(We have an email address that we let people use to send files to us, as long as they are in the store at the time, so we can go over the order together and fill out a proper order form. If the customer is at home, we ask them to use our website, for many different reasons. This day I see an email asking how much a certain order will be, along with attached files. These exchanges have been shortened a little.)

Customer: “How much would it cost to get [job] done?”

Me: “It would cost [price] if you were to have the standard items across the board. This is, however, a very large order that needs to be prepaid, and I would feel more comfortable if you came into the store so we can print a sample for you and make sure we understand the order.”

Customer: “I’ve never prepaid for anything before. Is this a new rule? And it’s not that big of an order.”

Me: “No, it’s not a new rule. Generally, orders under $100 aren’t always made to prepay, but anything higher than that needs to be prepaid because people don’t come to pick up their orders. I can keep your files saved on our computer for you, so that when you come in to go over the order, you don’t have to bring the files in. Is that okay?”

Customer: “I’ll have to go somewhere else if I can’t prepay. We never prepay for anything. This is ridiculous. I’ll come in to look at proofs.”

(The customer never comes in. But then a few days later, my coworker texts me.)

Coworker: “So, it was super dead at work tonight, so I was going through old order forms to recall people, telling them to come get their stuff, and there was a two-month-old order that wasn’t even paid for, so I emailed them to ask if they still wanted it. And I realized that it’s the same person who was getting mad about having to prepay earlier this week! SHE’S THE REASON WE WANT ORDERS TO BE PREPAID!”

(I work in a copy shop next door to a bookstore. I see a woman copying a book obviously just purchased from next door. We are strict about copyright violations, so I ask her to stop. She demands to speak to a manager, and we are waiting a long time for him to come over.)

Woman: “I’m just trying to save money. They want $15, and I just won’t pay that much! So, if I copy this whole book—”

Me: “—wait, you want to copy the entire book?”

Woman: “Of course! Then I’ll return it right away and save $15!”

Me: “You realize our copies are seven cents each, right?”

Woman: “Yes, only seven cents each!”

Me: “That book is at least 250 pages; this will cost you more than $15.”

Woman: “No! What? That’s impossible!”

(This is about when the manager comes over and asks what the problem is.)

Woman: “Well, to start with, I don’t think your employee here knows how math works!”

(She was told she couldn’t copy the copyrighted book, and left grumbling about math.)

(It is just days after Hurricane Irma, and while our store has power again, we unfortunately don’t have phone or Internet because our provider is experiencing huge outages across the state. We have signs up on both doors stating that the Internet is down, and signs on both rental computers stating the same thing. A girl who looks to be in her early 20s comes in and sits down at one of the rental computers.)

Me: “I can get you logged on, but just so you’re aware, we don’t have any Internet right now.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s fine; I just need to print something off real quick.”

Me: “Do you have it on a flash drive?”

Customer: “No, it’s in my email. Why?”

Me: “Our Internet isn’t working right now.”

Customer: “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t need the Internet; I just need my email.”

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Customer: “I have six boxes I want to ship. Can you do that?”

Me: “Sure, we can.”

Customer: “Okay. They might be heavy; I have a lot of clothes in them.”

Me: “That’s okay; the max weight for shipping out is 150 pounds.”

Customer: “Oh. I have a lot of cotton clothes. But there’s six boxes.”

Me: “Okay. Do you have them here?”

Customer: “No. But you’ll be able to tell me, right?”

Me: “Tell you what?”

Customer: “Yeah… see, ’cause I have to send all these costumes back, and some of them are heavy, like one of them is 7 pounds on its own, but most of the other clothes are just cotton.”

Me: “…oh.”

Customer: “So, you’ll have an idea, right?”

Me: “An idea of what?”

Customer: “Of the cost.”

Me: “Oh, well I can create an estimate. Where’s it going?”

Customer: “California.”

Me: “Okay, do you have the zip code?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “Do you have the address?”

Customer: “No.”

Me: “I’ll need one or the other in order to get a proper quote for you. Do you have it saved in your phone or something?”

Customer: “No. But yeah. You can get an idea. Yeah, there’s a lot of clothes that I’m sending, and I’m so mad that I have to send them all back. It’ll probably be 150 pounds once I fill all the boxes.”

(I kind of want her to stop talking, since I don’t even know how to respond to her, so I type in 90210 as the zip code so that I can give her some kind of quote.)

Me: “This quote isn’t totally accurate, because I just put in 90210 for the zip code, but it’s coming up to [price]. That’s for six boxes at this size, all equaling 150 pounds.”

Customer: “WHAT?! That’s so expensive! How much would it cost to send it Canada Post?”

Me: “I’m not sure; you’d have to go to the post office.”

Customer: “Because this guy, his size is like 34x34x34! Like, you’ve got to be joking! So I put the pants on and they come up to my neck! I was so mad! I can’t wear these! They said they’d send me 50 bucks to mail them back, but there’s so many costumes!”

Me: “…oh.”

Customer: “But, oh my gosh, you’ve been so helpful! Thank you so much! Oh my gosh, I’m so happy now! Thanks!”

(She leaves and I turn to my coworker:)
Me: “That was weird.”

(I am a part-time employee. On one of my days off, I get a call.)

General Manager: “Where are you? Aren’t you coming in today?”

Me: “What? No, I don’t think so.”

(I double-check the schedule just to make sure, and I am indeed off.)

Me: “No, I’m listed as being off today.”

General Manager: “But [New Coworker] said you were trading shifts with her today!”

Me: “What? No one told me!”

General Manager: “Huh? But she said you were fine with it! That’s why I switched you!”

Me: “She never even mentioned it to me.”

General Manager: “Well, can you come in anyway? She’s not answering her phone.”

(I was able to come in, and only missed the first hour or so of the shift. Shockingly, the new worker didn’t show up on the day she supposedly “switched” for, either, so I had to work that day, too. My GM got wise after that though, and started conferring with me whenever she asked to “switch.” She stopped showing up to work about a month later, and then had the gall to apply for unemployment.)