My father told me this story from when he worked in a pawnshop in the 1980s.

The pawnshop specialises in musical instruments and equipment and is the largest second-hand dealer of those goods in the city. One day, a friend of Dad’s wants to pawn a 1970s Ibanez Les Paul-type guitar with a sunburst finish. It doesn’t have a serial number — not unusual for Ibanez at the time — but it has some identifying marks: belt buckle scratches on the back and a small Brazilian flag sticker on the back of the neck. The deal is made and his friend walks away with the money.

As the months go on, Dad’s friend doesn’t come back for the guitar, so Dad calls up and tells him that it will have to go to auction. It fails to meet the reserve price at auction, so Dad calls him up again and says it will go on the shop floor for sale but that if he wants it back he can come in and pay for it — at a discount — before it’s sold.

One day, a man walks in and sees the guitar on display. The man claims it is his and describes it to dad in detail — the scratches, the sticker — without touching it. Dad calls the police and a detective from the theft division is sent out. The guitar is taken as evidence and Dad’s friend is subsequently charged with dealing in stolen goods.

Some months later, another man walks in wanting to sell a guitar. It is a 1970s Ibanez Les Paul-type guitar with a sunburst finish, belt buckle wear on the back, a Brazilian flag sticker on the back of the headstock, and with the same case and accessories as the other guitar.

Dad stalls the second man and is able to convince him to get a coffee across the street while they do additional ID checks. Then, he calls the police and speaks to the detective, who confirms that the original guitar is still in evidence.

The detective comes to the shop with the original guitar. It is confirmed that there are two nearly identical guitars.

Then, the customer who claimed the original guitar was his walks in!

Dad suggests to the detective that the customer plays both guitars and tells them which is actually his. The customer confirms that the second guitar is his, because he had adjusted the string height to be lower than the other guitar.

The man trying to sell the second guitar is charged and Dad’s friend is cleared.

We’re not sure why the two guitars were identical, but we suspect that there was one owner who bought them new and sold them separately. This would explain the similar belt buckle scratches and the Brazilian flag stickers.

(There has been some recent heavy rain. A library patron alerts us to an elderly woman with a walking frame who has slipped outside in front of the library. We call an ambulance and I sit with her until it arrives; she is in a lot of pain. The ambulance eventually arrives and they are trying to transfer her to a stretcher. She seems to be a little confused, won’t let go of my hand, and thinks I’m her daughter. At this point, one of our more demanding regulars approaches:)

Regular: “Ah, [My Name], good, you’re not doing anything. Your Wi-Fi is very slow today; can you fix it?”

Me: “No, I can’t right now. Can you ask someone who is inside?”

Regular: “There is a line inside.”

Me: “Well, go and stand in it.”

(He walks back inside.)

Paramedic: “Wow.”

Me: “Yeah.”

(I am selling a secondhand hard drive for $20. This is a very reasonable price as most people sell the same item for $25 or more around here. Someone messages me:)

Buyer: “5.”

(Not $5, not 5:00 pm, not a greeting, or any other indicator.)

Me: “5?”

Buyer: “Yup.”

Me: “Sorry, what do you mean, ‘5’?”

Buyer: “For the hard drive.”

Me: “Do you mean five dollars?”

Buyer: “Yup.”

Me: “Sorry, it’s $20. If you’re willing to pay that much I can give it to you; otherwise, I’ll find someone who is willing.”

Buyer: “A 1-terabyte secondhand drive for $20? F****** rip off.”

Me: “I personally haven’t seen anyone selling a 1-terabyte hard-drive for $5 before, but if they are, feel free to buy one. I’m selling mine for $20.”

Buyer: “If you can’t handle the d*** price, I’m not paying more than what they are. F****** simple. I know my prices, bye.”

(I know he’s not going to cooperate, so I say:)

Me: “I have buyers willing to be polite and negotiate to pay a reasonable price, so I am going to terminate this conversation now. Thank you. Also, beginning the conversation with the number ‘5’ and no greeting or quantifier of what you mean by that does not make me want to negotiate with you since, frankly, that’s extremely rude.”

(He then sends one more message before blocking me:)

Buyer: “Get f***ed.”

(Then, he gave me my only negative seller review. I later sold the product for $25.)

This story is part of our online shopping roundup! This is the last story in the roundup, but we have plenty of others you might enjoy!

15 Hilarious Stories About Customers Demanding The Impossible

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(I’m planning to make a new set of arrows and go to my local store to get all the parts. Unfortunately, they don’t have the points I want in stock, but they refer me to a nearby competitor where I’ve never been. This happens in the second shop. There is one employee inside and no other customers.)

Me: “Hello, I’m looking for [Brand] [size] points. Do you have any?”

