(I have a line of guests at the front desk waiting to check in, but I can’t ignore the phone ringing. I saw that it was an inside call from a room and I answer it, hoping this will be quick. I’m used to stupid questions but this was the best.)

Me: “Guest services, how may I help you?”

Guest: “Yes, how do you work the television?”

Me, without missing a beat: “There should be a remote control on the nighttable in between the two beds in your room. On it, there should be a circular orange button that says “POWER”. Push it and the TV should turn on.”

(At this point, the young couple in front of me is laughing.)

Guest: “Okay, what do I do then?”

Me: “Well, once the TV is on, you can push the yellow arrow buttons that say ‘channel’ to find the station you’d like to watch. Would you like to know where the channel listing is in your room?”

Guest: “No, but thanks. I’ll give it a try.”

Me: “My pleasure.” *hangs up*

Young couple, still laughing: “Are you serious?”

(A couple approaches, and the dude ditches quickly to the back of the store while the woman barks…)

Woman: “I need some tickets!”

Me: “What show?”

Woman: “I need tickets to the concert.”

Me: “Which one?”

Woman: “The concert.”

Me: “There are a lot of concerts going on, which one do you want to see?”

Woman: “I don’t know what it’s called.”

Me: “Who’s playing?”

Woman: “A bunch of people…I don’t know.”

Me: “Do you know where it’s going to be?”

Woman: “No.”

Me: “When?”

Woman: “No–why can’t you find my tickets?!?”

Me: “I need something to go on.”

Woman: “It’s a concert!”

Me: “That doesn’t narrow it down for me. That pretty much only eliminates Phantom of the Opera.”

(She finally yells at the dude who has been hiding in magazines.)

Woman: “What’s the name of the concert we’re going to?”

(The dude comes forward and gives me the name of the show, where it is and on what day.)

Woman: “Oh, NOW you can find the tickets.”

Me: “…”

Woman: “We need two tickets…TOGETHER!”

Me, looking at dude: “Are you sure?”

(He smiled, she missed it, and I lived to do retail another day.)

(I was in the ladies room during a shift, wearing a skirt. This is key.)

Woman, in stall next to mine: “You’re not wearing any pants!”

(I ignore her, thinking she’s on the phone.)

Woman: *starts banging on the wall between us* “You’re not wearing any pants!”

Me: “…I’m…sorry?”

Woman: “You! You’re not wearing any pants!” *bangs some more*

Me: “And you know this how?”

Woman: “I can see your legs! They’re bare! You’re not wearing any pants!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m wearing a *skirt*.”

(The woman stops banging on the wall, and is completely silent. I never got to know what she thought of a woman wearing a skirt.)

(I was helping a regular customer who had wandered in–as he did daily–from the nursing home across the street.)

Old Man: “You’re working again?”

Me: “Yes, every day.”

Old Man: “You know what? Every time I see you, there’s a big smile on your face.”

Me: “What can I say, I love my job.”

Old Man: “Yes, you have a wonderful smile. You’ll make a good looking corpse.”

Me: “…”

(He got a wide berth after that.)

(For three years, my job was to deal with angry parents. I was very good at it. Most of the time.)

Parent: *angrily* “I need to speak to someone about my daughter’s roommates!”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, what seems to be the problem?”

Parent: “Her roommates are awful to her! ”

Me: “Okay. Can you detail the problems for me? The more specific you can be, the better we can help your daughter and her roommates settle their problems.”

Parent: “They curse, and they play loud music, and they’re, well, they’re just not *like* us.”

Me: “In what way are they not *like* you, ma’am?”

Parent: “Well, they’re…farm people.”

(Twenty seconds of absolute silence as I am, for once, thrown off my game. I’ve heard racial B.S. and religious B.S., but never *farm* B.S.)

Parent: “Not that there’s anything wrong with farm people. It’s just that we’re not farm people.”

(I’m still in shock. She keeps going.)

Parent: I mean, farms are useful, but we’re from the city. My daughter grew up going to the theater and to museums.”

Me: “Ma’am, I can assure you, as a kid from a farm myself, I’ve been to the theater and to museums. What we probably have here is a personality clash.”

(There’s about a 10 second pause that just drips with uncomfortable.)

