(I work in a call centre, providing technical support for mobile phones. People can become a bit stupid or crazy when it comes to their phones. This is a conversation I’ve had quite often.)

Me: “Hello, this is [My Name] for [Brand]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “I heard the Android version 6 is out. How can I install it?”

Me: “Well, the version 5.1 is just out, so I would imagine it’ll take a while.”

Customer: “You’re lying; I saw it on the Internet! It says it is out! Why don’t you give it to me?”

Me: “Sir, I can assure you it’s not out yet. [Brand] will issue a statement on our website when it is available. You can register for updates, as well.”

Customer: “Humph. Whatever.”

(Fast forward a few months…)

Customer: “I know Android 6 is out now! I want it now!”

Me: “Yes, the deployment has started, so it’ll become available to all devices that can receive the update within a few weeks. Depending on the model of your phone, it’ll take some time. Or you can check in settings to see if you can do it already.”

Customer: *checks phone* “It’s not there yet. Why is it not there yet?”

Me: “Then you have to wait until it is made available to your device. It’ll come soon.”

Customer: “Pfff!”

(He called back almost every day for the next two weeks until he actually received the update. Then…)

Customer: “I just installed Android 6. I don’t like it; I want to go back to the previous version.”

Me: “Unfortunately, that’s not possible. It goes only one way; you can’t downgrade.”

Customer: “That’s not true! Some people on the Internet said they did it!”

Me: “It is not possible, unless you root your phone, in which case you cancel your warranty. Also, unless you’re a programmer, you are most likely to make it worse.”

Customer: “I don’t care; do it now!”

Me: “I can’t. You have to go to the website, and request it. But remember, by doing this you are cancelling your warranty!”

Customer: “I don’t care; I can do it. Besides, I’m famous on social media; I can get you in trouble.”

Me: “No, you won’t. I explained the conditions to you, so if you damage your phone, it’ll be your own responsibility.”

Customer: “We’ll see about that!” *click*

(Still waiting for his call to complain about his phone not working at all.)

(I’m in a bar during my first week of university and have sat down by the dance floor to rest for a minute. A student I vaguely recognise from my halls comes and sits next to me. I am female.)

Guy: “Hey, how about I buy you a drink, and then we can get out of here?”

Me: “Ah, I’m really sorry. I’m a lesbian.”

(This is true.)

Guy: *thinks for a minute* “I have moobs?”

(I immediately twigged that he wasn’t serious, and he’s been one of my best friends for the last seven years. I was even his best woman when he got married.)

(I work at a big cinema with two floors and twelve screens. “Black Panther” is still doing really well, so it’s still quite busy. It’s my day off but I’ve come in to watch a film. When I get to the upper floor, I see a little boy, probably seven years old, stood in the upper foyer in tears. Everybody seems to be walking past him, and kids sometimes wander out to the toilet and forget what screen they’re in, so I decide to help.)

Me: “Hey there. Are you lost?”

Kid: *in tears* “I don’t know where my daddy is.”

Me: “Well, where did you last see him?”

Kid: “I don’t know. I don’t know where he is.”

(We check the toilets but can’t find him there. Worried I have an abandoned kid on my hands, I decide to try and calm him down.)

Me: *noticing he’s wearing Black Panther sleeves with claws* “Hey, those look really cool. Are you here to see Black Panther?”

Kid: *nods* “Uh-huh.”

Me: “You like superheroes, then?”

Kid: *nods more*

Me: “Who’s your favourite?”

Kid: “Spider-Man.”

Me: “Me, too! How about we go see if your dad is downstairs? Maybe he went to grab a drink.”

Kid: *significantly calmer* “Okay.”

(We head downstairs and the kid starts bouncing up and down on the escalator.)

Kid: “There he is! I can see him! I see him!”

(He doesn’t rush off when we get downstairs, waiting for me to walk with him, and when we approach, the kid rushes forward and wraps his arms around his dad’s legs.)

Dad: “[Kid]? What are you doing here?”

Me: “I found him in tears upstairs. He was really scared that he couldn’t find you.”

(Whereas most parents would be relieved that their child is okay and somebody was helping them out, [Dad] instead gets angry.)

Dad: *to kid* “For f***’s sake! I’ve been five minutes! You should’ve just waited!”

(I’ve been with the kid for ten minutes, so it’s not like the kid is being over-dramatic, especially given how young he seems and that he didn’t know where his dad was.)

Kid: “You were gone a really long time.”

Dad: “There was a staff member there. They were looking after you.”

Me: “There was no one up there when I walked past.”

Dad: *angrily* “Well, they should have been looking after him! What are they paid for, if not to help customers?!”

(We’ve frequently had to chase after parents in the past who just dump young children in our films and expect us to be responsible for them while they get some shopping done or go for a drink or do whatever. I once had to chase a woman half way down the street after dumping twelve 10- to 11-year-olds in a movie, expecting us to look after them. Since I’m not wearing my uniform and this man doesn’t know I work here, I decide to speak up.)

Me: “With all due respect, the staff are paid to serve you when you arrive and clean the screens when you leave. Nowhere in their job description does it include the word ‘babysitter.’ You can’t expect them to just drop what they’re doing to help you out, especially when it gets busy like this.”

(The kid’s dad looked like he had a few more choice words to say to me, but he just grumbled out a reluctant thank-you for looking after his kid and the two of them walked off.)

This story takes place at 5.25 in the morning. My ticket window is open and my colleague is just about to start, he hasn’t got his microphone on yet so customers cannot hear him. A customer comes up to my window.

Customer: How much is it for a single to Chippenham?

Me: (After looking the fare up) £20

Customer: That’s a bit steep, where am I?

Me: Reading.

Customer: Where’s that?

Me: (Starting to think it’s going to be one of “those” mornings) Berkshire.

Customer: B***** Hell. I only popped out for a pint of milk.

Coworker: (Socco Voce) I think you’ve popped out for something a bit stronger.

After this it all goes downhill from there, after suggesting he grabs a cup of coffee while he thinks things over, he comes back at 7.30 to buy a ticket.  He then comes back at 11.30 saying that he has a ticket for collection and was eventually escorted off the station premises at 13.45 in the company of 2 very large and very annoyed transport police officers.

(I am at a coffee shop. I have quite an unusual name, which is always spelt wrong by strangers. Because of this, I decide to shorten my name to what only members of my family call me, because I don’t want to waste time spelling it to the barista. However, the shortened version of my name is quite common.)

Barista: “What’s your name?”

Me: *gives shortened version of my name*

Barista: *writes the name on the cup for my drink*

(A short while later, after I’ve been waiting for the drink…)

Barista: “[Drink] for [Shortened version of My Name]!”

Me: *stands there for a couple of seconds, then looks around* “Oh, s***! That’s me!”