O, the indignity

The photo printer has been on the fritz, so off I trudge to the drugstore to see if I can get some prints on a quick turnaround. On my second visit, the machine is still not working, so I approach an employee behind the counter.

Me: The photo machine has been closed two days in a row. Is it expected to be working again anytime soon?
She: Oh, it's not out.
Me: Are you sure? It's turned off and there's a sign.
She: No, it should be on.
Me: Okay, well how do I turn it on, then?

Other employee overhears the conversation, and interrupts.
Other (to Her): No, it's down.
She (to me): It's down.
Me: So I hear.

I know that working retail is often a soul-sucking experience, and I certainly don't expect any teenager to be perky about working a counter in a drug store. Frankly, I'm used to bad service anymore. (And when the service is noticeably good, like at Trader Joe's, I'm stunned...maybe a little fearful.) Isn't it possible, though, that just by virtue of being a primate, two synapses could rub together and make a useful thought?

Hear endeth the gripe.