(I work in a kitchen and bath showroom. Our computer systems are a bit old school but work fine. Because they are old, I have to manually enter cards. Most people aren’t fazed by this at all. Some people… don’t get it.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, that will be $160.45. You are putting half down for the deposit, so let’s do an even $80. Will that be check or card?”

Customer: “Card. But where do I swipe? All you have is the signature pad!”

Me: “I have to manually enter the card. Just hand it over.”

Customer: “I don’t understand. Do I swipe on the signature pad? I don’t see a spot…”

Me: “Hand the card to me. I have to type it into the system.” *gesturing towards the screen that is set up for entering cards*

Customer: “Is it a tap machine? My card doesn’t do the tap. I have to swipe it or use the chip.”

Me: “I enter it myself. I put the number in. I put all the information in. If you would hand me your card, I will type in the number, security code, zip, and your name. Once I enter it, I will charge your card.”

Customer: “Your coworker doesn’t have a machine, either. How do I pay?”

Me: “Hand me the card.”

(The customer finally hands me her card, and she seems baffled when I enter it and complete the payment.)

Customer: *trying to sign on the signature pad* “This isn’t working, either!”

Me: “Oh, the system doesn’t allow for signatures until the product arrives and the rest of the payment is received. Since we have to order and this was just a deposit, you don’t sign.”

Customer: “I don’t understand why it isn’t lighting up. Is it broken?”

Me: “You don’t have to sign. Not until your order gets here.”

Customer: “Where am I supposed to sign if your pad is broken?”

Me: “You don’t have to sign.”

Customer: “Oh. See you when my order gets here!”

(Yeah. Can’t wait.)

Customer: “Where are all your carts?”

Me: “They are right outside the door.”

(I walk the customer back the fifteen feet to a large line of carts parked directly outside the front entrance and grab one for him.)

Customer: “Ah. I came in the other entrance, so I didn’t see them.”

Me: “We only have one entrance.”

(I work for a high school whose soccer team is competing in a regional match. Earlier in the day, the athletic director came to me in a panic asking if I could take money at the entrance since there was no one else available. A few extra dollars never hurt, so I agree. I pull up to the field and start putting on the money belt.)

Athletic Director: “The way this works is that everyone, and I mean everyone, is $5.”

Me: “Including young children?”

Athletic Director: “Absolutely. They could have a baby that came out of the womb yesterday, $5. A guy in his 90s, $5. Students, whether they are ours or theirs, pay the same. The only exceptions are individuals on the pass list.”

Me: “Okay, so we are charging the same for anyone regardless of age, height, weight, race, sexual orientation, etc.”

Athletic Director: “Exactly.”

Me: “This is going to be interesting.”

(I station myself at the entrance to the park. The first car goes through with no issues. Car number two, however…)

Woman: “What is this?”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Woman: “What are you doing here?”

Me: “Oh, I’m the gatekeeper.”

Woman: “We have to pay to see our own kids play?!”

Me: “Yep. $5.”

Woman: “I’m out of here!” *starts backing out* “No wonder people are parking over there!”

(She points at a lot for an entirely different venue some distance away. I don’t have an opportunity to protest as she’s pulled far enough away and another car has come into the line. I handle a few more cars before she walks back up, now with a dog on a leash.)

Me: “It’s still $5.”

Woman: “FOR WHAT?!” *points to dog* “HIM?!”

Me: “No, you.”

Woman: “UGH!”

(She walks back to her car. A few more come through with no issues. Then, she’s back holding out a bill.)

Woman: “I am going to report you! You could have told me that before I went over there!”

(So, what was the implication here? That she didn’t know she would have to pay because this was the first game of her child’s she had ever been to, despite it being the end of the season, or that after already footing the bill towards a five-figures-a-year private school tuition, $5 was stretching it just a little too far? Anyway, the AD’s response to me telling him this event? “Seriously?!” Still waiting on that report!)

(I work at a small library that is located just down the street from the post office. My supervisor and I are the only ones working the front desk when a patron comes in. I get up to help her.)

Me: “Hi. Can I help you?”

Patron: “Yes, I need to change my address.”

(I can tell that English is not her first language. She does have a thick accent, but I can understand her well enough. I assume she just wants to change her address on her card account.)

Me: “Okay, you need to change your address? I will just have to see your library card or a photo ID to look up your account.”

(She hands me her ID and I look up her account, but I find out she does not have a library card with us.)

Me: “It does not look like you have a library card with us; are you a part of [Other Library down the road]?”

Patron: “No, I do not have a library card. I was just needing to change my address.”

(I’m now very confused, so I ask a couple of other questions that might apply to the situation.)

Me: “Well, then, were you needing to sign up for a library card?”

Patron: “No! I just need to change my address!”

(I am even more confused now, trying to figure out what she needs. I can tell that she is getting frustrated with the whole situation, as well. There is no librarian around and my supervisor is helping another patron.)

Patron: “Isn’t this the post office?”

Me: “No. This is the library.”

