(I’m running my particular department by myself on this Saturday; I got roped into covering a shift. It’s not so terrible, but I sell fine art supplies and I get the chance to deal with the most pompous customers from time to time. The phone rings, and I answer.)

Me: “Art and supplies; how may I help you today?”

Caller: “Do you have [Paint Brand]?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we—“

Caller: *starts rambling about something unrelated* “So, do you have it?”

Me: “We—“

Caller: “I want cadmium red, orange, and a blue. Do you have [Paint Brand]?”

Me: “Sir, we don’t hav—“

Caller: “Do you have it?”

Me: “We don—“

Caller: “Stop interrupting me! You know, you young people are so g**d*** RUDE!” *starts rambling on and on*

Me: *hangs up*

(I am walking across the floor when an elderly man approaches me, holding a photo. He is very gruff throughout the entire interaction; I am very chipper, as that is my permanent state of being while at work.)

Customer: “Can you help me?”

Me: “I certainly can. What do you need?”

Customer: “I need to copy this picture.”

(I can see this picture was taken by a professional and has their copyright on it. I know that we can copy these pictures only if it’s been 70 years since the photographer’s death, but this picture is not that old.)

Me: “I see. When was it taken?”

Customer: “Ten years ago. Why?”

Me: “I see. Well, it’s got a copyright there, and it was taken by a professional, so we can’t legally copy them.”

Customer: “I’ll just cut it off, then.”

Me: “It was still taken by a professional.”

(He visibly starts getting angry, and waves the picture around.)

Customer: “Then where can I take it?”

Me: “I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry.”

Customer: “Well, do you have a cutter?!”

Me: “I don’t have one customers can use.”

Customer: “This is ridiculous!”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir—”

Customer: “No, you’re not!”

(And with that he marched away, while inside my head I definitely rescinded the “sorry.”)

Related:
The Customer Is Not Always Copyright, Part 3
The Customer Is Not Always Copyright, Part 2
The Customer Is Not Always Copyright

(When my uncle was a child, he was looking at my grandmother’s driver’s license.)

Uncle: “Mom, what’s this F on your license for?

Grandma: “Well, honey, that means I am a woman. The F stands for ‘female.’ If I were a man, it would be an M for ‘male.’”

Uncle: “Oh, I thought it meant you got an F in sex.”

(He is the ninth out of ten kids.)

(I’m in class at 2:27 pm, and my teacher is giving a test. It’s almost over.)

Teacher: “Right, you have ten more minutes.”

(He writes 1:27 on the board, plus ten equals 1:37.)

Classmate: “It’s 2, not 1.”

(The teacher looks at her and then at the board, sighs, and fixes his mistake.)

Classmate: “Daylight saving time, remember?”

Teacher: “Did that happen this week?”

(Later, he is explaining his two extra credit assignments, which are to go to events and write quick papers about them.)

Teacher: “This one is happening tomorrow, March 27th. This one is happening this Friday, April 5th.”

Class: “That’s next Friday.”

Teacher: *looks at them and then looks closer at the date* “Oh, it’s next week. I’m an hour behind and a week behind!”

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

23 Times When Having To Work Overtime Should Have Been A Crime

Read the next story in this roundup!

Read the Daylight Saving Time roundup!

(The city I work in has a big race every year, and the street that my cafe is on is closed for the race. As a result, the shop is very slow; the only people in the shop are me — a shift lead — and a cashier who has just moved here. This city is also well-known for its pretentious, entitled yuppies. The shop has two doors, and the back door is near a gap in the counter for the employees to go in and out. The area can be kind of confusing, and customers frequently start turning too early and accidentally end up behind the counter. Every other time this happens, the customer quickly realizes it and goes around to the correct side of the counter. The day of the race, a woman who has just finished running comes in the back door, turns the corner, and ends up behind the counter. She realizes her mistake, pauses, decides she doesn’t care, and comes further back to put her banana peel in the trash, putting her right behind our register. She stays behind the register, peel in hand, to have the following argument:)

Me: “Ma’am, this is an employee-only area.”

Customer: “I’m just throwing out my peel.”

Me: “I understand, but you can’t be back here. There is a trash can on the other side of the counter, right over there.”

Customer: “I told you, I’m just throwing out my peel!”

Me: “Ma’am, you’re standing behind our cash register. I can’t allow anyone who is not an employee to be back here.”

Customer: “Are you saying I’m trying to steal from you? I have plenty of money! I don’t need to steal from a stupid little coffee shop!”

Me: “Ma’am, our insurance doesn’t allow us to have anyone who is not an employee behind the counter. If you would please move into the customer’s area, I would be happy to get a drink started for you.”

Customer: “You can’t accuse me of stealing! I have more money than you would know what to do with! I’m just throwing out my banana peel! You can’t treat me like this!” *storms out*

Cashier: “Did that really just happen?”