(A customer is at the fishing license kiosk, entering in his application. He is looking visibly frustrated.)

Customer: “Oh, come on!”

(I walk up to the customer.)

Me: “Alright, can I see you go through this?”

Customer: “I’ve already done it four times!”

Me: “I understand. Just one more time, please.”

(The customer types his full name in the space provided. I see the problem. Instead of ‘John L. Doe’ he writes ‘johnldoe’.)

Me: “Alright, you’re going to need to put spaces in there.”

Customer: “Fine.”

(The customer puts the spaces in. We get to the address. He types in an equivalent of: ’123adr3$$@Clty’.)

Me: “…alright, why don’t I just handle this?”

(At this time we are having a “fishing derby” where kids can bring fish in and we will measure them. The three biggest fish that have been caught have their measurements on a board.)

Customer: “Are these fish measured in feet?”

Me: “No, they are measured in inches.”

Customer: “Are you sure?”

Me: “I’m positive considering the biggest according to the board would have to be 17 feet, and the only fish I can think of that can grow to be 17 feet long is a shark.”

Customer: “You have sharks in this lake?!”

Lady: ¬†”Hey, we’ve heard that there might be some kind of oil something on this boat…”

Me: ¬†”Sure, let me check.” *checks*¬†”Come and look–your oil reservoir is almost completely empty. You should fill it immediately, and it will cost about $*.**.”

Lady: ¬†”Oh, that’s a lot. How far will that get us?”

Me: ¬†”All the way to the middle of the lake.”

Lady’s husband: *laughs hysterically*

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Someone’s Not Getting Any Tonight