWE’S in large letters across my back, and with Lowe’s printed in smaller letter’s across the two hip pockets in front of the vest. In addition, the left breast pocket of my vest had a nametag that had the Lowe’s logo, my name, and “Cashier” underneath it. The right breast pocket had a tag that said, “Lowe’s: Customers first!” Furthermore, under my vest, I was wearing a weight belt that had Lowe’s printed across my lower back. To top it all off, I’d wear a blue baseball cap that said “Lowe’s Commercial Services” on the front, and “www.lowes.com” on the back. I had more Lowe’s logos on my body than Mike Skinner (the driver of the Lowe’s car in the Winston Cup series) and I was still asked this question multiple times daily. I was often tempted to respond, “No, it just seemed like the perfect way to accessorize today,” but never actually did.
State’s Exhibit C:
People also frequently asked if they could take their merchandise outside without paying for it, and see if it would fit into their car or truck. They’d often be rather miffed when I’d tell them that merchandise could not leave the store before it it had been paid for, as if this were an utterly ludicrous policy.
State’s Exhibit D:
Our garden center has two parts: an open air section enclosed by chainlink fence, and a greenhouse that connects this area to the rest of the store. There are registers located outdoors and in the store, but none in the greenhouse. There is, however, a counter with a sink. There is no computer terminal located at this counter, simply a stainless steel sink and the occasional flower pot. Garden center employees typically use this counter to re-pot plants and other sucb maintenance tasks.
Whether there is an employee there or not, people would invariable line up at this counter as if it was a register, and wait to be checked out. Many would be quite irritated when informed by an employee that there was no register there, simply a sink.
Todd, the garden center manager, decided to make a sign directing people to go to the registers inside or outside. The original sign said something like, “This counter is not equipped with a register, and employees cannot process transactions here. For your convenience, you may check out at either the Garden Center registers outside, or at the main registers inside the store.” At the bottom of the sign were two red arrows pointing in opposite directions, toward the two sets of registers.
The sign didn’t work. People were still lining up. Todd decided that people were ignoring the sign because it had too many words, and people didn’t want to be bothered to read it. He flipped the sign over and made a second sign, one that simply said, "THIS IS NOT A REGISTER."
This solved the problem temporarily, but the store manager told him to remove it, since it was not “customer friendly.” Todd dutifully removed the sign, and customers began lining up there once more.
State’s Exhibit E:
I’ve been asked some questions that leave me at a loss for words, but this one takes the cake. In the Lumber department, we typically had merchandise stacked on pallets in front of and behind the registers–typically items that did high-volume sales, and were rotated every few weeks. At this particular time of the year, the merchandise in front of the register was a pallet of buckets of driveway sealer. A customer approached me and asked, “How do I buy one of these?”
I was somewhat caught off guard by this, and asked him what he meant. My mind passed over the most obvious answer, since I (perhaps wrongly) assumed that the concept of a cash register was something that anybody shopping in a store would understand.
He repeated himself: “How do I buy one of these?”
I blinked, took a moment to choose my words carefully and said, “Well, you take one off the pallet, bring it over to me so I can ring it up, then pay for it.”
It was his turn to look at me as if I’d spontaneously sprouted an extra limb. He simply said, “Oh,” and walked away from the register. He never did end up buying it.
State’s Exhibit F:
Still with me? This is the last one, I swear.
One contractor who I’d deal with regularly came in and complained that he’d been overcharged for some sealer he’d bought several days ago. I looked at the sales slip and noticed that the cashier must have scanned the wrong bucket, since we had two types of sealer being sold side by side. This particular gentleman always bought the cheapest stuff we had, and would complain that we were overcharging him every single time he came in. I knew that there was no way he’d pay for the more expensive brand.
I processed a return for the ten buckets of the mid-grade sealer, and rung up ten buckets of the cheap stuff, refunding him the difference. He signed the exchange slip, then said he wanted to return some of the sealer he’d bought the other day, since one of his jobs had been cancelled. He wheeled in nine buckets of sealer, and I processed the second return and gave him his refund. As I was handing him his copy of the receipt, he stopped me and asked, “Where’s the rest of it?”\
“The rest of what?”
“My money.”
“I assure you sir, it’s all there.”
“But I bought ten buckets.”
“And you returned nine. This is the money for nine.”
“But ten buckets cost {X}!”
“Well yes, but you only returned nine. Nine buckets cost {Y}.”
But I bought ten!"
