I do woodworking and sell some of my work online. I got this message.

Buyer: “Hey, I saw that shelf on your [Business] page. I am into that rustic style. Is that for sale?”

Me: “No, sorry, that was built for me, but I am always willing to make something if someone is interested.”

Buyer: “That would be awesome! How long would it take?”

Me: “Not sure. I am scheduled to do overtime for a bit, so it will be hard to get to, but it only took a weekend to do that one.”

Buyer: “No rush, just curious. So, about a price?”

Me: “Material prices are high right now, so we’re looking at about $380 for just the wood if you want it built exactly the same as the one I have. Mine is like four feet tall and six feet long.”

Buyer: “Really? $380?”

Me: “I just price wood from [Home Improvement Store #1] or [Home Improvement Store #2]. The $380 doesn’t include stain, nails, screws, etc. The things needed for assembly would be extra.”

Buyer: “Really, extra on top of the $380? Don’t you already have that stuff for assembly?”

Me: “I do but I can’t just give it away. That stuff costs me money. There would also be a cost for me assembling the shelf.”

Buyer: “You’re trying to rip me off.”

Me: “No, I am not. You contacted me about a shelf.”

Buyer: “So how much?”

Me: “$380 for wood, about 25% more for assembly materials, plus a fee to assemble it.”

Buyer: “Okay, so what does all that add up to?”

Me: “I’m going to guess $650ish.”

Buyer: “No way. I can get someone else to do it cheaper.”

Me: “Okay, well, get someone else to do it cheaper.”

Buyer: “Why so much?”

Me: “I already explained why. I will also only deliver as far as [Town #1] before it will start to cost more.”

Buyer: “I’m in [Town #2].”

Me: “I know that but I’m not burning up a bunch of gas to deliver this.”

Buyer: “I see people advertising stuff on [Website] all the time cheaper than this.”

Me: “Maybe they don’t get their materials the same place I do. I don’t know how people price their stuff. But again, you contacted me. If you don’t want to do business, that’s cool with me.”

Buyer: “I think you’re a ripoff.”

Me: “That’s your opinion. Have a good day.”

Buyer: “That’s it? You’re done?”

Me: “I’m done. I’m out. I do this as a hobby and make a little money from it. I don’t want a hassle from it.”

Buyer: “It’s just that the cost is too high.”

Me: “It’s cool. Find someone else to build it. Even send them pics of mine if you like.”

Buyer: “How much for the waving flag?”

Me: “$100.”

Buyer: “For just a flag?”

Me: “There is a lot of work that goes into those, and again, the price of wood isn’t cheap.”

Buyer: “Whatever. $400.”

Me: “$400?”

Buyer: “The shelf. I’ll give you $400.”

Me: “I can do a smaller, cheaper version, but not $400. That would be basically doing it for cost or possibly even losing money.”

Buyer: “It’s a gift, though.”

Me: “I’m not in a gift-giving mood.”

Buyer: “You’re an a**.”

Me: “Have a good day.”

Years and years ago, I worked for a little shop in a city about thirty minutes from where I lived, which was in a little town way off the beaten path. Every payday, I would use the drive-thru bank in the city where I worked and then head home to avoid rush hour, which would add at least another thirty minutes to my drive. Once I got home, I would update my checkbook with my salary and do my budget.

One time, after making my deposit in the city, I could not find the deposit amount on my banking deposit receipt. The space where my deposit amount usually appeared just had my nine-digit checking account number instead, although, for some reason, it had a decimal point in the number.

I finally decided to call the branch where I had made my deposit to find out what my deposit amount had been.  

Me: “I’m calling because I just made a deposit and I can’t seem to find the amount on my deposit receipt. Can you tell me how much I deposited today?”

Teller: “Yes, ma’am, let me check for you. Here it is, your last deposit was nine million, eight hundred seventy-six thousand, five hundred forty-three dollars, and twenty-one cents.”

Me: *Stunned silence* “Ummm, that’s not right; that’s actually my account number. My deposit should have been around three hundred dollars. My deposits are never more than four hundred dollars.”

Teller: “If you are disputing the deposit amount, then you will need to come back to the branch to talk to a manager.”

