My father has a small plot of land in the countryside where he has planted some olive trees and, along its borders, fruit trees. We usually go there at least three times a week to do some work between Spring and Autumn. When it’s fruit season, the trees don’t really wait nicely to let all their load ripen, so picking the fruit is quite a task. 

One fine day, we parked our car at the far end of the plot and were walking to the other end when we saw a person with a large bag, busy picking fruit and shoving them in a wooden crate. 

Now, my father and all the farmers around have no problems with someone picking some fruit and eating it on the spot: “Eat as much as you want but take nothing home” is what they say. This guy, however, is stuffing a whole crate with what looks like at least 5 kg of fruit. 

Since we are walking, the intruder thinks we are also wanderers like him, and doesn’t stop picking fruit.

Father: “Good afternoon, lovely day, isn’t it?”

Intruder: “Good afternoon, as lovely as it can get!”

Father: “Are these your trees? They bear a wonderful load!”

Intruder: “No, they’re not mine. I’m just picking some fruits after the owner told me I could.”

Father: “Really? Who’s the owner? I would love to ask his permission too; these fruits are mouthwatering.”

Intruder: “Sure, the owner is [Father’s Name].”

Father: “Oh, really? And when did I give you permission to pick my fruits?”

The intruder realises he has royally screwed up, throws his hands in the air, leaves the full crate under the tree, and runs away.

Father starts laughing and tells me:

Father: “Look, some good fairy picked some fruits for us. We can do something else today!”

I work in a huge farming supply complex, and that includes an outdoor department selling tractors.

A customer has just completed the paperwork to buy one of our models on the lot. As I’m walking him to his car, congratulating him on his purchase and asking him if he’s looking forward to the delivery, we hear some distant thunder.

Customer: “You’d better wrap up the tractor in case it rains.”

I laugh at the ‘joke’.

Customer: “Why are you laughing? I don’t want my brand-new tractor getting damaged.”

Me: “From rain?”

Customer: “From the elements!”

Me: “It’s been outside on this lot for a few months, sir.”

Customer: “Yes, but now I own it. Shrink wrap it so it won’t get damaged by the rain.”

I was tempted to ask him where his farm is. I’d love to visit an entirely indoor field!

As a Caribbean lad living in a cold and damp European country, I seek out nostalgic food whenever I can.

About two weeks ago, I found a website that lets you order from farmers directly, and they had some goat farms.

One farm in particular looked good, so I briskly ordered.

The same day, the farmer emailed me to say that he could not fulfil the order exactly, but if I ordered directly through email, he could get close. 

So, we do that. He would arrange for the website to refund me and send me a payment request.

A few days with no word, I emailed the farmer. 

He apologises; the website didn’t let him refund the order, but he promised to mail out the items in the meantime. 

Another day goes by, and I get a track & trace email telling me my order is underway, and an email from the farmer to double-check. All is good in the world.

On the day of delivery, we anxiously wait for the delivery. We check the shipping company website and see the virtual delivery van get closer and closer and…

Shipping Company Website: “You weren’t home, we will try again.”

And five minutes later:

Shipping Company Website: “You weren’t home, so we’ll deliver at a collection point.”

Obviously, we never saw a van. I try contacting customer support. Once I get a human in chat, I explain that the driver just skipped us and clearly lied that they tried to deliver.

The rep lets us know it’s underway to a collection point. This we already knew.

I explain these are perishable items, but all the agent can tell us is that we’ll receive a code for the collection box.

Meanwhile, my girlfriend goes back and forth to the collection point in hopes of intercepting the delivery, because when I say ‘perishable’, I mean ‘very perishable’.

The day passes, and the next day the shipping site tells us the virtual Christmas sled (their idea of being festive, I guess) is underway.

We wait for an indication that it was delivered at the collection point and a code to collect it.

Nothing.

We go into chat with customer service again, who can do nothing but tell us we’ll get a code. 

Eventually, my girlfriend goes to the collection point again, and lo, the lady at the counter flags her, hands her our package, and says:

Counter Lady: “No way I was letting this sit in my shop over the weekend, so I intercepted it.”

Once home, we saw why the lady was so adamant.

The way the farmer had fixed the order was to ship us the goat meat in the form of a whole leg.

The farmer sent another e-mail to inquire, and since the website still didn’t process the return, he let the €10 difference slide.

Great service, bad service, and slightly weirded-out service, in one order.

I am a sixty-five-year-old woman, assistant manager at a farm store. Today, it’s just a cashier and me working. 

I am pulling a huge skid of horse feed to the floor from the back room. A customer comes up to me:

Customer: “I need help in your boot department.”

Me: “I will be right there, sir, after I’ve parked this skid.”

Customer: *Huffs.* “I want help now!”

I pull the brake on the very heavy skid and drop it like a hot rock.

Me: *Smiling.* “I will be happy to help you.”

We walk to the boots section when he turns and says:

Customer: “Are these the only boots you have?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: *Huffs.* “Fine!”

Me: “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Customer: “No. Just go away.”

I go back to the skid and continue to pull it.

A few minutes later, the cashier comes over the PA and says:

Cashier: “Customer needs assistance in Boots, please.”

So, off I go again: same man. He’s not happy to see me again.

Customer: “Are you sure this is all the boots?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Is there a man I can talk to?”

Me: *With a completely straight face.* “I used to be one, does that help?”

His eyes bug out, and he leaves the store.

I’ve never been a man. My boss laughed his head off when he came in, then said, “Don’t do that again.”

CORRECTION: A spelling error has been corrected.

Customer: “Are these potatoes fresh?”

Me: “About as fresh as it gets.”

Customer: “That doesn’t tell me anything!”

Me: “They were pulled fresh out of the ground yesterday, ma’am.”

Customer: “So they were in the dirt?”

Me: “That’s pretty much where all potatoes come from, ma’am.”

Customer: “Do you have any that grow in the air cleanly, like on trees?”

Me: “If there are potatoes that grow like that, then we don’t have those here.”

Customer: “Hmm, fine. How long were they in the dirt?”

Me: “If you mean how long they were growing before we harvested them, these types of potatoes take about four months.”

Customer: *Aghast.* “These were in the ground for four months, and you call them fresh! What kind of sucker do you think I am! Just because I’m not from a farm, you think I don’t know how to tell something is fresh! Disgusting!”

The customer storms off… probably to look for a potato tree that can grow full-sized potatoes in a day or two…