“And you returned nine. This is the money for nine. That’s all your money, sir.”
Dissatisfied, he requested a piece of paper and a pencil, which I gave to him. He then proceeded to manually calculate the cost of the ten buckets of driveway sealer, plus tax, to prove I’d ripped him off. Showing me his calculations, he said, “See? I should have {Z}.”
“No, that’s the cost for ten buckets of the mid grade sealer. You didn’t buy that. The girl who was working the other day charged you for them by mistake, and we corrected that earlier and gave you the difference. Ten buckets of the stuff you actually bought cost {X}.”
“But you only gave me {Y}!”
“That’s because {Y} is the cost of nine buckets, sir.”
“But I bought ten!”
“And you returned nine. This is the money for nine. If you return another one, I’ll give you refund for that, too.”
And so the argument continued, at length, along these same lines. I felt like I’d become trapped in a bad Laurel and Hardy routine. After somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes of the two of us restating our respective positions, he finally gave up and stormed out of the store in disgust.
I hadn’t meant to ramble on for so long when I first started writing this. It seems that I may have some unresolved anger issues stemming from working in retail, and I do apologize for the length of the post.
I feel cleansed now. 
You must check http://www.actsofgord.com/ out. It’s a “bible” about a video game store owner and unbelieveably dumb customers.
I used to work in fastfood. My favorite dumb question was this…After walking through a door which proclaimed our combo’s contents and illustrated them with pictures, walking up to a counter with the same designs on it, and looking up at a menu that told you everything in the combo and again illustrated it with pictures people would ask me “What comes in the combo?”
“Do you work here?” is not a dumb question at many large stores today. I have seen “workers” at large home centers, nurseries, Target, and grocery stores, many complete with vests and such, stocking shelves, taking inventory, and putting up displays who were not store employees. It is more efficient for such stores to arrange to have suppliers manage such things directly. Just asking such people questions will not get you the answer you wanted. Also, at showroom places, the person helping that other couple might be their contracter. Again, not someone to annoy with questions.
Surprised no one has quoted:
“Empire Records, open 'til midnight. … Until midnight, goodbye.”
This thread is begining to give me flashblacks from Clerks
Another reason why “Do you work here?” isn’t such a bad question to ask…
Customers always ask me questions at IKEA. I’ve been asked where the light bulbs are, whether I can call the service desk, or whether I can check a price.
The only problem is, I don’t work at IKEA and never have. I’ve just had the misfortune to wear a dark blue shirt there more than once (OK, I know, I keep forgetting) and apparently don’t look lost, which is the normal appearance for most people who shop at IKEA.
Duke, I sympathize. I once made the mistake of wearing a red vest to a KMart. Three people mistook me for an employee.
Since I worked in Japanese tourism in Hawaii for several years, I collect dumb tourist stories. Here are some of my favourites.
First one
I moved to Hawaii to work in for a Japanese travel agency. I’m not Japanese; I was born in England, raised in the US, and look not just white, but downright English. Needless to say, this confused people. I was working at my companies desk in a large hotel tour lobby around lunch hour one day when a woman came up to my desk (I was one of the few people around at the time) and asked if I could recommend a good Jewish deli. Now, I’d been in Hawaii less than 6 months at the time, and I hadn’t had any questions from my Japanese clients about where to find a deli. I told her I didn’t know. This was Waikiki itself, and she kept telling me that she was sure there was “a good Jewish neighborhood” with “a good Jewish deli” and I agreed with her, but explained I didn’t know and that I didn’t get much call for that because this was a Japanese tour agency. I even explained that I didn’t really speak English on the job much. Finally, after explaining for the umpteenth time that this was a Japanese tour agency, she looked at me and said “Oh. You speak Japanese?” I told her I did, that it was part of the job requirement. Then she replied “But your English is so good!” Help!:rolleyes:
Second one
My old boyfriend, J, was working at a Woolworth’s out toward Waimanalo on the windward side of Oahu when a man came in with the characteristic “lost tourist look”. J asked if he could help the tourist, and the tourist asked how to get to the volcano. Not that I need to tell you this, but pretty much the whole state of Hawaii is technically a group of volcanoes, but Oahu doesn’t have any active ones. J asked for a bit more information and the tourist got out a map. Of the island of Hawaii. J had to gently explain to the man that he was on the wrong island. They’re still trying to figure out how he got to Waimanalo.
