Elderly woman walks into the shop, and asks if we have a copy of Kahlil Gibran "The Prophet".
A reasonable request, and we provide one instantly (From our little stash of Prophets beneath the desk) priced at a very respectable £3. (Oh yes, bargain prices).
She is very excited and tells me that she wants to send one of the poems to her grandson.
She then sits down, pulls out a pad of paper, and copies the poem out.
Saying to me "I do hope you don't mind me copying it rather than buying it."
I tell her that I am beyond the point of caring, and just proceed to bang my head against the keyboard for a while.