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Dear stupid, drunk, stoned and/or paranoid people
Stay the fuck out of my store.
1) Stupid: nuuuuuuuurrrrrr.... I waited until the day before I needed these 42 different files printed out, so I can sign one page on each file, then hand them back to you so you can make copies of them. nuuuuuuuuurrrrrr.... the person e-mailing the files has been trying to send them for 7 hours. (Here's a hint, asshole. Next time, have them courier a CD to you the day before. Or drive down. It's a 3-4 hour trip, and you wouldn't have been spazzing out every five minutes for the three hours you were here.)
2) Drunk/Stoned: Dude, do you sell cigarettes/rolling papers/beer here? (Hey! Clueless fuck! This is a copy center. The Shell station is around the corner, you fucking jackass.)
3) Paranoid: This was a new one for me. Luckily, this was all on the phone.
Customer: If I send a fax from here, will they be able to tell who it's from?
Me: Well, if you fill out a cover sheet....
Customer: No, I don't want them to know who it's from.
Me: Ooookay. Is your name on it?
Customer: No.
Me: Anything that could identify you? Your address, social security number, things like that?
Customer: No.
Me: Do you care if they know it came from a Kinko's?
Customer: What do you mean?
Me: It's going to have our fax number on it when they get it. There's no way around that.
Customer: Oh, that's fine.
Me: Anything else?
Customer: Washington, DC is long distance, right?
Me: ........ yes.
(Oh good. An anonymous fax to DC. I just wonder what this could be.)
1) Stupid: nuuuuuuuurrrrrr.... I waited until the day before I needed these 42 different files printed out, so I can sign one page on each file, then hand them back to you so you can make copies of them. nuuuuuuuuurrrrrr.... the person e-mailing the files has been trying to send them for 7 hours. (Here's a hint, asshole. Next time, have them courier a CD to you the day before. Or drive down. It's a 3-4 hour trip, and you wouldn't have been spazzing out every five minutes for the three hours you were here.)
2) Drunk/Stoned: Dude, do you sell cigarettes/rolling papers/beer here? (Hey! Clueless fuck! This is a copy center. The Shell station is around the corner, you fucking jackass.)
3) Paranoid: This was a new one for me. Luckily, this was all on the phone.
Customer: If I send a fax from here, will they be able to tell who it's from?
Me: Well, if you fill out a cover sheet....
Customer: No, I don't want them to know who it's from.
Me: Ooookay. Is your name on it?
Customer: No.
Me: Anything that could identify you? Your address, social security number, things like that?
Customer: No.
Me: Do you care if they know it came from a Kinko's?
Customer: What do you mean?
Me: It's going to have our fax number on it when they get it. There's no way around that.
Customer: Oh, that's fine.
Me: Anything else?
Customer: Washington, DC is long distance, right?
Me: ........ yes.
(Oh good. An anonymous fax to DC. I just wonder what this could be.)
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http://myspacetv.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1985042
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What I would have loved to see at the time was the other side of things... you know, a comedic sketch showing the customers being completely insane.