(The phone rings.)

Me: “[Store]; good evening. How may I help you?”

Customer: “Hello? I need help. There are squirrels in my roof, and I—”

Me: “I am sorry to hear that, ma’am, but we do not offer any services to remove squirrels.”

Customer: “But you don’t understand. I buy everything from your store! Why can’t you help me? I can hear them through the walls!”

Me: “I understand, ma’am, and we appreciate your loyalty as a customer; however, we do not remove squirrels. We are a hardware store.”

Customer: *in tears* “What am I supposed to do? Why won’t you help me? Is there a manager I can speak to?”

(I transfer the call to my manager. Fifteen minutes later my manager comes up to me.)

Manager: “Did that call really just happen?”

Me: “Yes. Did you help her with the squirrels?”

Manager: *laughing hysterically* “If you ever pass me a call like that again, I’ll fire you!”

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(I have a coworker who is a little on the ditzy side. We are working together in the stock room and chatting about New York City.)

Coworker: “I used to live in New York and it was great! I used to go to this place all the time called the 92nd Street Y. It was on 6th Avenue and um… like, uptown somewhere… I forget.”

(I wait for a few beats to see if she’ll figure it out.)

Me: “Was it on 6th Avenue and 92nd Street, maybe?”

Coworker: “Oh!” *looking sheepish* “…yeah.”

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CONTENT WARNING: Head injury through possible suicide attempt.

(I work as a dispatcher for my hometown.)

Me: “911, what’s your emergency?”

Caller: “My husband has been lying on the couch moaning in pain all day; I think he needs to go to the hospital. My address is [Address].”

Me: “Okay, an ambulance is on the way. Did your husband eat anything unusual today?”

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Does he have any allergies?”

Caller: “No.”

Me: “Where did he say the pain is coming from?”

Caller: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Okay, but did he do anything unusual today that could cause his pain?”

Caller: “Um, well, he shot himself in the head this morning.”

(I help out at a friend’s riding stable. It’s not uncommon for people whose only experience with horses is watching “Bonanza” reruns on TV to then claim to be experienced riders.)

Me: “Have you had much riding experience?”

Customer: “Yeah, I know all about horses! Bring me a good, fast one.”

(I saddle a decent horse and bring him out for this guy.)

Customer: “How do I get on?”

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(I am working as a ranger on a busy Sunday. All of the tee times are taken for the entire day. Even though the course is full, the pace of play is still at four hours because the course uses ten-minute tee times. As I come up to the eleventh tee, a customer is practice swinging his driver while waiting for the group in front of him move to the green. The customer walks over to me.)

Customer: “I want to play through the group ahead of us.”

Me: *politely* “I am sorry, sir, but that is not an option. The course is full and there is no group that is out of position.”

Customer: “I know the owner of the course and he would let my group play through.”

Me: “I know the owner quite well myself, and your group will not be able to play through.”

(He turns his back to me and starts swearing every swear word known to man. His swearing does not bother me because he’s not directing his comments to me. His three other playing partners never say a word to me and look content drinking a cold beverage while waiting their turn. All of a sudden, he quickly turns around and starts walking towards me in a fast pace with his driver in his hand. He has a crazy look in his eyes as he approaches and I prepare myself for an angry confrontation.)

Customer: *screaming* “I have a date today and if I am late for my date, I am going to have my girlfriend call you to yell at you!”

Me: *without hesitation* “Is your girlfriend hot? If she is, I will give you my number. Have her call me.”

(The three men on the carts busted up laughing. The man with the golf club never said another word for the rest of the day.)

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