(I work as a sales rep for a well-known catalogue company. The job involves posting out catalogues and collecting them along with any orders a few days later. The order forms have my contact details on and state which day I will be calling.)

Me: “Hi, I’m the local [Company] sales rep. I’m here to collect your catalogue.”

Woman: “I left it for you, and you didn’t collect it, and so I threw it in the bin, because you didn’t say when you were coming to get it, so it’s in the bin.”

Me: “I believe it said I would be collecting on Thursday.”

Woman: “Well, it didn’t! Look, I’ll show you!”

(She goes off to rummage in her bins and brings me back the catalogue and order form.)

Woman: “There, see?! It doesn’t say Thursday; it only says, ‘[My Name]’!”

Me: “It says it right there.”

(I point to where Thursday is ticked on the sheet.)

Woman: “Well, I didn’t read that!”

Me: “Okay, then. Bye.”

(She scampered away.)

Related:
A Catalog Of Errors, Part 6
A Catalog Of Errors, Part 5
A Catalog Of Errors, Part 4
A Catalog Of Errors, Part 3
A Catalog Of Errors, Part 2

(The entrance to our backroom is next to the wall of pre-packaged meats. Immediately next to the wall on the other side is the meat and seafood counter. During the afternoons and evenings, once everyone has clocked in for the day, one of the butchers will often come out to restock the wall and assist customers there while the other butchers assist customers at the counter. During the mornings, however, they mostly prepare the displays at the counter and get things ready for the day. It’s mid-morning and I just clocked in.

I come out of the backroom and see a customer staring at the wall. As I pass him, I greet him, like I’m trained to do.)

Customer: “You. I’ve been waiting for ten minutes for someone to come out and help me! Where are the meat guys?”

(I take three steps to the left and am now in front of the counter. Two of the butchers are back there working. They see me and wave.)

Me: “A customer out here has a question.”

(One of the butchers dropped what he was doing and came out to help. But the guy could clearly see the counter from where he was standing, so why he didn’t take a few steps over to see if anyone was back there is a mystery to me.)

(I’m the operations manager at a department store. In an effort to cut costs, we’ve been directed to remove our registers from some outlying departments. Since I’m one of the more technologically proficient people in my store, I’m unplugging things and getting them sorted out onto carts to be moved to the stockroom where they’ll be fully wiped of information before they’re sent back to a central hub. Thus far, I’ve detached the card readers and screens from both registers, they’re already on a cart behind me, and all the cash has been removed from the tills. A well-dressed, uppity-looking woman sets two boxes of shoes down in front of me.)

Me: “Good morning! If you’d like to purchase these they’ll be able to—”

Customer: “Of course I want to purchase them.”

Me: “Great. As I was saying, they’ll be able to help you in the jewelry department right over there.”

Customer: “Why would I walk all the way over there?”

(The jewelry department is perhaps 100 feet away, towards the entrance to the mall where I presume the woman came in. Our only other entrance is in the tool department, quite a bit further away.)

Me: “Well, if you came in by the tools, they’ll be able to check you out over there, as well.”

Customer: “Do I look like I came in by the tools? Ring me up for the shoes now. I hate waiting like this; it’s stupid.”

(I look down in front of me at the wires I’m clearly detaching from the CPU of the register and then back at the cart behind me that’s got the screens and card readers on it. I turn back to the customer.)

Me: “If it’s not incredibly obvious, these registers aren’t functional right now. You’ll need to go to a department with a functioning register to check out; there are people ready to take care of you at either entrance.”

Customer: “Well, if they aren’t functioning, fix them.”

(It’s been a long day already and I’m apparently over her.)

Me: “I’m sorry? I’m not going to reassemble a register, get a cash drawer for it, and reboot the whole thing so that you’re able to cash out here. Jewelry or tools, please.”

Customer: “I can wait here all day; you will serve me.”

Me: “I encourage you to hold your breath.”

(I worked there for four more years. I noticed that woman shopping several other times, and I never helped her. Serve yourself, you entitled witch.)

(I have had headaches all my life, but they suddenly become chronic, so I visit the doctor.)

Me: “I have a headache about five days of the week, and I have sleeping problems. I’m not sure which one is causing the other, though.”

(I proceed to give the doctor a list of things I’ve tried and checked, such as diet, climate, schedule, workout regimes, etc.)

Doctor: “I usually recommend a headache diary, but it seems you know pretty well what you’re doing. I suggest reading an hour before going to bed, instead of looking at a screen; that will help.”

Me: “No, that’s not it. I have gone screenless for three weeks but still had headaches. Also, reading before going to bed makes me have trouble falling asleep.”

Doctor: “Oh. Well, I still recommend reading an hour before bed instead of screen time.”

Me: “I am an avid reader, and I assure you that this is not the solution.”

(After going back and forth a few times…)

Doctor: “Well, I still recommend you try it.”

(She then proceeded to walk me to the door, indicating that the consultation was over. When I was back at home fuming, my husband suggested going to get my eyes checked. It turns out, I needed glasses! I could still see sharply, but the strain on my eyes caused the headaches. They were mostly strained by… reading. I’m glad I didn’t listen to the doctor, because more reading would have worsened the headaches. I have a new doctor now.)

(We’ve purchased an elliptical exercise machine to replace an old broken one. I am at the point in life where “delivery and setup,” even with a service charge, is a nice thing. The salesman pulls me aside.)

Salesman: “Uh, we’ve had some problems with this company. Expect a call from them within 24 hours to schedule a time. After that, they will call the day before delivery and cancel, typically rescheduling the delivery for the following week.”

Me: “Uh, okay.”

(I work from home, so while annoying, this isn’t inconvenient. Also, the neighborhood I live in is fairly new, with several houses still under construction. The back-and-forth between myself and the delivery company plays out pretty much like the salesman said, except I get a call on the rescheduled delivery day:)

Delivery Company: “We’re really backed up, so we’ve outsourced your delivery and setup to another company. They should be there today.”

Me: “Okay, thanks.”

(They show up as expected and do a great job setting up the new elliptical.)

Me: “Thanks, guys. Uh… how much to haul off the old elliptical?”

Delivery Guy: “Does it still work?”

Me: “No, the bearings are shot.”

Delivery Guy: “$20 okay?”

Me: “Sure!”

(I gave them $20 plus a nice tip. They hauled off the old elliptical and I was happy… until the next day, when I saw my old elliptical peeking out the top of a construction dumpster one street over.)