(I work as a delivery driver for a national pizza chain. The store hours have just ended — it was a Saturday and we close at two am on those nights). Just as I am getting ready to head out on the last delivery of the night, the phone rings.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]; I am sorry; we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “Hi, I would like to order delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but our ovens are off and we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “But I called earlier and was put on hold and no one got back to me. Why didn’t you just say you were closed then?”

Me: “I’m sorry about that, ma’am. Could you tell me when you originally called?”

Customer: “I don’t know, about an hour ago.”

(We hadn’t had any calls except for the delivery I was getting ready to take in the past hour.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we haven’t had any calls in the past hour that we have had to put on hold.”

Customer: “Fine, b****.”

(The customer hangs up and I am about to leave again, and the phone rings. Different number, with a different person speaking, but I can hear the same person in the background.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]! I am sorry; we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “Yeah, I want delivery.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we are closed for the night.”

Customer: “But I was on hold forever and just finally called back. I want food!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we are closed.”

Customer: “I was on hold forever and no one came back and now you tell me you are closed? Why can’t you give me pizza?”

Me: “Sir, the ovens are turned off. We are closed. The other location in town is still open, but they will not deliver to this part of town.”

Customer: “You are no help. F*** you.”

Me: “Well, then… sorry you are a dumb-a**.”

Caller: “Is eight digits okay for my password?”

Me: “Yes, it only has to be six.”

Caller: “Is nine okay?”

Me: “Yes… It only has to be six.”

Caller: “Okay, I used all caps; is that okay?”

Me: “No, there needs to be at least one lower case, and one upper case.”

Caller: “Okay… I used all lowercase. That’s all right, then?”

Me: “No… There needs to be at least one lowercase and at least one uppercase letter.”

Caller: “Okay, but is all lowercase okay?”

Me: “Sir, no… Would you like me to just have a form mailed out to you?”

(I work as a mobile pet groomer. A client leaves this message on the phone on a Tuesday.)

Client: “Hi, I’m new and from [City]. I have a Schnauzer and a Shih-Tzu that need grooming; it’s been a while. I’m not working this summer and am very open for times, so your soonest available appointment.”

Me: *calling back that afternoon* “Hi, I’m just getting back to you after you left us a message. We do have an opening due to a cancellation this Friday afternoon.”

Client: “Oh, yeah, Friday isn’t good for me. Do you have anything sooner, even if it’s just one dog?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but this Friday is the soonest opening, and the next is in July.”

(July is over two weeks away.)

Client: “Well, that’s too far out! I’ll just have to get him groomed somewhere else; I need this week, but not Friday, or this weekend, but not tomorrow. Bye.”

(She wanted in right away — which rarely happens for mobile grooming — and she wasn’t really free, and it was not even really summer yet… She never asked the prices, either.)

(I am an election judge during our state primaries. The polling place where I am working is in a basketball court in a local school. At one point a bunch of guys, probably in their late teens or early twenties, come in through the school-side doors, dressed up in gym wear and holding a couple basketballs.)

Guy: “So, how long are you guys going to be?”

Head Judge: “We’re here all day.”

Guy: “Well, we want to play here. Can you do this somewhere else?”

Head Judge: “Um… No.”

Guy: “Yeah… We’ll be talking to the superintendent about this. So, you should you start packing up and look for another spot!”

(As the group of players heads out:)

Head Judge: “I suppose I should put that in the incident log.”

(Those boys were never heard from again.)

(It’s truck day, and my coworker and I are opening our freight in the stock room with no help until other coworkers show up in maybe an hour. For several reasons, our boss has decided that today, he is going to make us lunch. He is in and out of the building checking on people before he begins grilling out back. My coworker and I are opening boxes, etc. I go over to put an empty box where it belongs and as I stand back up, I hit my head on something in one of my coworker’s carts.)

Me: “Ow!”

Coworker: “Are you okay?”

Me: “I think so. Am I bleeding?”

(This would not be the first time I’ve caused myself an injury at work, and my coworkers know I’m slightly accident-prone.)

Coworker: “We need to put you in a bubble!”

(I show her where I got bumped, and she determines that I’m not bleeding, so I go back to boxes.)

Coworker: “Hey, it’s been a while. Did [Manager] forget that he was going to go get you a garbage bin?”

(My coworker has more boxes and garbage than I do, so she uses two garbage bins, while I have been just grabbing a roll and tying bags to things for my styrofoam, etc.)

Me: “He must have.”

(I walk over to the supply area and grab myself a garbage bag, as our boss has obviously forgotten his search for a bin for me. He walks in a moment later, empty-handed.)

Coworker: “Yep, he forgot.”

Manager: “What? What did I forget?”

(He sees me holding a garbage bag and immediately turns back around to go find me an extra garbage bin. I’m used to being forgotten and kept out of the loop, and [Boss] has other things on his mind, so I’m not really surprised that he forgot. He comments on the size of the garbage bag I’ve grabbed myself and I tell him I was just grabbing something to start throwing my garbage in since he forgot about me.)

Me: “[Coworker], I need a bubble and, like, a bell!”

(Other coworkers have commented on how quiet I am and how often they tend to almost run into me because they can’t see or hear me coming around corners, etc. I really do think I need a bell or something.)