Extremely common interactions here at NIOLIT:
We buy books
only on a certain day between certain hours, but we're almost always willing to make exceptions for
time as long as it's on the correct
day (if you bring them in five minutes to closing,* however, you'll still be out of luck). This information is available through our website, on our facebook, on our bookmarks, and if you ask us over the phone. All the same, this happens at least once daily:
Customer: "I've got these books for sale."
Staff member: "I'm afraid we only buy books [day of week, hours]."
C: "But I brought my books all the way here!"
S: "But we're not buying books today. I'm not even a book buyer. I'm happy to give you a list of other bookshops that buy books."
C:
Could you at least take a look at them?
By "take a look at them," Dear Readers, the customer means, of course, that you appraise their books, tell them how much you would be willing to pay for them, and then exchange that cash amount for their books.
How precisely they believe this to be different from the book-buying that we explicitly stated multiple times we are unable to do, I am unaware.
* Also common, and, I'm aware, certainly not only to the bookselling business:
Customer comes up right as one is closing the door.
Staff: "I'm afraid we're just closing, but we'll be open tomorrow at ---."
Customer: "But I came all the way down here!
Can't I just look around?"
I'm bewildered at the mistaken idea some people seem to harbour about what it means for an establishment to be closed. Some people do seem to think that we close the doors, turn off the lights, and then sit in the dark, twiddling our thumbs and wishing desperately we had someone to talk to.
We don't live at the bookshop; most of us are as anxious to leave and get on with our lives as any other person is at the close of their work day.
I myself have one thus-far fail-safe response for customers who are particularly indignant about our refusal to stay open and serve them whenever they happen to be here:
"I'm sorry, but I need to get home to my children. Their babysitter absolutely must leave at X:XX and if I'm late my children will be all alone."
This is a complete falsehood, as I've never had any children, but since I don't think my reproductive status is either any of the public's business or relevant to whether or not I deserve to have a life, I have no moral qualms with employing it when necessary. Any of my comrades-in-retail are welcome to it, should they need it. If you happen to be male, it will probably be doubly effective in silencing your interlocutor, as men who take parenting seriously are generally regarded as heroes.