A customer calls our clothing store.

Customer: “How much are your dresses?”

Me: “Can you be more specific about what you’re looking for? We have a large selection.”

Customer: “Just give me the range.”

Me: “Anywhere from $20 to $200.”

I work in a hotel. An older gentleman walks in wanting a room.

Customer: “Can I pay cash?”

Me: “Yes, but I still need a card for incidentals.”

He looks at me for a few minutes and asks again:

Customer: “But I just want to pay cash.”

Me: “That’s fine, but I need a card for ‘just in case’.”

Customer: “Do I look like a criminal?!”

Me: “No, sir, but it’s our policy.”

Customer: “What if I sign a piece of paper swearing an oath that I won’t steal or break anything?”

Me: “I’m afraid that wouldn’t work, sir.”

Customer: “This is America, and it’s a d*** shame you can’t use a g***d*** buck to buy a hotel room!” 

We didn’t get his business that night…

I have always been interested in electronics and did a lot of reading and studying on my own, and I was very good at buying things at swap meets and repairing them and reselling them as a teen. For my first real paying job, a friend of my mom knew a guy who ran a place that supplied answering machines to businesses. They were new tech back then. She said he was desperate for someone who could fix them as he had ones with issues spilling over the shelves, so I went to see him.

It was an interesting meeting — a middle-aged businessman and me. I was fifteen or so. We kind of eyed each other.

Owner: “Can you fix these machines?”

I was pretty sure I could, and when he pulled out the service manuals for them, he had a couple that were based on the same base, and I was quite sure.

Owner: “What do you want to be paid an hour?”

Me: “I get $3 an hour for watching the kid next door on occasion, so… $3 an hour?”

He pondered that for a minute and made me an offer I could not refuse: $10 cash for each one I fixed. I quickly agreed, and I agreed to stop by after school the next day with my tools to dig in.

The next day, I showed up, and he took me to the back. Sure enough, he had a couple of big sets of industrial shelves overflowing with the things. I started pulling them off and looking at them. He gave me a smile and drifted off and left me to it.

I quickly discovered this guy had no tech skills whatsoever. None. Nada. Most of them had a brainlessly simple problem. The outgoing message was kept on a big loose loop of tape with a metallic splice at the end/beginning that went past two posts; this told the thing the tape had gone all the way around and to stop and turn on the cassette recorder for the incoming message. The splices and the posts got dirty and did not make good contact, so the tape would just go on forever.

About three minutes with some alcohol and a Q-tip cleaning those parts as well as the other things in the tape path not only had them going again but sounding like new. I cleaned the front panels up with some spray cleaner and hit the wooden cases with some wood cleaner, and they would look like new. I spent more time carefully coiling up the power cords than repairing them, but when I was done, they looked and sounded like new.

The owner came back to check on me a couple of hours later.

Owner: “I just came to see if you’re going to be able to crank one out for me tonight.”

I pointed to a pile of five or so.

Me: “Check those out.”

His eyes just about popped out of his head.

I got nearly ten done a night for a while. It did slow down a bit once I got the easy ones knocked out, but I just kept picking the low-hanging fruit, learning more and more about them, and getting deeper and deeper into them. He also had units coming in all the time, so I did still have some easy ones mixed in with the bunch.

I thought he was going to soil himself when we settled up at the end of the first week; I had spent like three afternoons there and gotten nearly thirty of them fixed. It was a really good payday. He was not super happy with our agreement, but he had proposed it, and he had someone who was kicking a** getting them fixed, so he was cornered into honoring it. It was not lost on him that he could have been paying me like $12 a night and I would have been happy with that, but he thought he would get the better of me.

I work in a large paint store that sells one specific brand. A customer walks up to the customer service desk.

Customer: “I need another can of this paint.”

She presents a can of paint made by a different brand.

Me: “Ma’am, that can didn’t come from our store as we don’t sell that brand of paint, but I’ll be happy to match it to a similar type of paint.”

Customer: “No, I bought it here. Just make me another one just like this.”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t carry that brand. The sticker on top looks like it was purchased at [Home Improvement Chain].”

Customer: “I know I bought it here in this store. It was before you worked here.”

Me: “It says [Home Improvement Chain] on it, right here on the label.”

Customer: “Who’s in charge here? I need to speak to them.”

The manager comes over and explains politely that we don’t carry this specific brand of products, never have, and most likely never will.

Customer: “You’re lying to me! Go check the back, and you’ll find a can just like this.” 

We both go to the back and facepalm for a few seconds. Then, we go back and try to explain again that we don’t carry that brand. Finally, she gives up.

Customer: “Well, I still need to buy this brush.”

I ring it up, give her the total, and swipe her card.

The card is declined.

Me: “It looks like this card is expired; do you have the new card or another form of payment?”

At that point, she just flipped her lid. She turned to the manager, yelled at him that I wouldn’t accept her credit card and that she was going to get us both fired, threw the brush on the ground, and stormed off.

Caller: “I want to pre-order tickets.”

Me: “Ma’am, we can sell tickets in the theater or online, but we can’t do it over the phone. Can I direct you to our website? I can walk you through the process.”

Somehow, she doesn’t understand anything that I try to tell her, so I hand the phone off to my manager. Twenty minutes later, he finally gets off the phone with her.

Manager: “Instead of going to our website, she just kept typing the movie she wanted to see into Google. I finally got her to our website and walked her through how to order the tickets, but then she said she didn’t have a credit or debit card.”

Me: “So, how was she expecting to pay?”

Manager: “Cash.”

Me: “Over the phone?”

Manager: “Yup. When I tried to explain to her that she couldn’t pay for her online tickets with cash, she got angry and hung up.”

We have no idea if she ever made it to the movie or not.