(I am working the box office at a small indie movie theater. Two girls with giant coffee drinks walk past three signs saying that we don’t allow outside food or drink and come up to the counter.)

Me: “How can I help you?”

Girl: “Can we get two student tickets to [Movie]?”

Me: “Sure! But just so you know, we don’t allow outside food or drinks in the theater, so you’ll have to finish those down here before you go up to the theater.”

Girl: “Ugh! But we just bought these!”

Me: “I’m so sorry, but we do have signs up saying we don’t allow outside food or drinks.”

(I point to the signs.)

Girl: “But… We’re from Ohio!”

Me: “Do they not read in Ohio?”

(The girls laughed nervously and left.)

(I work in a crafting store. It’s almost closing time. The phone rings.)

Me: “Hello, welcome to [Store]. My name is [My Name]; how may I direct your call?”

Customer: “I am looking for rainbows and unicorns.”

Me: “Are you looking for stickers or other scrapbook supplies?

Customer: “No, rainbows like the ones that are in the clouds.” *I hear some laughing in the background and realise I am being pranked* “I called yesterday and [Common Name] said there was a shipment today with them.”

Me: “Maybe you should try [Other Craft Store]. We don’t carry those items. Plus, there is no one that works here with that name, and I personally unpack shipments Thursday morning, not today.”

(The caller hangs up and I get a call back ten minutes later.)

Customer: “I would like some rainbows and unicorns; the lady I called earlier said they came in.”

Me: “Miss, we don’t sell live animals or rainbows.” *again, children laughing*

Customer: “I demand the manager.”

(I transferred the call. The manager picked up the line and the caller asked for stickers instead of mythical livestock. When he asked for a name to put the stickers on hold, the girl hung up. We still don’t know what they wanted.)

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(I work in a clearance home improvement store. The bed linen we stock is a mix of current catalogue stock and dribs and drabs of discontinued linen at heavily reduced prices. The older stock tends to end up looking a little battered, because customers often rip open the packaging carelessly to look at the bed linen inside. On this occasion a woman approaches the counter with a quilt cover reduced to from $150 down to $20. The plastic packaging is quite shabby, and torn in a couple of places, but the bed linen inside is undamaged.)

Customer: “What’s wrong with this quilt cover?”

Me: “Nothing, ma’am, it’s just discontinued stock.”

Customer: “But why is it so cheap?”

Me: “This quilt cover isn’t being made anymore, so any stock we have left is the very last stock available ever in this design. In order to sell the last of it, we’ve marked it down. Lucky for you, hey?”

Customer: “The packaging is torn.”

Me: “Yeah, that happens sometimes. Nothing to worry about, though; let me just tape it up for you.”

(I go about taping up the otherwise useless plastic packaging so that it’s now completely sealed.)

Customer: “Can I get a discount?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “Because the packaging is so torn. Can I get a discount?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t discount an item that isn’t faulty.”

Customer: “But the packaging is torn.”

Me: “I understand, but you’re not buying the packaging. You’re buying the quilt cover, which is undamaged.”

Customer: “But the packaging is torn! Can’t you give me a discount?”

Me: “This quilt cover was $150 at full price. I really can’t discount it any further. But I tell you what: if you get it home and the cover is faulty, just bring it back in with your receipt and we can give you a full refund. You’re still getting a pretty good deal!”

Customer: *huffs* “Fine. But I don’t understand why you can’t give me a discount for the packaging.”

(I work in a video game store that also has consoles that people can rent for the hour. Since the surrounding streets are a tad unsafe, my boss lets me keep my motorcycle inside the store, next to my work station. One day a man with a kid starts looking around the store and approaches me.)

Customer: “How much is the motorcycle?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: *points at my motorcycle* “That one. How much is it?”

Me: “It’s mine; I don’t sell it.”

Customer: “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s in the store; it must be for sale. How much?

Me: *giving up* “30,000 pesos.”

Customer: “What? That’s insane! In [Dealership], it’s only 14,000!”

Me: “May be a better idea to buy it there, then.”

(At our hot case, over half of our food available is various types of chicken; we have tenders, popcorn style, hot wings, boneless buffalo, and more. That being said, this exact conversation happens way more often than I’d like to count.)

Me: “Hey there. What can I get for you?”

Customer: “I’ll have some chicken.”

Me: *screaming internally*