Me: “You mean you guys made a mistake and gave me almost ten million dollars, but I need to drive back into the city during rush hour to get it fixed? I’m not doing that; you should be able to do something on your end.”

Teller: “I’m sorry, ma’am. All account disputes need to be handled in person at the branch.”

Me: “Yeah, I’m not doing that. Goodbye.”

Teller: “Thank you for calling [Bank]. You have a good day now!”

After hanging up, I debate for a while about how to find out what countries don’t have extradition agreements with the USA and wonder if my husband would be willing to move. I finally decide that, instead of emptying out my account and fleeing the country, I should probably take care of this now. I go to the tiny little branch located in my nearby town center.

Since I know the manager a little bit, I ask for her. She comes out and I ask her to take a look at my deposit slip, and when she does, her eyes just about pop out of her head.

Manager: “I don’t understand. Did you really just deposit nine million, eight hundred seventy-six thousand, five hundred forty-three dollars, and twenty-one cents? This can’t be right; a deposit of that amount requires [special forms and signatures].”

Me: “It isn’t right. I deposited around three hundred dollars. That figure is my account number.”

She begins to stammer a little out of shock.

Manager: “I-I-I don’t understand. H-how did this happen? A regular teller shouldn’t even be able to enter that much into the system; it requires overrides and double-entries. What’s going on? How could this happen?”

Me: “I have no idea.”

I then relate the entire series of events, including the telephone call.

Manager: *Apoplectic* “THEY WANTED YOU TO DRIVE BACK TO FIX THEIR NINE-MILLION-DOLLAR MISTAKE?! Hang on a minute. I’ll take care of this right now.”

She’s gone for a while and when she comes back, she bends over backward to apologize for the error, the inconvenience, the lack of customer service, etc.

Me: “You don’t need to apologize; it wasn’t your fault, I just appreciate that you were willing to help me and take care of this.”

Manager: “Yes, I’m sorry. Customer service is addressing how that call was handled right now. Again, I am so sorry, and we really, really, really appreciate your honesty in bringing this to our attention. We still don’t know how this happened, but obviously, we have an issue in our system; the checks and balances that are supposed to be in place didn’t work. Again, thank you for being so honest, and here’s your corrected deposit receipt.”

She walked me to the door and I merrily went on my way, nine million dollars poorer. The good news was that having nine million dollars in my account for a little while made my average daily balance go up high enough that I didn’t have to pay any checking fees that month!

I was listening to Boston as I pulled up to a house to make a pizza delivery. The customer was an old dude who told me he liked my taste in music. He handed me $20 for a tip.

Me: “Man, are you sure? You just made my night!”

Customer: “Here, let me really make it.

And he gave me another $20!

So, advice for other drivers: listen to mainstream classic rock and old people will probably tip better and like you better. I had another guy comment about me playing RUSH and I got like $8 from him.

I work at a fast food chain based around sandwiches, with food that is rather on the expensive side; a medium sandwich is about seven or eight dollars, and that’s without drinks and chips. About fifteen minutes before closing, a woman and her children walk in and rush to the counter. I am sweeping and have a few separate piles of dirt and old lettuce on the ground, because the church crowds are no joke. I walk up to the counter and begin to ring up the woman’s meal. She orders three sandwiches and three combos for a total of $35.07. I ask for her name.

Woman: *Sarcastically* “Aren’t you a little salesman?”

Me: *Politely* “Excuse me?”

Woman: “The chili is more expensive with the combo compared to regular. I think that you should change that, so people don’t get confused. I would like to see my receipt, please.”

I know this is going to be trouble, so I print the receipt and she snatches it out of my hand and throws on her glasses.

Woman: “Yes, you charged me too much for this chili combo, young man. Do you know how frustrating this is to the public?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t make the prices, you know? I just work the cash register.”

Woman: “Well, I want you to refund my purchase. I believe I’m entitled to this food now.”

When she says, “entitled,” I just kind of look at her in shock. It is not my fault I sold you something that costs more to make due to labor and ingredient costs. Regardless, I go to administer a refund, but she stops me.

Woman: “Know what? No. I’ll keep the chili. It’s fine. You’ve already rung me up for it, so it doesn’t matter.”

