(I have a table at a local festival where I am selling copies of the books I wrote. A male customer, probably between 45 and 50 years old, comes to my table. He asks how it’s going — the usual — and then picks up my newest book about a zombie world. I tell him a bit of what it’s about. I’m a girl.)

Customer: “Hmm… I’m just trying to think if a boy would like this.”

Me: *happily* “Of course a boy would like it!”

Customer: “Yeah, but the protagonist is a girl.”

Me: *not quite as nicely as my last answer to him* “So? Boys can read about girls.”

Customer: *shaking his head* “Nah. No they can’t.”

Me: “Why not?”

Customer: “They can’t relate.”

Me: *clearly annoyed at this point* “Of course they can! Girls read books about boys.”

Customer: “Yeah, but that’s different.”

Me: “How? How is that different?”

Customer: *long pause* “Girls are different.”

Me: “No, they’re not. A girl reading a book about a boy is the same as a boy reading a book about a girl.”

Customer: *still shaking his head* “No, I don’t think so.”

Me: “Why can a girl read a book about a boy, but a boy can’t read a book about a girl?”

Customer: “Well, my son is 17… and he likes to read… I don’t have any cash on me, though.”

Me: *smiling* “That’s okay; I take credit cards, too.”

Customer: “Oh…”

(He buys it, I think only because he realizes he is being a moron and feels bad for clearly offending me.)

Me: “Do you want a receipt emailed or texted to you?”

Customer: *rudely* “No, then I’ll have to give you my information.”

Me: “Okay, you don’t have to get one; I was just giving you the option.”

(It was so hard for me not to sign the book, “I hope you like it even though it’s about a GIRL!” But I was also giving away chapter samplers for my next book, and was able to finish the transaction off with, “Oh, and here’s a free chapter sampler for my book that’s coming out next year. Your son will definitely like it because it has girl AND boy protagonists.”)

(I am reading a book at home.)

Book: “…up to 60 percent of specimens [of tyrannosaurs] display evidence of face biting in battle, hinting at how the [deadly] infection may have spread.”

Wife: *spontaneously starts biting my lip*

Me: *laughing* “So, let me tell you what I was just reading…”

(I work at a technical school where we sell courses and books on different software tools.)

Customer: “I bought your [Software] book and it was outdated! I wasted money on that! I want my money back!”

Me: “Sir, all our books are updated whenever a new version of [Software] has major changes. Mind sending me a screenshot of the book you have?”

Customer: “Okay.”

(I receive the screenshot. It is a badly scanned copy of an old version.)

Me: “Can you complain to the person who sold you this pirated copy of one of our books?”

Customer: *no response*

Me: “Can I redirect you to sales? I’m sure they can give you good deals on our books.”

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(I work in a small library.)

Customer: “Where is your fantasy section?”

Me: “Are you looking for graphic novels or regular books?”

Customer: “Just show me the fantasy section.”

Me: “I’m sorry. We don’t have a separate section for fantasy; it will just be in general fiction.”

Customer: *looking exasperated* “I’m looking for a book I was reading a couple of years ago.”

Me: “Okay, I can look it up for you on the computer; what was it called?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Who was the author?”

Customer: “I can’t remember.”

Me: “Umm…”

Customer: “It was a fantasy book, and I’d know it if I saw the cover, so I need a fantasy section.”

Me: *thinking on my feet* “Can you give me an idea of the plot? I can ask a couple of colleagues if they can help.”

Customer: *yelling* “I don’t know. I just want to see the cover! Why don’t you have a fantasy section?”

Me: “Because this is small library run entirely by volunteers, and we don’t have space for one. Have you thought about going into the city centre library and asking there? Or looking in a bookshop?”

(The customer stomped off, muttering something about paying council tax for libraries. Don’t think she got the point about us all being unpaid volunteers.)

(This story takes place just after the fifth “Harry Potter” book is released. I have my copy in my purse — like most stores, my employer only allows clear plastic purses and bags on the sales floor to discourage theft. This occurs while I am walking to the break room:)

Customer: “Do you work here?”

Me: *I’m off the clock but still respond* “Yes. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Oh, I don’t need anything except your name. I’m going to report you to your employer for promoting Satanism.”

Me: “Um…”

Customer: “I see that filth!” *points to “Harry Potter” book* “I can’t believe that the owner of this store would appreciate his employees advertising encouraging witchcraft.”

Me: “Ma’am, this is my personal property and had nothing to do—”

Customer: “Be quiet! I know evil when I see it, and this is inappropriate. I’m going to find a manager.”

Me: “Of course. Customer service is on the second floor. You can’t miss it. It’s right next to a very large display on Harry Potter merchandise, and is where I bought this book with my employee discount, just like almost every other employee and manager here.”

Customer: *mutters something about “Satan everywhere” and storms off*