You Could Write A Copied Book About It

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(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.)

Weeding Out The Junkies

, , , , | Right | October 13, 2017

(For a future program, we’re having a conversation about medical marijuana being sold in our state. We have the program advertised on the bulletin board when this happens. A woman sees the advertisement, and then begins screaming across the lobby at us.)

Woman: “YOU’RE SELLING WEED?!”

Us: “No, it’s a conversation!”

Woman: “BUT IT SAYS YOU’RE SELLING WEED!”

Us: “It’s a conversation about selling weed!”

(The woman comes to the front desk.)

Us: “You got excited, didn’t you?”

Woman: “Yeah…”

What An Alco-Hole

, , , , , , | Right | October 12, 2017

(Here in Minnesota we have strict liquor laws concerning selling anything other than 3.2 beer after 10:00 pm. If anyone sells alcohol past that time, both the cashier and the business get a very hefty fine. Imagine my grim surprise when, two minutes after closing, the door opens and a woman rushes in.)

Customer: “I know you’re closed, but I just got off the phone with the woman in charge. She said I could buy alcohol as long as it’s five minutes after.”

Me: “You talked to my boss?”

Customer: “Yes.”

(Thankfully, since my boss is cool, and I work in a small town liquor store, I’m allowed to be rude to fools.)

Me: *laughs* “You heard wrong.”

Customer: “She totally told me that. Where is she?”

Me: “She’s been gone for six hours; it’s just me here. But what is it you wanted?”

Customer: “I told her I was just going to get a pint of [Cognac].”

Me: *laughs even harder* “Ma’am, we’ve been out of [Cognac] for weeks. Well, I do have 1.75L of it left, but if you really need it that bad, it’ll cost $20,046.”

Customer: “What?! Why is it so expensive?!”

Me: “Because of all the fines we’ll receive for selling after ten o’clock, plus a little extra for me so I can find myself a new job after I sell it to you.”

Customer: *getting defensive* “Well, you don’t have to get hostile. I’ll call her back and get you fired, anyway!”

Me: *shrugs* “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

(She angrily left, and I called my boss. Obviously, she never got a phone call from someone about coming in late. After a bit of speculation and calling around, we discovered that there was a new girl working two miles down the road at a separate liquor store, who answered the call. I saved her a massive fine.)

I Will Plant Myself Right Here

, , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(I work at a hotel resort in the Rockies, doing the overnight shift. Since it is a slow night, I spend most of it in the back room doing my reports. At 3:00 am, I go out to roll the business date and come face to face with one of our guests, clearly under the influence, trying to walk off with one of the plants we keep at the front desk. He looks at me, alarmed, obviously not expecting me to be there, and I look at him, surprised to see someone as well. After a moment, he slowly sets the plant back down.)

Guest: *pouting* “You weren’t supposed to see me.”

(He sheepishly walked over to the elevators, and I did my best to refrain from laughing until the elevator doors closed behind him.)

There’s A Meth To His Madness

, , , , , | Right | October 11, 2017

(A customer is freaking out in the men’s bathroom, slamming the stall door, and I have to go tell him to leave since I am the only guy working.)

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Customer: *spills his water* “Uh, sorry, what did you say?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir; you have to leave. You’re damaging property and you’re scaring the customers.”

Customer: “Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m schizophrenic and I… I just have these episodes.”

Me: “It’s fine, man; I understand, but you still have to leave.”

(The customer leaves, and I go back to the bathroom to see how big of a mess he made, but most of the water has evaporated. He left his phone charger and case on the floor, though, so I give them back to my manager and she holds onto them. The customer comes back in and bolts for the bathroom.)

Me: “Sir, you can’t go back in there. You need to leave now.”

Customer: “Yeah, I just, uh, forgot something in the bathroom.”

Manager: *brings him his stuff* “You have to leave now, sir, or I’m calling the cops.”

Customer: *very panicked* “Okay, okay. I’m leaving.”

(I head back into the bathroom, and I don’t know how I missed it, but there is a little baggie on the floor with some paper folded up in it. I unwrap it, and there is a brownish powder in it. I take it to my manager.)

Me: “So… I found this in the bathroom. What is it?”

Manager: “Well, that explains a lot. It’s meth.”