(This phone call happened a month after Hurricane Ike came through, and one of our clients missed his court date.)

Me: “Sir, why did you miss your court date?”

Client: “I’m not going back to jail! I missed court because I’m not back from the evaporation yet.”

Me: “Uh… what?”

Client: “I had to evaporate up north.”

Me: “…really? Evaporate? How did you do that? Was it painful?”

Client: “No! We rode a bus! What don’t you understand about having to evaporate?! I’m not going back to jail!”

Me: *sigh*

Me: Hello, my name is [My Name]. How may I assist you today?

Customer: “Yeah, I’m trying to watch the baseball game, but it’s in Spanish. I don’t speak Spanish.”

Me: “Okay, sir, have you tried to remove the SAP function on the TV? If you don’t know how, I can walk–”

Customer: “Listen, I have had you people tell me this over and over again! I want a valid reason the game is in Spanish, and none of this ‘SAP’ junk.”

Me: *gives up* “Well sir, the real reason is many of the players are not from America. How are they supposed to know what’s going on if the game is broadcast in English?

Customer: “Thank you! At least one person there knows what’s going on. Have a nice day.”

Me: “…”

Customer: *holds up sweatshirt* “Oh, my god, they spelled this wrong!”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “Los Angeles!”

Me: “Um, that’s how you spell it.”

Customer: “Nooooo. It says LOS Angeles, but it’s supposed to be LAS Angeles. It’s pronounced LAS Angeles. Am I right?”

Customer’s Friends: “Yeah, totally!”

Customer: “And, actually, shouldn’t it be LAS AngeLAS? Because that’s how you say it, LAS AngeLAS!”

Me: “…”

Customer: “I can’t believe no one has ever noticed this before!”

Me: “Yeah, it’s shocking…”

(I work at a fish and chips booth at a 19th-century London convention.)

Customer: “Hi, I want some chips.”

Me: “Sure, that’ll be [price]. Here are your chips.”

Customer: “No, I want chips.”

Me: “These are chips.”

Customer: “No, they’re french fries.”

Me: “In England, they’re called chips.”

Customer: “So? We’re in America.”

Me: “You’re at a convention set in London.”

Customer: “So?”

Me: “So, they’re called chips in an attempt to be authentic.”

Customer: “The f***? I’m an American and in America, they’re called french fries!”

Me: “So why aren’t they called American fries?”

Customer: *stares blankly*

This story is part of the French Fry roundup!

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(A customer and her young son are buying a bag of birdseed when she notices a picture of my horse on the board behind me.)

Customer: “Oh, what a beautiful horse! Is he a black stallion?”

Me: “Actually, ma’am, he’s a gelding.”

Customer: “Oh… what’s the difference?”

Me: “A gelding is a male horse who’s been castrated.”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “Uh… a male horse who’s been neutered.”

Customer: “I don’t understand.”

Me: “A male horse who’s had his testicles surgically removed.”

Customer: “I still don’t…”

Me: “A horse with no balls, ma’am.”

Customer: *covering her son’s ears* “My goodness! My son’s only five, you know! He doesn’t need to hear that language!”

Me: “…have a nice day, ma’am.”