Parent: “Perhaps I should speak to someone else.”

(Santa was visiting our store, and every kid got a small bag of candy. Then this happened…)

Santa: “Here you go, little boy!”

Kid: “Thank you, Santa!”

Mom: “Aren’t you forgetting anything?”

Kid: “What, mommy?”

Mom: “Ask Santa for another bag for your brother like I told you.” *looks at Santa* “He’s sick at home and couldn’t come.”

Santa: “No problem!” *reaches for another bag*

Kid: “But mommy, I don’t have a brother!”

Mom: “…”

Santa: *puts bag back*

(Everyone in line bursts out laughing.)

Me: “Thank you for calling technical support. My name is ***, how can I help you?

Customer: *distinct southern accent* “Where am I calling?”

Me: “*** technical support. Are you having trouble with your internet, sir?”

Customer: “I know that. I mean, what part of the world?”

Me: “I’m in Canada, sir. Is there something I can help you with?”

Customer: “Canada?! You have internet up in Canada?”

Me, sarcastically: “Nope…just got radio, in fact I had to drive my dog sled into work. There was a horrible accident and I lost two dogs. It’s been a rough day.”

Customer: “Oh…well, I want technical support from a country who actually has it.” *click*

Supervisor monitoring calls: “You can’t be serious.”

Customer: “My son is locked out of the house and I need to send him the key!”

Me: “We can overnight the key and have it to him by 10:30am tomorrow morning. Shall we send the key to the neighbor’s house?”

Customer: “No, he needs it right now! Why can’t I just fax it?”

Me: “…Ma’am, you can’t fax a key.”

Customer: “Why not? He’s locked out and needs the key!”

Me: “Because a key is a three dimensional object, not a document.”

(Customer stares at me.)

Me: “Ma’am, is your fax machine in your house?”

Customer: “Yes!”

Me: “How will your son get into the house to get the key from the fax machine if he is locked out?”

Customer: “D*mn it! You’re right! Well, thanks for your time!”

Me: “I do what I can.”

(This was my last week at a very lousy sales job working for a major jewelry manufacturer that deals exclusively with jewelers on a screened account basis.)

Me: “Thank you for calling *****. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I need a price check on a diamond.”

(We go through a drawn out process of finding the stone he wants, a large carat, high grade diamond. I quote him the price in the system.)

Customer: “That can’t be right! That’s too expensive!”

Me: “It’s the price I have in the system, sir. If you like, we can look for a different piece?”

Customer: “NO! It has to be that one! Are you sure that’s the right price?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Are you absolutely certain?”

Me: “Absolutely, sir.”

Customer: “And that’s in dollars, right?”

(At this point, I’m fed up and not really concerned with whether I get fired or not at this point. I answer in my most sincere deadpan.)

Me: “No, sir. That’s in woodchucks. We deal exclusively in fresh, live woodchucks.”

(I hear a bark of laughter from one of the call monitoring agents on the next row, which gets even louder when the customer asks if I’m serious.)

(I was working in warranties for a large computer manufacturer, mostly with businesses but a few individuals came through on the line here and there.)

Me: “Thank you for calling ***. How can I help you?”

Customer: “My computer don’t work.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am. Can I get the serial number off of your CPU?”

Customer: “My what?”

Me: “The computer tower.”

Customer: “Huh?”

(I’ll spare you the agony but, I went on for about 3 more minutes trying to describe the CPU and getting nowhere.)

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t seem to be expressing myself well today. Can you describe to me all the computer parts on your desk? I’ll tell you which one the number I need is on.”

Customer: “It’s just a keyboard and a screen, like any other computer.”

Me: “Oh, you have a laptop!”

Customer: “A what?”

Me: “A little computer you can take with you. The keyboard and screen fold together with a hinge in the middle, right?”

Customer: “No, I don’t! I don’t know what is wrong with you computer people today. First the sales guy tries to sell me a bunch of sh*t I don’t need in this big box package and now you don’t even know what a computer is! Brand new today and it don’t even work.”

Me: “So…you just bought a keyboard and a monitor?”

Customer: “What’d I need all the rest uh’ that sh*t in the box for? This was way cheaper! I ain’t stupid!”

Me: “…”