(I work at an office that has various different offices and two small studios for some of the graphic designers, movie editors, and musicians that work with us. I work as one of the tech support guys and am fixing the computer at the reception desk when a teenager walks in.)

Customer: “Hey, do you work here?”

Me: “Yeah, can I help you?”

Customer: “So what do you guys do here?”

Me: “Well, everyone here does something different. I happen to be tech support.”

Customer: “Cool. Do they make movies here?”

Me: “I’m not sure. They might.”

Customer: “Right on. Do you know what kind?”

Me: “Well, they have a green screen so I’m not sure.”

Customer: “Do you know if they make any adult movies here?”

Me: “Like I said, I’m not sure. I’m not sure what they do in the studios.”

Customer: “Can I take a tour?”

Me: “Look, I’m the tech support guy.. I’m not authorized to give you a tour.”

Customer: “Come on. I’ll give you $5!”

Me: “I’m not going to risk my job over $5.”

Customer: “I swear, people like you make it hard for people like me to see boobies!”

(I work in a ground-level office, and I am usually the only one working within view of both the front and back doors.)

Customer: *coming in from the back hallway* “Hello, I’m here for my appointment.”

Me: “With who?”

Customer: “With [Employee].”

Me: “I think you’re in the wrong office.”

Customer: “Oh, terribly sorry.”

(The customer goes back down to the back door and reappears from the front door a few minutes later.)

Customer: “Hello, I’m here to see [Employee] for my appointment?”

Me: “Ma’am, this is the same office. You have to go down the stairs in the parking lot to get to [Company]. They’re on the basement level.”

Customer: “Oh! That explains it, thank you!”

(The customer heads out the front door again but wanders back down the back hallway almost immediately.)

Me: “Still in the wrong place, ma’am. You need to go downstairs.”

Customer: *scowling and glaring* “You’re much less polite than the other two boys!”

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Me: “May I help you?”

Caller: “Please put me through to [Owner].”

Me: “Sure, who’s calling, please?”

Caller: “His cousin Fred.”

Me: “I didn’t know he had a cousin Fred.”

Caller: “Why would you? You just answer phones! This is a family affair and none of your business! Who do you think you are, anyway?”

Me: “[Owner]’s daughter.” *click*

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(The mortgage company I work for sends out notices to people with FHA home loans letting them know that they may be eligible for a new FHA program, and to call us for more information.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “Take me off your mailing list!”

Me: “Okay, that’s no problem. What’s the file-number on the notice?”

Caller: “I’m not giving you any information!”

Me: “I just need that so I can pull up your file and remove you from the system.”

Caller: “I’m not giving you any information!”

Me: “But then I don’t know who you are.”

Caller: “Good!”

Me: “But then how do I know who to stop sending the notice to?”

Caller: *several seconds of silence, and then they hang up*

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(I work as a receptionist at my father’s company. I had a brother who passed away before I was born.)

Me: “Thank you for calling [Company]. How may I direct your call?”

Customer: “Yeah, I need to speak to [Owner].”

Me: “All right, sir, what’s your name and purpose of your call?”

Customer: “Oh, he knows me. I’m his son.”

Me: “Michael? You’re alive!”

Customer: *click*

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