I used to work at the Royal Opera House in London. A couple of women walk in at 1:45 PM.

Customer: “Two tickets to Carmen, please.”

Me: “I’m afraid we’re not playing that.”

Customer: “Yes, you are, the encore performance.”

Me: “I can assure you we’re not playing that.”

Customer: “Yes, you are! I looked online.”

She cracked out her phone to show me and brought up the page that she saw it on.

Customer: “See! 2 PM! Showcase cinema!”

Me: “We aren’t a Showcase cinema; the nearest one’s a fifteen-minute drive away.”

Customer: “It says ‘The Royal Opera House Presents: Carmen’. This is the Royal Opera House!”

Me: “It was a production of the Royal Opera House, but that presentation is shot for cinemas, and we aren’t a cinema.”

Customer: “Well, that’s false advertising! It says you’re putting on the performance, so I insist you put on the performance!”

Me: “Okay, well, I’ll just ask all the performers to stop preparation for The Marriage Of Figaro and have it set up for Carmen in, oooh, about twelve minutes. I’m sure the audience won’t mind.”

Customer’s Friend: *To her friend.* “I told you we should have just gone to see Mamma Mia!”

I work at a medium-sized concert hall. During a recent show, someone turned in a cellphone that was found in the bathroom. As per standard procedure, I check to see if their name is listed in the emergency contacts so we can locate the seat they are in, but no name or emergency contacts were filled out. Thinking that was the end of it, I attempted to sign into the phone using the universal older person passcode of 1234.

Of course, that worked, and I was able to access the phone to see if I could find a contact labeled husband/wife/daughter/or something similar. Finding no contacts that I could easily identify, I go to their recent texts and see a text where they are complaining to someone about having tickets for tonight’s show, and they didn’t want to go but didn’t want to let down [Name], a friend who was driving them.

I respond to the text: “Hello, this phone was found at ABC Theater, and we have been unable to find the owner. If you know the person they are with, can you let them know the phone was being held at the front desk?”

Five minutes later, two people show up, stating that their sister in another state texted that we had the phone. I gave it over to them, and the phone owner commented that they had turned the phone off and didn’t notice they dropped it, and most likely wouldn’t have noticed until tomorrow morning.

I was happy to have my little hero moment, but this was the fourth or fifth time I’ve gotten into a lost phone with a 1234 passcode.

Our client wanted an image for their homepage that showed off the atmosphere of their live music venue. We were presented with a poster of a live artist on stage rocking out with other musicians.

Me: “This is fantastic. If this is what you want, can we use this picture?”

Client: “Yes, of course. That’s what I just said.”

Me: “Okay, awesome. Is this inside your venue?”

Client: “No, it’s somewhere else.”

Me: “Oh. Did you take the picture? Is this one of your bands?”

Client: “No, no, no. It’s the perfect look and feel, and that’s what matters, okay? Just take the guy’s face out and use a face from somebody else who nobody will recognise. Maybe Photoshop our venue in place of the stage, too.”

I designed a poster for a friend who was hosting a concert.

Client: “So, the concert was canceled, but we managed to find another artist for the same day. Can you make us the flyers and everything else?”

Me: “Sure, but I still need you to pay me for making the poster for the one that got canceled.”

Client: “But it was canceled! Besides, you didn’t spend anything on the job except some time.”

Me: “I spent three weeks on it while attending university, and the job is completely done.”

Client: “Well, we are not going to pay that, and the next one… we need it in less than a week and at half the price.”

I’m a member of the choir volunteering my help before the concert, but I’m not actually part of the front of house staff, as I’ll be on stage during the concert itself.

It’s about an hour before the concert starts, and the front of house staff are still inside the hall finishing their safety briefing. The bar is ready to serve people and has some seats, so as there are a few customers already waiting, we open the main doors. I’m sent to the entrance to the ticket sales/collections desks to stop any customers coming through.

Me: “I’m afraid we’re not quite open for tickets yet, but the bar is just down there if you’d like a drink or somewhere to sit down.”

Grumpy Man: “Why did you open the doors if you’re not ready to sell tickets? That’s so unprofessional!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but the front of house staff haven’t finished their briefing. We opened the doors because the bar is open.”

Grumpy Man: “It’s what you’d expect from a tiny country town, not in the city!”

My “boss,” the choir president, comes up behind me.

Boss: “They’re finishing the safety briefing, which we have to have. It will only be a couple of minutes.”

Grumpy Man: “You can’t expect people to pay good money if you have this kind of amateur communication skills. It’s completely ridiculous.”

The hall doors open and the front of house staff come out and go to the ticket desks.

Me: “Tickets are now available if you’d like to come through.”

I still have no idea why he was so offended. It was cold and raining outside; most people would have liked to come into the lobby.