Me: “Of course, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

I stepped away from the counter to finish sweeping, and then I heard a thud from the far side of the restaurant. When I wasn’t looking, the woman took my mop bucket and “accidentally” tipped it over onto one of my larger piles of dirt.

By this point, my manager had had enough and decided to kick her out of the store after she cleaned up her mess, and he demanded that she issue an apology to me. She screamed at him and tried to leave, but the manager is a muscular man, so he stopped her with ease and called the police.

The police showed up a few minutes later and escorted her out of the store. I don’t know what happened after she got kicked out; all I know is that I had lots of mopping to do.

I’m selling a computer on a buy/sell app. I get an automated message containing the buyer’s offer.

Buyer: “I would like to buy your 12 Core Mac Pro, 48GB RAM for $125.00.”

Me: “LOL. NO.”

The buyer sends a shrugging emoji.

Buyer: “It’s outdated. If you change your mind, let me know.”

Me: “Maybe for a 1,1/2,1. Not a 4,1/5,1.”

Buyer: “How much would you really take?”

Me: “$500. Go find another dual CPU model for less.”

Buyer: “Stop it. Give me a realistic number that you would actually take.”

Me: “$500, dude. There isn’t another dual CPU 4,1/5,1 for less than $800 on the market. It’s priced low to move quickly.”

Buyer: “I’m trying to work with you here. I’ll do $300.”

Me: “Lol, no, you’re not. Do some research. Let me know when your budget increases.”

Buyer: “Yes, I am. We’re at a $200 difference. You can work with it.”

Me: “I take a $200 loss because some dude on [App] can’t increase his budget? I’ll make you a deal. You find another dual CPU 4,1/5,1 for $300 and I’ll consider it.”

Buyer: “It’s not a loss. You’re already selling it for less than market. I need you to decrease your budget. I have cash ready. Life is all about negotiations. It’s not a defeat on your side if you accept less than what you posted for.”

Me: “Yup, $500 is less than market, but it’s as low as I’m willing to go. I could ask even more for it, but I want it gone sooner. If you think you’re the only interested party, you’re mistaken, buddy. Go find $200 more and we will talk.”

Buyer: “[My Name], stop it. I’m trying to work with you here. Nobody ever said I’m the only interested party. They obviously offered you less than your $500 price; otherwise, it would be gone, right? Think about it, man. It’s not that bad. You get cash and you move on.”

Me: “Clearly, you need what I have since there aren’t many around, and there are zero priced anywhere near mine. I don’t have to accept less just because YOU think it’s worth less.”

Buyer: “I’ve asked twice for a number that you would actually take, other than the inflated $500 price.”

Me: “I actually have someone meeting me tomorrow around lunch to pick it up, and another when I get off work if they pass on it. You want it today? $500. Inflated? Dude, f*** off. It’s worth what it’s worth. Sorry your tiny budget can’t afford it. Go buy someone else’s.”

Buyer: “[My Name], you’re having a meltdown. There’s no need to get mad about it. I offered a price and you’re flipping out about it. Get a grip.”

Me: “LOL, I’m fine. More amused that you keep going on about it.”

Buyer: “Let’s do some business. Dude, nobody tells someone to f*** off if they are a normal person. At this point, I’m here offering you advice, which is worth way more than $500. You should be paying me. Dude, all I did was offer a price and you flipped out over it. I’m not even angry. I’m still trying to do business and get a realistic number. You basically melted down into a puddle of mush. Get a grip, regroup, and let’s figure this out. How about we meet in the middle? You’re at $500; I’m at $300. $400, we shake hands and call it a deal.”

Me: “I’m not haggling with you. You want it, $500. Take it or leave it.”

Buyer: “You’re only not willing to haggle because you’re going to take it as a personal defeat. Sad stuff, man.”

Me: “LOL. I’m not willing to haggle because it’s already well under market value and I’ve got two other people who want it. I’m in no rush, I ain’t desperate for money, but it’s worth what it’s worth.”

Buyer: “$400 and it’s a deal. Tonight.”

Me: “No deal. Good luck hunting!”

Buyer: “Ah, personal defeat. It’s not like that, [My Name].”

Me: “No. We are done here. Good luck.”

Buyer: “I hope you get help, man, honestly. Never seen someone flip out this hard.”