(Our bookstore does special ordering, so we get packages almost every day of the week. To show our appreciation for the delivery company’s hard work, I go in with cookies from our local bakery, which are in a clear display package with a bow on top.)

Clerk: *looks worried* “…Can I help you?”

Me: “You can deliver this to your break room.”

Clerk: “Uh… I’ll have to get my manager.”

(A minute later…)

Manager: “I’m sorry; we can’t.”

(I’m a bit confused, so I assume there must be a rule about home-baked goods or something.)

Me: “It’s okay; it’s from [bakery]. See? It’s still sealed.”

Manager: “But we can’t ship things that aren’t in a secure box.”

Me: “No, it’s a present for you guys! To eat here!”

Manager: “Oh…” *looks as if she’s about to cry* “…thank you!”

(It turns out the manager had just been on the phone with a customer who was mad that a driver hadn’t come out to her isolated farm house for a pickup; note that we were having a blizzard that day. The clerk who misunderstood me was brand new, and doing his first week at the counter in the week before Christmas. We all had a laugh over confusion and cranky customers.)