I’ve been a librarian for almost fifteen years and have had some very strange conversations, but this one is high up on the list.

Me: *Answering the phone* “Reference desk, this is [My Name]; how may I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, hi, did you hear about the murders in [My Town] last night?”

Me: “Yes, I did.”

Caller: “Was it close by? Near the library?”

Me: “Um, not too far away, but not super close. About three miles away.”

Caller: “Well, see, the reason I ask is that I live in [State on the other side of the country] and I was vacationing in [My Town] about ten years ago.”

Me: “Okay?”

Caller: “And I was out driving around and I saw this guy running, like, in a really weird way, you know? He was like all hunched over, almost double, and just running really crazy.”

Me: “Okay?”

Caller: “I think he’s one of the murder victims! Can you find out?”

Me: *Absolutely incredulous* “You want me to find out if some random person you saw running ten years ago was one of the people who was murdered last night?”

Caller: “Yeah!”

I reply as deadpan as I can muster.

Me: “Did you by chance get the man’s name? The man you saw running?”

Caller: “What? No, of course not! I just saw him; I didn’t talk to him.”

Me: “Well, okay, then. The coroner hasn’t released the murder victims’ names yet, anyway, pending notification of next of kin. Without knowing his name—”

Caller: “Oh, but do you think there’ll be pictures?”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Caller: “Pictures! When they release the victims’ names, do you think they’ll send out pictures to the media of what they looked like?”

I am seriously creeped out now.

Me: “Maybe? Why don’t you check back in a couple of days?”

Caller: *Very cheerfully* “I sure will! Thanks!”

He hung up, and so did I. My colleague on the desk heard my half of the call and wanted to know the whole story, so I told him.

Coworker: “Wait, what? Why would he think some guy he saw ten years ago is a murder victim?”

Me: “I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t want to know. I’m taking a break.”

So. Weird.

I work in a restaurant. Restrictions for social distancing have slowly started lifting and, as a result, we’re allowed to have up to ten people dining in. The phone rings and I answer it.

Me: “Hi, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’d like to make a reservation, please.”

Me: “Certainly, for how many people?”

Customer: “Twelve.”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, but due to current government restrictions, we’re allowed no more than ten people dining in at any time.”

Customer: “Look, just let us in. It’ll be fine; it’s not like you’ll be caught by the cops.”

Me: “Sir, we have police officers come in quite regularly, and even if we didn’t, we still aren’t allowed more than ten people as per government restrictions.”

Customer: “Nah, it’s fine. We’ll just come and eat in; the fine is basically pocket change, anyway.”

Me: “Sir, the fine is $1600 and we aren’t going to break the rules just so you can eat out.”

Customer: “Look. Just put the reservation down for ten, and when we turn up, just tack two extra chairs on. It’ll be fine.”

Me: “Sorry I couldn’t help you today, sir.”

I hung up on him.

I work in a library. One of our regular patrons, an older woman who comes in frequently to check out movies, comes in with a man I’ve never seen before. They select several DVDs and bring them to the desk to check out.

Me: “Oh, you’ve got four new releases here; the limit on those is three at a time. You’ll need to pick one to put back.”

Woman: “Oops!” *To the man* “Okay, which of these do you want to see more?”

Man: “I don’t want to see any of ’em!”

Woman: “Well, what kind of movies do you like, anyway?”

Man: “Sex movies!” *To me* “What kind of sex movies you got around here?”

Me: *Speechless*

I am an assistant manager at a large national drugstore chain. One afternoon, I’m called to the register to help a customer. The clerk flashes me one of those “kill me now” looks as I approach.

Me: “Hi! How can I help you today?”

Customer: “I’m looking for Wintergreen Altoids gum, but your clerk said you don’t have any. Can you order some for me?”

Me: “Hmm, let me take a look.”

I don’t recall ever seeing that flavor, but I go digging around in our inventory database anyway. Sure enough, there’s no record of it.

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but it doesn’t look like we carry that flavor.”

Customer: “I know I’ve bought it here before!”

Me: “Huh. It doesn’t look like something that’s been discontinued. I’m just not seeing it here at all.”

Customer: *Indignant* “Can’t you just call them and get some?”

Me: “Well, no, unfortunately. Since all of our purchasing goes through a central facility, we don’t deal with the manufacturers directly. If our distribution center doesn’t carry a product, I have no way to order it.”

Customer: “Well!” *Huffs* “I didn’t realize I was living in Soviet Russia!”

Without another word, the customer turned on her heel and stomped out the front door. My clerk and I were speechless.

A car pulls up in the drive-thru lane.

Customer: “Why do you not have ice cream?!”

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, our machine is currently broken. We are waiting for a delivery for a new part, so until then, we are unable to fix it.”

Customer: “What are you going to do about it? I want ice cream!”

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, there isn’t anything we can do until we get the part. There are two other [Restaurant]s in our town; they should have ice cream.”

Customer: “That’s not good enough!”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, sir, but there isn’t anything I can do other than send you to one of our other restaurants.”

Customer: “NOT GOOD ENOUGH! GET ME WHAT I WANT!”

Coworker: “Unfortunately, sir, I can’t. The other restaurants will have ice cream.”

Customer: “F*** YOUR OTHER RESTAURANTS! I WANT IT FROM HERE!”

Coworker: “Sir, I can’t sell you [product] while the machine is broken.”

Customer: “NOT GOOD ENOUGH! F*** THIS!”

The customer sped off out the drive-thru lane. Luckily, there wasn’t a car in front of him.

Related:
Literally Scream For Ice Cream, Part 4
Literally Scream For Ice Cream, Part 3
Literally Scream For Ice Cream, Part 2
Literally Scream For Ice Cream