(I do pet portraits for extra money to make it through college. Most of the purchases are mundane, somebody’s cat or dog, but I am eventually approached by a very strange woman carrying a stack of papers.)

Woman: Hello. You’re the one who draws animals, yes?

Me: Found me! So, what do you–?

Woman: Oh, good! Because I have something I want you to do for me.

(She digs through her papers and hands me a printed photo of a taxidermy tree kangaroo. Needless to say, I’m confused.)

Me: Oh? Is this what you–?

Woman: Yes, yes. I went to the Smithsonian and I love that animal. I was wanting to know if you could maybe go out of the way of what you regularly do? I know it’s not a pet, but it’s still an animal…”

(As odd as it sounds, hearing it’s a photo from a trip made it make a little more sense. We discuss pricing and what she wants. She’s adamant that the photo is what she wants, so I work from that, but I keep her updated throughout just to make sure I’m on the right track. When I am finished, I call her to come pick up the piece.)

Woman: “Oh.”

Me: “Something wrong?”

Woman: “Oh. No. Except…”

(She fidgets, then gestures at the finished product.)

Woman: “It’s wrong. The wrong color.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “There’s another color of tree kangaroo. I wanted the other color.”

Me: “You gave me a photo to work from. You said that’s what you wanted.”

Woman: “Yes, well, that was the pose I wanted.”

Me: “You’ve been approving it every stage of the way.”

Woman: “But this is the wrong color of tree kangaroo.”

Me: “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted a different color?”

Woman: *sighing heavily* I figured it was obvious.”

Me: “I should have just… known?”

Woman: “You’re the artist. I thought you knew those things.”

(She did eventually pay, but informed me that I should learn to ‘sync’ with my clients better, because, as the artist, I should just ‘know’ things. To this day, I still tell all my friends about the tree kangaroo lady who was convinced I should be telepathic.)

This story is part of the Artists-Versus-Clients roundup!

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(A customer walks in the store and proceeds to the counter.)

Customer: “I’m so glad they arrange you folk some proper jobs.”

(She then walks into the store, leaving me puzzled with her comment. She returns in a bit with a product.)

Me: “That’ll be €25.99. Cash or card?”

Customer: “Don’t take this wrong, but I don’t want to give my credit card to a convict.”

Me: “A convict? I assure you I’ve never had any problem with the law.”

Customer: “Why do you have bars in the windows, then?”

Me: “Our insurance company insists on having them so you can’t get in by just breaking a window.”

Customer: “Oh…”

(I’ve never seen anyone with such a bright red face before!)

(I’m working the counter at a popular chicken joint. We sell chicken nuggets in packs of 6, 8, or 12. A large family rushes up to my register.)

Mother: “Don’t you have anything bigger than a 12 pack?”

Me: “We have a party platter with 50 nuggets, but if you order now it will be at least a 30 minute wait as we have to cook them fresh and clear all current orders before we start yours.”

Mother: *looking horrified with my suggestion* “No! We don’t need THAT many. All right, fine. [Father], what do you think?”

Father: “Okay, we’ll take two 12-pack combos, with another 12-pack on the side for each. Two 8-pack combos with extra 8-packs for each of those.”

Boys: “Why can’t we have kids meals?! We want the toy!”

Father: “That’s not enough nuggets for you boys. We got you adult meals so you’d have enough food.”

Boys: “But there’s no TOY!”

Father: “Okay, okay. And two 6-pack kids combos. Oh, and can you value-size all of those?”

(If you haven’t already done the math, that’s a total of 92 nuggets, nearly double the amount on the party platter. A coworker and I attempt to explain that ordering the platter with some fries on the side would be more efficient and cheaper. They continue to insist they don’t need that many nuggets and begin to suggest that my coworker and I are calling them ‘fatties.’ We decide to go ahead with the order as they want it.)

Me: “Uhm… okay.”

