(We have to have customers sign a copyright release form if they print pictures that they do not own the rights to, such as an image of a celebrity they found off of Google. It makes sure we’re not the ones liable for printing it. A man made a poster of a foreign prince and I attach to the poster the form to sign. A customer comes up to the counter about an hour later and my coworker is assisting him. It’s the man with the poster.)

Coworker: “Sorry, sir, do you own the rights to this photo?”

Customer: “It’s a stock photo I found on Google! What the h*** are you talking about?!”

Coworker: “Well, if you found it on Google, it is copyrighted and we need you to sign this form.”

Customer: “It’s a stock photo! Of course I don’t own the rights!”

Coworker: “Yep, and we need you to sign this release form so you can have the photo.”

Customer: “You’re so stupid! You’re stupid! It’s a stock photo! Off Google! I have every right to have it!”

Coworker: “Yep, you can have it. We just need you to sign the form.”

Customer: *as he’s storming off* “You’re stupid! You’re so stupid! I can’t believe this bulls***! You’re so stupid! Stupid!”

(The door to the photo lab is always open when there are employees inside, which means anything can wander in.)

Me: *on break eating lunch when I notice two pigeons walk in* “I wonder who will walk in the lab soon.”

(Right on the moment my coworker walks in and scares the pigeons, which fly out the only door. My coworker ducks to avoid the pigeons.)

Me: *laughs*

Coworker: *screams then laughs a bit* “That hella scared me.”

Me: “That was funny; I was just wondering who will enter the lab.”

Coworker: “That was not funny. That scared the s*** out of me.”

Me: “I think you scared the s*** out of the pigeons.”

(I just get into work to find out our main printer is down again. It breaks about three times a week. Our backup printer is three times slower than our main but it works just fine.)

Customer: “How long will my pictures take?”

Me: “Unfortunately we’re on our backup printer, but I’d still say 15 – 20 minutes.”

(Our policy is a 15 minute guarantee for 120 pictures. But the guarantee is void if our main printer is down.)

Customer: “I can’t believe this! Every time I get pictures your printer is down! I asked him—“ *pointing to my coworker* “—if everything was working right today! He said yes!”

(Coworker overhears and steps in.)

Coworker: “You asked me if the computers were working fine, and they are. The printer just went down about 10 minutes ago.”

Customer: “I just can’t believe this!”

(A few minutes later my manager walks up.)

Manager: “That customer just complained to me at the service desk about our printer being down. I’m giving her 20% off her order.”

Me: “Okay.” *filling out our discount sheet* “So should I put for the reason for the discount that ‘the customer was whiny’?”

Manager: “Haha! No, don’t.”

Customer: “Can you remove this person—” *indicates one child right in the middle of a family photo* “—from this photo? Oh, and be careful, there was a dog taking a fat s*** behind him. If you can see it, remove it, too.”

(The photo processing shop where I work has one regular customer, a 40-ish something man, known for being lewd and harassing female employees, so much so that none of the other females would help him. I am the only one who will deal with him because I’m typically pretty laid back and hard to upset.)

Me: “Hey, [Regular], how are you today?”

Regular: “Fine now that I get to see your pretty little face.”

Me: “Mhm. Here are your prints.”

Regular: “When are you going to let me take you out for a nice dinner? I can make it worth your while.”

Me: “You’re married. I’m not interested.”

(Usually my directness makes him back off. Not this day.)

Regular: “C’mon, baby. You know I wouldn’t kick you outta bed unless you wanted to f*** on the floor.”

Me: “That’s it! I’m done waiting on you, as is every other woman here!”

(I promptly went to a male manager, told him what happened, and said I refused to work with that customer ever again. It was just the last straw for me. The owner, an “old-fashioned” man, wasn’t going to kick a regular customer, who brought a lot of business, out of the store for “just asking out some girls” but it was understood after that day, that NO female would ever wait on him again. I should also add that he is married to a very lovely, sweet woman and they have a couple of kids. I always wondered how she could be with such a prick. Or how I could work for a bunch of male chauvinists.)