(I’ve worked at many different pools, but the number one complaint I get, no matter what pool I’m at, is that “the pool is too cold.” Some people don’t understand that a pool is not a bathtub, and we can’t turn up the heat on demand. Since the pool is so big, and filters gallons of water in and out, it literally takes days to cool down or heat up the pool. Furthermore, health and safety policies dictate that we have to keep the pool within a certain temperature range. My response to this complaint for years has been to explain these facts, and tell them what the temperature reading was at the last pool test. One day, at one of the biggest pools I’ve worked at, an elderly woman enters the pool and makes a big show of acting like she has just stepped into ice water.)

Patron: “The water is so cold today.”

Me: “The last temperature reading said 85 degrees.”

Patron: *confused* “What does that mean?”

Me: “Our policy aims to have our pool between 83 and 87 degrees in order to operate. We’re actually above the minimum level.”

Patron: “So, you have two more degrees to go.”

Me: “Uh, yes. Two more degrees until the maximum.”

Patron: “So, turn it up.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Patron: “It’s far too cold to be comfortable. Get someone to turn up the heat.”

Me: “Ma’am, if we turn it up too much, then the competitive swimmers could overheat.”

Patron: “You just said that you could go two degrees higher, so just go to the back and turn up the switch.”

Me: “Uh, I’m actually not trained to—”

Patron: “And hurry up; I’m only here for half an hour today.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am, but there is no way the heat will increase that much in so little time.”

(I’m about to explain to her why this is, when she sees a maintenance worker come onto the pool deck.)

Patron: “Oh, you’re useless. I’ll just ask [Worker]; he knows what to do.”

(She gets his attention and asks him what she asked me. I continue to guard, but I listen in, expecting him to say the same thing I did. To my surprise, I hear him say, “No problem,” and he walks away. The patron smiles smugly at me and begins her walking workout, while I stand there confused. Ten minutes later, he comes back, and I approach him before the lady sees him.)

Me: “Did you really turn up the heat for the pool?”

Worker: *smirks* “Oh, no, that’s just a line I shoot them so they’ll get off my back.”

(He then walks over to the lady.)

Worker: “How’s that?”

Patron: “Much better; thank you.”

(I put a sign in my building saying I’m renting my parking spot monthly for the winter. A few days later, another tenant calls me.)

Tenant: “I saw your sign, and I’m wondering if I could pay every week instead of every month?”

Me: “I’d really prefer monthly checks to make it easier for everyone.”

Tenant: “I don’t know how checks work. Can’t I just meet you every week to give you money? See, it’s quite expensive, and I can’t afford it one month at a time, so I need to pay you every week. Also, could you lower the price because I’m on a low income?”

Me: “Sorry. As I said, I’d like the full amount to be paid monthly by check; it’s much more simple for me.”

Tenant: *getting flustered* “But I can’t use checks, and it’s too expensive, and I can only pay one week at a time. You’re not at all accommodating to your customers!”

Me: “Lady, I’m not a business; I’m just renting my parking spot. I don’t owe you anything. I hope you find another place to park. Goodbye.”

(My husband and I have bought a house. It is a show-home, and because of this, the builder has to keep it “on display” for six weeks after we close the deal. This happens on the day that we finally move in. We’ve been unpacking all day, and have decided to take a lunch break in the driveway. A car pulls up outside, a lady gets out, and she walks briskly past us up to the front door.)

Me: “Hello! Can we help you?”

Realtor: *stopping dead and staring at us* “What are you doing here?”

Me: “Having lunch.”

Realtor: “You can’t be here! Please leave.”

Husband: “Why would we do that?”

Realtor: “Well, for one thing, you’re trespassing. For another, I’m about to show this house to a client.”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

Realtor: “What do you mean?”

Me: “This is our house.”

Realtor: “EXCUSE me?”

Me: “This is OUR house. As in, we bought it, and we’re moving in today.”

Realtor: “WHAT? Nobody told me! I made arrangements several days ago for today’s showing!”

Husband: “Well, we signed the paperwork six weeks ago, so…”

Realtor: “This can’t be right. Are you sure you’re at the right place?”

Me: “Um, yes.”

Realtor: “…can I still show the house to my client?”

Husband: “What? Of course not!”

Realtor: “FINE!”

(She drove off in a very bad mood.)

(I answer the phone over the lunch break at work. The CFL is the Canadian Football League.)

Customer: “Hi, I want to talk to the lady I talked to before about the CFL.”

Me: “I’m afraid it wasn’t me, but do you have the name of the person who was helping you?”

Customer: *snapping at me* “I don’t keep track of names!”

Me: “Okay, did you call earlier today?”

Customer: “No. It was like a month ago or something. Just find her for me.”

Me: “If it was that long ago, I really don’t know who that might be.”

Customer: “Well, just ask around!”

(I put him on hold and ask my coworkers at the desk. None of them remember talking to him.)

Me: “No one I spoke to seems to be the lady who you spoke with before.”

Customer: “Did you ask everyone?”

Me: “Well, sir, we have around thirty staff members. I don’t know which one might have spoken to you.”

Customer: “Oh, so, you’re like a big company then. Are they all there today?”

Me: “No. There are only about ten here today, and it’s lunch time, so there are only about five people available.”

Customer: “Oh. Well, my name is [Name] and my phone number is [number]. I want to talk to her about ordering a CFL playbook.”

Me: “Oh, all right. Could I possibly help you with that?”

Customer: “NO! I only want to talk to her!”

Me: “…All right, then. I’ll post a note with your contact information. Have a nice day.”

(The note is currently still sitting there, untouched.)

(I am working on family day when I have a customer come in.)

Customer: “I want a knife that never goes dull.”

Me: “That’s impossible.”

Customer: “Why is it impossible?”

Me: “Because after about 6,000 cuts, which is about six or seven months of using a kitchen knife, it starts to go dull, because the cutting board starts to dull the knife.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous. I had a kitchen knife that never went dull! You’re just selling us cheap, dollar-store brand knives.”

Me: “Ma’am, we are representing knives that have been around for hundreds of years. These companies have won many innovation awards, and are most commonly used by chefs who work in the culinary industry. Do you mind asking me what happened to your knife that never went dull?”

Customer: “It stopped cutting things after about a year, so I threw it out.”

Me: “…that’s because it went dull.”

Customer: “That’s just stupid; knives don’t go dull!”

(After about ten more minutes of explaining why eventually all knives go dull, she felt the need to call my district manager, who told her the same thing I did. Needless to say, she was not the sharpest knife in the drawer.)