A woman walks up to the counter with an old picture showing a group of people.

Customer: “I need you to take everyone except me out of this picture.”

Me: “You mean digitally remove them? Ma’am, I don’t think that’s possible with a picture like this. We’d have to remove nearly all of the photo.”

Customer: “But… Photoshop?”

Me: “I’m sure someone with a lot of time and talent could give it a go, but we’re a humble photo lab. We can do basic manipulation but nothing like what you’re asking.”

Customer: “But… this is a photo… shop?”

Me: “Well, yes. But we can’t do—”

Customer: “Adobe?”

Me: “Well, that’s the company that—”

Customer: “Microsoft?”

Me: “… Ma’am. Are you just saying computer words hoping it will work?”

Customer: “…”

Me: “…”

Customer: “Excel Photoshop?”

Me: “…okay, I don’t think we can help you, ma’am.”

I work at a little shop located inside a hospital. We sell cold sandwiches.

Customer: “I’d like this sandwich heated, please.”

Me: “I’m afraid we only sell cold sandwiches.”

Customer: “But… I’m a doctor.”

Me: “Okay? We don’t have any means to heat sandwiches in this shop.”

Customer: *Slightly different tone* “But… I’m a doctor…”

Me: “Be that as it may, we don’t have a microwave or an oven.”

Customer: *Yet another slightly different tone* “But I’m… a doctor.”

Me: “So… just the sandwich, then?”

The customer blankly scans his card on the reader and walks out of the store, looking dazed and confused.

Customer: “But… I’m… a doctor?”

My dad used to own his own company that unfortunately went under and vanished due to the UK recession in the mid- to late 2000s. He was a joiner and knows the trade inside and out. He has told me a few stories.

My dad and his team had a contract to do some work on someone’s kitchen — a very simple job for my dad. But there was an antagonist: the neighbor.

It was 10:00 am. The neighbour opened her window and shouted to my dad:

Neighbour: “I am back from the night shift and I have another tonight. You need to keep it down!”

Dad: “I do apologize, but we are currently within trading hours and I have a job to do.”

The neighbour just scoffed and walked away. Roughly twenty minutes later, she came back.

Neighbour: “I told you to keep it down. I have the night shift!”

Dad: “As I have already stated, it is trading hours, and we have a job to do.”

The neighbour came out of her house and walked up to my dad.

Neighbour: “I want your boss’s phone number.”

Now, bear in mind that this was my dad’s company. He owned it. He was the boss. But instead of playing the “I am the boss” card, he complied and gave the neighbour his business card with his work mobile number on it.

My dad thought she was bluffing. He then got a call less than ten minutes later and he answered. It was the neighbour.

Neighbour: “I would like to make a complaint. You have workers here and they are making too much noise. I have the night shift tonight and need some sleep. Also, one of them was extremely rude to me and needs to be dealt with.”

Dad: “As I have told you twice already, through your window, it is trading hours, we have a job to do, and furthermore, your nightshift is of no concern to me or my team.”

The neighbour just swore at my dad and hung up, and my dad was able to finish the work he was given. He told me that he was expecting the neighbour to come out and punch him in the face, but that never happened.

In my late teens, I took a job as a cook at a restaurant. On my first day, I worked alone with another new gentleman. One of the managers showed us how to cook, plate, and prepare a few things.

Manager: “I won’t be in tomorrow. The other manager will be here, but they will be in the office all day and you are not to disturb them. If you need help, you are to refer to the recipe book.”

Both of us were still pretty clueless about how to do most anything as it was only the second day for both of us. Needless to say, I wasn’t back for a third.

I work for a thrift store. A lady comes up with her litterbox, still full of used cat sand.

Me: “I’m sorry, but we can’t take items that have been exposed to feces or urine.”

Customer: “Oh. I can go dump the sand out at the edge of the parking lot and bring it back.”

Me: “It has already been exposed to the waste, so we still can’t take it.”

Customer: “But you have to take it! I’m going to a care facility and can’t take it with me.”

Me: “No, we don’t have to. We aren’t responsible for your trash.”

She drove off pissed.