Patron: “Well, that is all I asked.” *walks away*

(I don’t know what just happened, so I look at my supervisor who heard the whole thing.)

Supervisor: “Yeah, I wasn’t sure what she needed, either. You seem to have things handled, though, so I didn’t want to intervene.”

Me: “Yeah, she never mentioned anything about a post office, but clearly we are one with all the books and the sign outside that says, ‘Library.’”

(I’m making keys next to an old-but-wise coworker. A short, middle-aged woman approaches me right in the middle of my key-cutting.)

Customer: “Excuse me…”

Me: *still making keys, hoping she’s talking to my coworker*

Customer: “Um, excuse me…”

Me: *turns to my right to see her, and smiles a bit, and silently motions toward the key machine and my coworker*

Customer: “Could you help me?”

(I shut off my machine, silently apologizing to the people whose keys I’m making. I don’t want key slivers in anyone’s mouths.)

Me: “Hi there.”

Customer: “I’m looking for caulking.”

Me: “Ah, it’s in aisle 82 on the left.” *turns the key machine back on and keeps grinding*

Customer: “Yes, thank you. I’m looking for the caulking, and I need to know which one to use for my windows.”

Me: *pauses, looking at her, and shuts off the machine again* “Yes, um, it’s in aisle 82, in the paint department. The guy behind the paint counter desk can help you.” *turns the key machine back on*

Customer: “Maybe he would know where it is?” *motions toward my coworker, who is quite swamped at the moment*

Me: *shuts off the key machine again* “Erm, no, he’s busy. Ask the guy behind the paint counter. He can definitely help you, and is quite experienced with caulking.” *turns the key machine on again*

Customer: “So, he would know?” *motions toward the same coworker to my right*

Me: “Paint counter guy.” *key machine still on*

Customer: *points toward my coworker, confused*

Me: *points in the opposite direction, toward the paint counter* “The guy behind the counter in that direction. The paint guy.”

Customer: “Maybe he’ll know?” *still talking about my poor swamped coworker*

Me: “No, m’dear, not him. He’s not the paint guy. He’s busy at the moment. Turn around, and walk into the middle of the store, and look to your left. You’ll see a guy behind the counter making paint.” *turns back to the keys, and silently wills an invisibility shield around myself*

Customer: *walking to my coworker* “Maybe you know. Where is the caulking, please?”

Coworker: *still helping a customer, ignoring her for a bit, though he raises a “one moment” finger to her*

Customer: “Where is the caulking, please?”

Coworker: *now done* “The associate behind the paint counter will help you. It’s his area of expertise.” *helps another customer*

Customer: *turns around looking like she just passed through someone and comes back to me* “Where is the caulking?”

Me: “Aisle 82.”

Customer: “So, aisle 79?”

Me: “Aisle 82.”

Customer: “So, it’s in the caulking area?”

Me: “The caulking area is in the paint area. Follow the signs, dear.”

Customer: “Where’s the paint area?”

Me: *points*

Customer: “But maybe he knows?”

Me: “I’m confused now.”

Customer: “Me, too. Maybe he knows where it is?”

Me: “But I know where it is.”

Customer: “But maybe he knows?”

Me: “Fine with me, hon.”

Customer: *asks [Coworker] again* “Where is caulking?”

Coworker: *wondering why he’s still here* “It’s in the paint area. Ask the man behind the paint counter. He’ll be glad to help you.”

Customer: *turns to me* “Can you show me where the caulking is?”

Me: “After I’m done making keys. I have quite the line. Maybe it might take less time to wander off into the middle of the store to find it on your own. I can’t leave until I’m done.”

Customer: “But why not?”

Me: “Because I have a line.”

Customer: “Okay, goodbye. Maybe he knows?” *points to [Coworker] again*

Me: “Didn’t you just ask him?”

Customer: “But he didn’t know.”

Me: “So, why are you asking him again? The paint counter guy knows.”

Customer: “So, maybe I should just ask him, right?”

Me: “Well, I’ve told you many times, but I don’t know if it’ll help to do it again, so yes, maybe he can lead you to it.”

Customer: “But I’m here now. Can’t you lead me?”

Me: *after my line is gone and I have no more customers* “That’s what I’m supposed to do, anyway. If you want, you can walk over to the paint counter and ask him where it is, though I can tell you right now that it’s in aisle 82.”

Customer: “But I don’t know where that is!”

Me: “The paint counter or aisle 82?”

Customer: “Anything!”

Me: “Yeah, this store is a bit of a maze.” *spits out a key sliver* “Bleh. That was awful. Go into the middle of the store, and look to the left. He’s right there.”

Customer: “Where?”

Me: “The middle of the store.”

Customer: “Where’s that? Maybe you know?” *walks to my coworker*

Me: “Where the middle of the store is?”

My Current Customer: “HOLY S***, LADY, FOLLOW ME!”

(My current customer takes her by the arm, leads her to the caulking, and comes back.)

Me: “I love you forever.”