(I work in a print shop.)

Client: “I need some envelopes printed; [Other Place] said you do that.”

Me: “That’s right. Do you have a layout?”

Client: “Yeah, like this.” *hands over a USB stick with a PDF*

Me: “Okay, we can do this, except we can’t print that line all the way to the edge; it’ll be cut short a few millimeters from the edge.”

Client: “But I want that line to the edge!”

Me: “Then you’ll have to visit [Other Place], since they can print offset.”

Client: “But they were so much more expensive; I want to buy from you guys.”

Me: “Then you won’t get the line all the way from edge to edge.”

Client: “But I want the line out to the edges!”

Me: “And we can’t do that. For that, you need offset printing.”

Client: “But that’s more expensive!”

Me: “Yes, it is. And we’re cheaper, because we can’t do that.”

Client: “But I want you to!”

Me: “I’d like that, too, but I’d need three years of education and a serious hardware investment for that to happen. I’m afraid neither of us will be satisfied here today.”

Client: “How can I get the line to the edge, then?”

Me: “Go to [Other Place]. It’s why they’re more expensive.”

Client: “But I don’t want to pay that much!”

(And so on, for nearly ten minutes.)

(I work in a restaurant that usually does parties for kids whose parents book in advance. We hire popular mascots, such as Mickey Mouse and The Cookie Monster. On this particular day, Cookie is doing the rounds, and we have this mother walk up to Cookie and me.)

Mother: “Excuse me, but my daughter would like the blue monster to deliver her meals.”

Me: “My apologies, but The Cookie Monster only delivers food to birthday children whose parents have booked in advance.”

Mother: “But we booked this table in advance! We paid more than them, so my daughter should get the monster, too.”

(It’s clear the kid is getting agitated at this point.)

Kid: “Mommy, I want the monster!”

Mother: “Don’t worry; you’ll get the monster.”

Me: “You won’t, unless you’re willing to pay the £35 extra birthday party fee and come back on another day when the monster isn’t fully booked.”

Mother: “I’m not coming back! I want the manager!”

Kid: *extremely stressed* “Mommy! Make him bring my food!”

(At this point the child kicked and slapped the monster, and the manager was called. The woman and child were escorted from the premises and banned from the restaurant.)

This story is part of our Birthday Party Roundup!

Read the next Birthday Party Roundup story!

Read the Birthday Party Roundup!

(My four-year-old daughter loves to sing and to improvise lyrics. On this occasion we have been celebrating Mother’s Day and we are driving home from visiting her grandparents. I’m sitting next to her in the car.)

Daughter: “Can I sing a song for you, Mamma?”

Me: “Oh, yes, of course!” *expecting something lovely and cute, about Mother’s Day*

Daughter: *singing while keeping eye contact* “Oh, Mamma, you are so beautifuuuul, but I don’t love youuuuu. I love [Best Friend #1], [Best Friend #2], [Her Cousin], and [Daycare Worker]… aaaaand Papa! Wasn’t that a nice song, Mamma?”

Me: “Yes, it was. Yes. It. Was. I’m a bit sad that you don’t love me, but I liked your song, and you sing it so nicely!”

Daughter: “I’m fond of you, Mamma, but I love Papa the most.”

(I know she loves me, though. She’s just not very pleased with my parenting strategies nowadays.)

This story is part of our Mother’s Day 2021 roundup!

Read the next Mother’s Day 2021 roundup story!

Read the Mother’s Day 2021 roundup!

(I work as a security guard at a nightclub. A group of guys appearing to be tourists are all standing in line. They look fairly young.)

Me: *to the first guy in the line* “May I see your ID, please?”

Guy: “What? No, I left my passport back at the hotel.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but without a valid ID I can’t let you in.”

Guy: “I swear to you I turned 18 just last month. You have to believe me!”

Me: “I believe you.”

Guy: “YES!”

Me: “The age limit here is 20.”

Related:
No ID, No Idea, Part 31
No ID, No Idea, Part 30
No ID, No Idea, Part 29

(It’s the new year, and Mum is putting away the Christmas decorations. One of the things she got for Christmas was a large Santa gnome decoration, which my brother and his girlfriend insisted be named. Note: My mum grew up, and is to date, religious.)

Mum: “[My Name], what did we name the Santa?”

Me: “I don’t know; it had like three complicated names. Why don’t you just rename it?”

Mum: “Okay, then his name will be Joseph!”

Me: “Joseph?”

Mum: “Yeah, after the Polish guy who gave my dad a bottle of alcohol every Christmas, which always irritated my mum.”

Me: “Ah, so not Joseph Joseph.”

Mum: “No, that would be weird.”