In 1980, I was working in a music store as a piano and organ salesman. One day, the music director for the college came in looking to buy a seven-foot grand piano; the one they had had been stolen.

Yes, you read that right. A seven-foot grand piano, weighing about 900 to 1000 pounds, was stolen. It was in the middle of the day, with students and staff everywhere.

Pianos in institutional settings like a college may need to be moved from room to room to performance hall, so they sit on what’s called a grand dolly — a three-legged frame with small three-wheeled platforms that the legs sit in — allowing it to be easily moved.

How did they do it? They backed a truck into the loading dock, some guys in identical jumpsuits walked into the music department, said, “We’re taking it to be serviced,” and rolled the piano out to the freight elevator and onto the truck. Away it went, never to be seen again.

They tried to take the nine-foot, but it wouldn’t fit in the elevator.

A guy brought in a flute for repair, and it turned out it needed all the pads replaced. He did not want to pay our repair price, so he instead bought a set of pads at a quarter of the cost of the repair.

Customer: “I can figure it out myself. I’m an engineer!”

Me: “Okay. If you have any trouble, bring it back and we’ll be happy to repair it.”

It turned out that he was a software engineer! But the best part is that he came back a week later to buy a whole new flute because, and I quote:

Customer: “That one is a piece of s***! I’m glad I didn’t spend a lot on it.”

We just laughed after he left.

When I am a young and penniless student, I attend summer language courses in Oxford, and on the weekends, we are driven to London and let loose in the city. I use these trips to take advantage of the huge discounts at the so-called “mad barking sale”, spending my yearly tape budget there.

It’s our last London weekend, our plane leaves tomorrow, and I’m at the desk with my new purchases, a return, and a defective case. As a theft prevention measure, the store only has empty cases on the shelves and cashiers fill them with the cassettes at the desk.

Me: “Hello. I’m buying these tapes…” *puts the empty cases on desk* “…and I’d like to return this one, as I bought two by mistake…” *puts a full case on desk* “…and I’d also like to have this case exchanged, as it has a hairline crack, if possible.

I put an empty case on the desk, as the cassette is in my Walkman, being played.

Cashier: “Sure, we can do that.”

We exchange some small talk as the cashier quickly goes through the operations of filling and changing cases and presents me with my purchases already in a bag and the total. I pay and thank her.

Me: “Hope to see you again next year!”

Cashier: “You, too. Have a safe journey!”

Once at home, I got a look at the bill and realised that the cashier had both deducted the price of the returned tape AND put it in the bag with the rest of my purchases, changed the cracked case and put a new cassette in it, and discounted a few items that weren’t on sale at that. Now I surely hoped to see that cashier again

The extra cassettes made two of my friends very happy, but when I went back to the music store the following year, the cashier did not work there anymore. Bummer.

I’m answering the phone.

Customer: “I’m looking for horn sticks.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer: “They’re little pieces of wood my kid puts in his mouthpiece.”

Me: “Do you mean the instrument called the horn, or are you using ‘horn’ as a generic term for a wind instrument?”

Customer: “Nah, he plays horn.”

I puzzled over it and talked to the customer for a long time, asking many follow-up questions, until the customer finally asked the kid. He needed saxophone reeds.

I work at a guitar store. A customer calls on the phone.

Client: “Hi, I purchased this [guitar effect] from you guys, and now it’s not working. Why’d you sell me broken equipment?”

Me: “That’s not good. Bring it in and we should be able to exchange it.”

He shows up the next day.

Me: “Do you have your receipt?”

He pulls out a receipt that is so faded I can barely read it.

Me: “You bought this stompbox in 2016.”

Client: “Yeah, and it’s BROKEN!”

Me: “We didn’t sell it to you broken. Have a good day!”