(I take their drink orders, double check everything, and help them pay. It takes around 20 minutes to cook their order because of the sheer volume of nuggets. They are grumpy when we hand them their order, but walk away happily popping hot nuggets in their mouths. I still have a bad feeling about the transaction, so I keep an eye on the family as they eat. Thirty minutes later, they return to my counter with a bag full of nugget boxes.)

Mother: “That was WAY too many nuggets. Here. You take them back and give them to someone else.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but health codes won’t allow us to do that. We can only serve food over the counter, not receive it.”

Mother: “Are you kidding me? You’re just going to waste food like that?!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can not take those back.”

Mother: “Well, what am I supposed to do with these?”

Me: “You could save them for later?”

Mother: “Don’t be stupid! We already ate a ton of your nuggets. Why would we go home and eat more?”

(I’m speechless at this point, so my coworker points out a nearby trash can for the woman.)

Mother: “I can’t BELIEVE you’re MAKING me waste this food!”

(I am standing in line. There are two gentlemen in front of me who are together being helped by the cashier.)

Cashier: “Okay, your total is $36.74.”

(This total catches my attention, as this place has a high value-per-dollar. In spite of having a more-than-ample appetite myself, I can always fill up for under $6, so I am curious what two men are going to do with six people’s worth of food.)

Customer: “Oh, that’s too much. Is [Manager #1] here?”

Cashier: “Uh… I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Customer: “Really? [Manager #1] is a manager. He always gives us discounts. Can you just give us a discount?”

Cashier: “Uh… no, I really can’t.”

Customer: “Well, where’s [Manager #1]?”

Cashier: “I really don’t know. I can get a manager if you like.”

Customer: “Yeah, we want to know where [Manager #1] is.”

Cashier: “Hey, [Manager #2]!”

(Manager #2 is out of earshot, so a line cook has to relay the shout farther back in order for her to hear. She has clearly been too far away to know anything about the conversation that just transpired. Manager #2 arrives at the register.)

Manager #2: “Yes, [Cashier]?”

Cashier: “These—”

Customer: *interrupting* “Where’s [Manager #1]?”

Manager #2: “Oh, he doesn’t work here anymore.”

Customer: “Oh, really? What happened?”

Manager #2: “Yeah, apparently he kept giving out discounts to people who’d done nothing to earn them, so we had to fire him.”

(Another register opened to help me, so I didn’t hear the end of their discussion, but when I sat down with my order, they were two tables down with about $10 worth of food.)

(We are catering a Christmas party for a client and his seventy employees. The party includes an open bar and dinner. There are four servers, and two bartenders. I am a bartender. After five hours of making non-stop bar drinks, and receiving non-stop compliments on our drinks, last call arrives, and this conversation happens.)

Client: “I need to go ahead and sign the check. Can you print me one ticket for everything?”

Me: “Yes, sir. Here you are.” *hands over one complete invoice*

Client: “I needed this separate.”

Me: “Oh, yes, sir. I’m sorry. Here.” *separates food and drink tickets and hands them over*

Client: “No, this isn’t right. I need a complete ticket.”

Me: “I don’t understand. You want the tickets together?”

Client: “No! Where the h*** is [Server not working that night]? She knows how I want things done! I REQUESTED HER AND SHE ISN’T HERE TONIGHT!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know why she’s not working. Now, about the ticket…”

Client: “NO! I REQUESTED HER. She’s my friend; she knows how I want things done on the invoice. I won’t come back next year for my Christmas party if you won’t do what I want.”

Me: “If you could explain to me, I can help you.”

Client: “Never mind, I’ll just sign this ticket. Did you autograt this?”

Me: “Yes, sir, 15%.”

Client: “And you’re sharing that with everyone working tonight?                  ”

Me: “Yes, sir. Between six people.”

Client: “Well, then, that’s more than enough for you.” *signs, leaves no extra tip, and stomps out*

(He baffled the entire crew, since he spent five hours giving us nothing but compliments on our service, and never once mentioned the other server’s absence. I can only guess that when he saw the large bill, he made up a reason to be angry so he wouldn’t have to tip any extra for the incredible service we provided. Splitting the 15% between the servers, we barely made minimum wage.)