I do design work for a larger firm. I received an email on Monday morning from a client I’ve worked with in the past. She forwarded me a conversation she’d been having with one of our on-site photographers about a poster and getting photos done for it. The only problem was that this was the first I’d heard of the job.

Client: “There are two great pictures of her running. Can we use this for the running poster? Thanks.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I’ve no record of any formal request for this project.”

Client: “What are you talking about? It’s all in the email I sent you. I even attached the photographs.”

There was no mention of a request, dimensions, paper type, or anything in the actual email or any of the forwarded conversations.

Me: “Yes, the photographs are there, but in order for me to start on this, you need to submit a formal design request with [My Boss].”

Client: “Okay, but can’t you just do it instead? You have all the information.”

Me: “Unfortunately, no, I don’t have all the information. Also, it’s against company policy to work on projects without a formal request. Please submit a request, and one of our graphic designers will get it back to you within two weeks.”

Client: “That’s not good. I need that poster by the end of the week. Aren’t you guys supposed to be able to do this sort of thing?”

Me: “We are, when you actually ask for something formally and in time, yeah.”

I’ve been working with this client for several months building a website for them. I’m dealing with barely legible emails, attempts to change the hosting with a client who is Internet illiterate, and requests to change things just after I’ve finished them exactly to the previous specifications.

Finally, I think I’ve found my way out of this client relationship.

Me: “Just so you are aware, I’m pretty close to my due date, so I will be taking maternity leave for several months at least, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to do any work on your site. You may want to find a new designer to work with.”

Client: “I’ll wait.”

I am creating an advertisement for an interior design company. In the early morning, I get an email from my client.

Client: “Hello. I was looking at the ad you sent me, and I was not very happy about it.”

Me: “Okay, what would you like me to change?”

Client: “I would like you to change how the ad looks.”

Me: “What would you like it to look like?”

Client: “Like a modern house.”

I change the way the whole ad looks and send it to my client.

Client: “What is this?! I wanted it to look like a classic home, not a modern house!”

I send a refund and cut off contact with this client.

Until they use my designs.

Me: “Hi, the designs you are using on your website are mine. Stop using them.”

Client: “They are mine since you sent them to me.”

Me: “Please stop using my designs, or I will have to seek legal action.”

Client: “You can’t bully me! I’m going to talk to my lawyer!”

The next day, I saw that the client had taken down my designs from his website. I can only guess that he DID talk to his lawyer.

Client: “Good morning, I’m interested in a website.”

Me: “Okay, we can help you with that. Can you tell me a little about your business and what the website needs to look like and do?”

Client: “I can, but before that, I want to see some examples of your work.”

I gave him the website address for our portfolio and waited while he typed it in and confirmed he could see it.

Me: “Can you see the portfolio?”

Client: “Your website is making noises at me. Make it stop.”

I could hear what sounded like a jingle or ringtone somewhere in the background.

Me: “I assure you that our website does not make noises.”

Client: *Getting irate* “Yes, it is! Make it stop now! You have no right to do this.”

Me: “It isn’t our website. Are you sure it’s not your phone?”

Client: “What? Hold on…”

I listened to the sounds of him rummaging through a bag, and then the ringing stopped. He continued without any hint of acknowledgment or apology.

Client: “So, back to your portfolio. What are you most proud of? What is your best work?”

Me: “Sorry, but I really don’t think we are going to be able to work together. Thanks for the inquiry, but we cannot help you with this. Bye.”

I was asked to do a little write-up explaining the difference between net weight ounces and fluid ounces for a website selling a bottled product. The boss and owner, an octogenarian, gave me a newspaper clipping of the information to make sure I got it right.

I already knew about basic measurements from school, but I checked the clipping and Google before putting it in my own words. I emailed it to them for approval, and they returned to me a printout of the tiny paragraph with red question marks scrawled around it.

Client: “Where the heck did you get this from? I told you to base it on the newspaper article I gave you! You can’t believe everything you read on the Internet!”

They had been defining fluid ounces as “the weight of the fluid in the bottle sans the weight of the bottle and cap” and explaining it that way to customers for decades as a selling point by saying, “Our competitors’ measurements include the whole bottle!”

Me: “Actually, fluid ounces are a measure of volume, not weight. They’re measuring the volume of the bottle, not adding its weight to their product.”

Client: “That’s not what I remember from my school days!”

The client insisted his definition was right, so rather than fight that battle, I convinced them not to put up anything about ounces. Although, I understand why they thought that information would be “useful to buyers!”