(I work in customer care for a well-known photo company, which has grown from developing analogue film to being an online-based company that only deals with digital pictures. Despite the decade-long rollover is still somewhat new to our older clientele, despite the decrease in use of analogue film over the last decades. This is a usual phone call from said older customers.)
Me: “Hi! Thank you for calling [company name]! What can I do for you?”
Customer: “Hi! Do you still develop film?”
Me: “No, unfortunately we discontinued that service September of last year.”
Customer: “Oh no! Are there others who still develop?”
Me: “Yes, fortunately [competing company] still develop film in their stores, so you can contact them for further assistance.”
Customer: “But you do not develop any film?”
Me: “No.”
Customer: *in a panicky voice* “When did you stop?”
Me: “… September of last year.”
Customer: “But I have so many films that need developing! What should I do now?”
Me: *head on desk* “As I’ve previously said, [competing company] still develops film in their stores …”

I started my first job when I was fourteen. There are a lot of rules that have to be followed when someone under eighteen works, like how often one can work, time of the day, and stuff like that. I think I broke every single one. However, I was only glad for the money and apparently, it’s the employer who has to make sure the rules are followed, not the employee.

When you’re under fifteen, you need written consent from your parents before you can start working. I never had written consent; however, my manager knew that my parents agreed as my manager kind of knew my mom.

Also, when under fifteen, you can’t work more than two hours a day, and twelve hours a week. I definitely worked more than that.

When under fifteen, it’s not legal to work after 8:00 pm or before 6:00 am. I often worked until 10:00 pm and started work at 4:30 or  5:30 am.

When under eighteen, you’re not allowed to work overtime, so a maximum of nine hours a day, and forty hours a week. I often worked more than nine hours a day, sometimes more than forty hours a week, as well. I got paid for it, so I was happy. As I had near to no expenses, I definitely felt rich when I got paid and didn’t have to pay any bills or anything like that.

I was also entitled to thirty-minute breaks when working four and a half hours or more, and since I didn’t get to leave my workplace, I was supposed to get paid during those thirty minutes. I didn’t get paid, so I often just didn’t take a break. My manager made sure I got paid for thirty minutes extra every day.

There was also the issue with vacation. When under eighteen, if you go to school, you have to have four weeks and one day of vacation each year, and two of the weeks have to be during the summer months. I worked all through the summer, each summer, all of the “red days” — Sundays, Christmas, and Easter — where we get paid 100% overtime.

For the sake of my employer, and myself, I am very glad that the labor inspection never checked us, as my employer would have been in trouble, and I wouldn’t have been able to work all of those hours. Was it legal? Definitely not, but hey, I got paid, and my employer saved money, as I was cheaper than people over the age of 18.

(I have just clocked out of work and am walking to the back to collect my things. A customer comes running towards me with two items in her hands; one of them is missing the tag.)

Customer: “Hey, you. This, 50% off!”

(She then shoves the item without the tag in my face.)

Me: “No—”

Customer: “This, 50% off!”

Me: “No, it is full price.”

Customer: *waving the item around* “It is opened! So, 50% off!”

Me: “No, it is not on sale.”

Customer: “Why won’t you give it to me for 50% off?”

Me: “Because the item is fully functional.”

(The item she wants  and is waving around has a part you can unscrew, and at this point it falls off.)

Customer: “It is broken. 50% off.”

Me: “No, you will not get it for 50% off.”

(The customer shoves her items at me, stating that she does not want them, before she finally decides to leave. I give my coworker the items so that they can be put away.)

Coworker: “You know, she tried the same thing on me. She was also the one who actually opened the item! If she comes back, I am simply going to call security!”

(We have never had to call security on a customer before, but for this customer we actually had to consider it!)

(It’s late in the season and not a lot of visitors. I’m manning the reception desk of a fairly large museum alone; the only other person in the building currently is a middle-aged lady.)

Lady: “The blue dress in the exhibition!”

Me: “Yes?”

Lady: “I was just wondering how much it would be?”

Me: “Well, it’s from the 1700s and very well preserved, so a similar dress at an antiques store would probably be fairly costly, but the museum acquired it…”

Lady: “Yes, but how much for it?!”

Me: “I’m… afraid I don’t understand you.”

Lady: “Can you open the thingy? I would like to try it on!”

Me: “You… want me to open a temperature regulated, specially built display case so that you can put on a several centuries old and very frail linen garment?”

Lady: “Yes?”

Me: “Madam, this is not a store. The items on display are not for sale.”

(The lady looked extremely perplexed, mumbled something about a costume party, and went back into the exhibition. I suppose she got us confused with costume rental…)

I work in Tech-support at my local municipality. My job is to help people employed in the municipality, not the people living there.
Me: Techsupport, this is [Me].
Lady: Where is this?
Me: This is IT-helpdesk at [municipality].
Lady: Ah, good. Perhaps you my explain to me why there is only no good, [a couple of derogatory insults which I can’t translete], people working at the City Hall?
(I am set back as we just had an Virus-outbeak and got nothing but good feedback on our effort).
Me: I’m sorry, but what seems to be the problem?
Lady: Why is it impossible to get hold of anyone on the phones?
(We do telephones to, so I may fix the problem for this lady. Also, our ISP have had som cellular problems lately, but all should be good now).
Me: Do you get cut off, or what is happening?
Lady: No, they answer. But they do nothing, and don’t even call back!.
Me: Is it IT who is not calling back?
Lady: No, it’s those b******s at childcare.
Me: Oh, I see. I’m sorry, but you have reached IT, I have nothing to do with childcare. If you…
Lady. Well, thats not my problem! You explain to an 8 year old why he have no shoes!
Me: I’m sorry, but I don’t think that is a good idea. I work with copmputers and telephones, not children.
Lady: Well explain why they don’t call back then!
Me: That may be for many reasons. But I do not work with childcare and do not know why. Let me see if I find their number and transfer your call.
Lady: No! I want you to explain to an 8 year old why you no good [and so on] do not helm him.
Me: Once again, you have reach IT, I know nothing of this.
Lady: Okay, you work at city hall, right?
Me: Yes.
Lady: Which floor?
Me: 2nd.
Lady: Good. I’ll come down and drop of the 8 year old and send him to you so you can explain why he has no shooes.
Me: That will do no good, I’m sorry, but I know nothing of this. Please let me transfer your call.
Lady: No, they can not help me at all. Get me the mayor.
Me: He is in meetings all day, so that is not possible.
Lady: No wonder nothing gets done when you are all in meetings all the time.
Me: Let me transfer you to the boss of childcare, okay?
Lady: Yes, do that.
(I could not find the number for the boss, so I transferred her to the front desk of childcare. If you read this, sorry. I noticed that she never said it was her son, and was later told taht this woman calls in at least once a mont to complaint about something. Usually childcare, but noone knows if she really has a son. We have a good childcare-system in Norway, so I hope sh found some shoes for the kid. It was, after all, snow and 0 degrees Celsius (32 F)).