(As a receptionist for a local government office, I get a wide variety of people in. I do my best to treat them all with respect, though sometimes it’s not easy. A man comes in who wants to know about funding for local buses. I show him the information, and he notices the funding is separate for regular school buses and for those that transport kids with special physical needs.)

Customer: “Uh… Ah, yes, those buses are for underprivileged kids.”

Me: “Yes, well, they’re for kids, like in wheelchairs. They need ramps and stuff like that.”

Customer: * gives me the most withering, pitying look I’ve ever received* “That’s what ‘underprivileged’ means, dear.”

(I didn’t have the heart to correct him. He was so sure.)

(I work as a receptionist at a city hall. We only take 30 numbers of applicants who are submitting their documents for passports. We are open from 8:30 to 3:30 and typically run out of numbers before 12:00 pm. When we do we put up our “NO MORE PASSPORTS” sign. It’s 1:00 pm when this lady and her daughter run in.)

Mom: *as she is reading the sign* “Hi, I would like to get passports.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we are currently not taking any applicants today; we’ve already reached the 30 applicants we can process for the day. If you like, I can give you alternative locations, or you can come back next week.”

Mom: *starts breathing heavily and looks like she just ran a mile* “Oh, my God. My husband is in the hospital because he just had a heart attack and I just took my daughter out of school.” *which is what almost every parent says when I tell them no* “Can’t you squeeze us in?

Me: “No, I’m sorry. We’ve already reached our maximum, but I can give you a list of other locations that can help you today.”

Mom: “Oh, my God, are you serious? I’m about to vomit right now. I can’t go to [Location #1] or [Location #2]. They are too far.”

(She is looking at the list and pointing and asking about locations that are 20 minutes further than the locations I suggested.)

Mom: “So, what location can I go to?”

Me: “[Location #3] or [Location #4] are the closest walk-ins.”

Mom: “No, I can’t do that.” *starts to walk away with her daughter*

Me: “I’m so sorry.”

Mom: *to her daughter, mumbling* “Sure, you’re sorry, blah blah blah.”

(All I could think of was, “Wow, your husband is having or had a heart attack, and you are here instead of with him. He could die right now, and you are being a snob because you think I’M a horrible person for doing my job. Okay, lady, you need to check your priorities.)

(I work for a federal agency that takes phone calls from people all over the USA who need assistance in applying for passports.)

Customer: “Hello, I would like to make an appointment to come to the Los Angeles passport office to get a passport.”

Me: “Certainly. Where are you planning to travel?”

Customer: “Oh, I am traveling all over. To China, to Japan, then to Indonesia!”

Me: “Great. Okay, I am sorry but right now I can’t get you an appointment at the Los Angeles office. However, I can make an appointment for you at the San Diego office.”

(San Diego is about a two-hour drive from Los Angeles, and in the same state, California.)

Customer: “What? San Diego? No way am I going there! That’s too far away!”

(I work in a call center environment. We sit in cubes and I can hear everything around me, much to my coworkers’ dismay; I can catch them saying some pretty funny things, either to themselves or to clients. My coworker is trying to phonetically spell something over the phone to a client.)

Coworker: “That is C, like ‘cat,’ A, like ‘apple,’ N, like ‘knife’…”

Me: “That’s not how this works.”

Coworker: “Shut up with your bat hearing.”

(I am the supervisor of an employment resource office, in a small non-profit agency which helps largely indigent and homeless people. This particular client is not the worst I’ve had, but he’s definitely one of the weirdest. He comes in occasionally to utilize the computers and fax machine, have us mail things for him, and apply for jobs, and he almost always says something bizarre.)

Me: “Hi, [Client]. How are you doing today?”

Client: *signing in* “Are you German?”

Me: “Uh, yes, why?”

Client: “I just think it’s funny. [My Name] is a very German name.”

(I get this comment a lot.)

Me: “Oh, it’s actually traditionally an English name! And mine is short for Fitzwilliam, which is Mr. Darcy’s first name in Pride and Prejudice. I am German, though.”

Client: “It’s a very German name.”

Me: “It’s not, though; it’s English. I mean, I guess I can see how—”

Client: *irritated* “No, it’s a German name!“

Me: *giving up* “If you say so.”

(After a few minutes of silence.)

Client: *seriously* “Your people were treated very poorly by the Treaty of Versailles.”

Me: “Uh… I wasn’t there, but I guess that’s true.”

(He resumes his job search in silence for the next twenty minutes or so. As he is getting ready to leave, I look up to find him staring at me intensely.)

Client: “Have you been through your gothic stage yet?”

Me: “My what?”

Client: “Your goth stage.”

Me: *caught completely off guard* “I guess… I was kind of a goth in high school, maybe? Why?”

Client: *laughing* “Of course you were. I knew it; I can just tell that about you. Well, have a good day.” *leaves*

(Thanks for the uncomfortable half-hour! I’m already dreading the next time he comes in.)