Employee #1: “Here.” *hands me the points, wanders off to the back before I have a chance to pay*

Me: “Um…”

(I try to call for the employee but no answer. Figuring I have time, I look around the shop for a while. About ten minutes later, another employee walks in from the back.)

Employee #2: “Hi, how can I help you?”

Me: *holding up the bag I’ve been holding for ten minutes and walking to the till holding my card* “Hi, yes, I just wanted these [Brand] [size] points. Your colleague got them for me, and then disappeared.”

Employee #2: “Yes, those are the correct ones. Is there something else you need?” *looks at me with confusion*

Me: “So… can I pay for them?”

Employee #2: “Oh…” *wanders off to the back room but returns shortly*

Employee #2: “I have no idea where he went…” *looks lost*

Me: “How much for these?”

Employee #2 “Oh, yeah… [price].”

Me: “THANK YOU.”

(Total time to get points: fifteen seconds. Total time to get cashiers to let me PAY for points: fifteen minutes.)

(The city has just started a month-long arts festival, and there is also a motocross championship happening, so you can’t get a motel room easily. I’m checking into a cheap motel with an okay reputation, just happy to get a room at short notice. I’m checking in early and know that I might have to wait a little while before the room is ready. I’m filling out the registration form while the receptionist is on the phone. A well-dressed lady in her 40s storms in.)

Lady: *to me* “Urgh! This place is disgusting. You’re not staying here, are you?”

Me: “Actually, I am.

Lady: “Well, don’t. It’s disgusting — definitely not worth [price]!”

Receptionist: *off the phone* “Hello. Checking out?”

Lady: *throws room keys at him* “Yes, and I want a refund now!”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?”

Lady: “The mirror is smashed; I could have seriously hurt myself. There’s no parking, I had to park on the street, and the room reeks of cigarette smoke.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, I explained yesterday that it had just been broken and that we would replace it, but you didn’t want to wait. Parking shouldn’t be a problem; we have more than enough spaces.”

Lady: “When there are a bus and a four-wheel drive with a trailer there are not!”

Receptionist: “We have allocated spots for large vehicles. Did you try closer to the office?”

Lady: “Well, how was I meant to know about that?! It’s not like I work here.”

Receptionist: “Anything else, ma’am?”

Lady: “The room reeks of cigarette smoke. I’m allergic. It nearly killed me.”

Receptionist: “We have extremely sensitive smoke alarms in the rooms and bathrooms that would have had the fire brigade here if someone smoked in the room.”

Lady: *huffing, now really angry* “This place is disgusting. I’m putting a review on [Travel Website] and talking to a lawyer.”

Receptionist: “Ma’am, you arrived last night when we were full. We managed to get a room ready when someone had checked out early. I explained about the mirror when you inspected the room, and you stayed over checkout by two and a half hours and didn’t bring this to my attention. I can’t help you, but the owner will be here tomorrow if you want to talk to them.”

(The lady storms out, cursing.)

Receptionist: *takes a deep breath* “I’m so sorry about that.”

Me: “That’s fine, not your fault.”

Receptionist: “I’m sorry, your room isn’t quite ready yet. It is room eight, the room she complained about, but once it’s ready you can inspect it and the mirror can be fixed later this afternoon.”

(He looks scared that I will cause a scene.)

Me: “It’s okay. I’ll just go and get a coffee up the road, and I’m sure the room’s fine. She’s just a b****.”

(The receptionist looks relieved and laughs a little. I leave as more people come in. Twenty minutes later, I get the call to check in. The room doesn’t smell of smoke, there is a small amount of damage to the bottom of the bathroom mirror where the glass has been removed, and there is plenty of parking, just not right beside the room. Later, when I check out, both the receptionist and owner are there, with the owner on the phone in the back office.)

Receptionist: “Miss [My Name], I hope the room was acceptable.”

Me: “It was fine. The mirror didn’t bother me, I couldn’t smell smoke — I have severe allergies — and I found the parking fine. I really appreciate the early check-in. Thank you. I’m lucky to have gotten a great room so cheap at this time.”

Owner: “Hi, are you the lady that stayed in room eight last night?”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

Owner: “Can you please tell me what happened?”

(I recount what happened, and I give my impression of the room and the great job the young receptionist did.)

Owner: “Thank you. I just had that other woman on the phone demanding a refund, saying that [Receptionist] yelled at her and called her a rich b****, and that [Receptionist] had been smoking when she inspected the room.”

(I was given a discount on my room by the owner and thanked by the receptionist and wished a safe trip. As I was about to drive away, the receptionist ran out with bags of drinks and snacks, more than enough to keep me going through my eight-hour drive home, as a thank-you. Seriously, lady, you check into a cheap motel at one of the busiest times of the year, when other motels are charging up to five times their normal rates, for under $100, and expect five stars?!)