Hands across the Nations.

7am. 23rd April. *Just walked through the door at work, followed in by a man wanting a buttonhole for St George’s day.  I inwardly cringe, cursing that I will have to spend the whole day making red rose buttonholes for gormless racists, and then tell myself to not to pigeonhole people*

Man: “At least you know what a buttonhole is, love!”

Me: “Pardon?”

Man: “Not like them FUCKING Russians at the other shop!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Man: ” Didn’t speak a word of FUCKING English!”

Me: “Ehrm, They’re Latvian and Polish, I think. I talk to them all the time. In English.”

Man: “Whatever. How much?”

Me: “Five Pounds. Sir.”

Man: “Fucking Liberty, you ask me. FIVE POUNDS???”

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No?

Woman: (on her actual hands and knees, peering under the metal shutters to the shop -which are rolled down to about a foot from the floor so I can do an Indiana Jones style roll out from under it when I leave- ) at an hour after we normally shut, bellowing “HELLOOOOOOOO?????? ARE YOU STILL OOOOOPENNNNN?????”

Spend a penny

Customer: “Where are the toilets please?”
Me: “Go back into the station *pointing* and take the first right”
Customer: “Where?”
Me: “Into the station. Turn right.”
Customer *Looking at where I am pointing and then pointing in the opposite direction*: “This way?”
Me: “There are signs. Look. TOILET. Follow them.”
Customer: “What signs?”
Me: *again with the pointing* “THOSE ONES. See the arrows?”
Customer: “Are there toilets in the station?”
Me: “Would you like me to go first and leave you a trail of breadcrumbs?”
Customer: “Rude.”

Culture Vulture.

Man: “Hi! I was wondering what there is to do around here?” (London Bridge).
Me: “You want to sightsee?”
Man: “Sure!”
Me: Ok, well, the Shard is right here. In two minutes walk you can see Borough Market; that’s been there since the 11th century. Or Keats’ house, Or the Old Operating theatre museum, Or a 16th century coaching inn. Or Southwark Cathedral. 5 minutes gets you to London Bridge, Winchester Palace, The Golden Hind, The Clink museum, Shakespeare’s Globe. Fifteen minutes and you can walk into the city itself, or St Pauls Cathedral, or The Guildhall…”
Man: “Oh. Well. Is there a McDonalds?”
Me **eyebrow** “Turn right: Opposite Starbucks.”