Customer: “Hello, I’ve driven quite far to get some prints from my old digital camera, and I’d like to pick them up today if possible.”
Me: “Absolutely, sir. Where’s the memory card?”
Customer: “Right here.”
(The customers unwraps a plastic bag and tries to hand me the contents. I just give him a knowing look that he quickly notices, he takes a look at the thing in his hand, and it dawns on him.)
Customer: “This is the battery, isn’t it?”
(Working in a photo lab, I see all kinds of terrible pictures. On this occasion, after I develop the negatives, this customer’s pictures are completely out of focus. I develop them anyway, because they seem to be of a vacation, and mark them as “no charge.” When she comes to pick them up, she demands that the cashier come and get me.)
Customer: “These pictures are all out of focus!”
Me: “Yeah, sorry about that. I salvaged everything I could.”
Customer: “I want you to try again.”
Me: “Sure, I’ll see what I can do, but don’t hold your breath.”
(I print them again and try to adjust brightness and saturation to try and get more definition, but it’s still terribly blurry.)
Me: “Sorry, ma’am, this is the best I can do.”
Customer: “I want you to do this properly, and print them in focus!”
Me: “Ma’am, the only way that’s happening is if I go back in time and teach you how to use a camera.”
(She stormed off and I got a complaint, but it was worth it.)
(I work in a photo lab at a photo store. A woman comes up to me and asks me for a USB cord for her laptop. As I’m busy at the moment and there is a free — female — coworker, I ask the customer to turn to her.)
Customer: *looks at me with big eyes and gasps* “How does she know? She’s a woman!”
Me: *calmly* “So am I!”
(She looked at me for a moment and left quickly.)
*note: I get this question almost every day.*
Customer: “How long does the 1 hour service take?”
(I am a woman in my 30s, picking up a framed photo of the extended family.)
Store Employee: “Nice picture! Is it for a family party?”
Me: “Yes, actually! It’s the great grandfather’s 90th birthday.”
Store Employee: “Those are some good genes!”
Me: “They sure are! He is actually my husband’s grandfather, though.”
Store Employee: “So, he’ll be the one to bury you, then.”
Me: *confused pause* “I… guess… so?”