Last and best
A good friend of mine used to tell this story when she was doing stand up comedy, but she swears it’s true and I’m afraid I believe her. She used to work as ranger at the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor. The way the tours work is you’re shown a film about the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the building of the monument before you go on a short boat ride out to the memorial itself. One of the things mentioned is that the Arizona Memorial is built over the wreckage of the Arizona and does not touch any part of the ship itself. After the film, there’s a brief question and answer period. One day, sitting in the audience there was, as my friend puts it, “a California surfer dude type” and his girlfriend. Sure enough, after the film, Surfer Dude put his hand up and asked the question my friend wished she hadn’t heard: “So when they sunk the ship you mean it just, like, slid right under the building?” She does not know how she got out of that and kept her job.
There are a lot more little ones, including the couple who pulled into a dive shop on the Leeward side of Oahu and asked “Can we get to Kauai on this road?” Depends on how good the tires on that car are. Can they inflate?
CJ
If you live overseas, you get an automatic 2 month extension to June 15 (if you don’t owe any money). If you’re a procrastinator like me, you can also ask for a two month extension on top of that, and it is automatically granted if you ask. Bwahahahahahahahahaha
I work a Cafe in a little tourist town. The thing that gets me the most is when people poke their head in the door and ask “Are you open?” with the open sign on the door right in front of their faces.
Another great has to be “What’s tri-tip?”
One of my alltime favorite customer stupidities:
At the pizza place I work in now, we have a self serve salad display. Premade salads, packed in ice. Mostly caesar or garden, but we have a few grilled chicken ones too.
Enter customer. Young woman, approx. 25 years old.
Customer: Are these chicken pieces cooked?
Me: Yes, they’re grilled chicken filets (questioning why we would serve raw chicken…)
Customer: Yeah, but are they hot?
Me: Are they spicy? No.
Customer: Not spicy, are they hot! Is the chicken hot?
Me: Ma’am, the salads are packed in ice. How would they still be hot?
Customer: You dont have to get an attitude with me! (Storms away)
I have a friend who works at Home Depot, so she “accessorizes” much like you, but of course her stuff is orange and says “Home Depot” all over it.
She, too, gets the “Do you work here?” question quite a bit. What she does is look down at herself, maybe pick up an edge of her apron as if inspecting it, and then look back up at the person and proclaim brightly, “Yes, I do! Can I help you?” 
Not strictly stupid questions, just generally stupid behavior.
I worked at a movie theater during the holiday season the year Home Alone and The Rescuers Down Under came out.
We were a 3-screen theater, H.A. was on two screens. So all our ads and the marquee showed start times 15 minutes apart. I hated being ticket-taker girl.
Fully three fourths of the cattle who came through the door, after I had torn their tickets and told them, “Go to the left, it’s the theater with the blue sign” would amble on straight ahead into the theater with the yellow sign, then come out bitching that the movie was already under way, it’s not supposed to start for ten more minutes. Cow Four of Four would invariably turn right, go into the theater with the pink sign, then come out bitching that “That’s not Home Alone, that’s some Disney cartoon.!”
Oh, then there was the guy who brought his kids to see The Rescuers Down Under, and, after passing under a huge-ass ten foot banner that said, “* The Rescuers Down Under*, also featuring Mickey Mouse in his first feature length cartoon since Jesus’s bar mitzvah” or words to that effect, came out bitching that “I brought my kids to see RDU, and there’s some Mickey Mouse cartoon on.” :rolleyes:
Of course, at least half of the people would not accept their ticket stubs. I would call out “Sir/Ma’am, your stub” and they would ignore me. Guess who it always was who wanted to know if they could leave the theater and come back? “Yes, as long as you have your stub.” The worst part was that my manager actually ordered me on more than one occasion to draw the magic velvet rope closed and leave a lobby packed with hundreds of people waiting to get in to see the movie and chase these individuals down and give them their stubs.
Oh, and being concession girl was lots of fun, too. On a busy weekend day, I would usually wind up stuck at the register on the end. I’d wait on customers, then be faced with no-one. Packed lobby, lines half a mile long, nobody would leave the lines they were in and come to my register. I would call out, “I can help someone down here!!..I can help someone down here!!! I can help someone down here!!!” Eventually, the other girls would start shooing customers in their lines down to my register.
Then there was the guy who lit up two feet in front of the “No Smoking” sign, then got mad at me for asking him to put his death stick out…
hmmm, this could turn into a pit thread real fast…
The Rinkworks site reminded me of another site where incredibly stupid people live on in infamy…
It’s a great site! 
(very funny, in my opinion)