Out. Means Out.

We're having a pretty high-profile event this week. It's taking place at a large auditorium and we had five hundred tickets. Free tickets.
So why, oh WHY, are people absolutely shocked that, the day before the event, we don't have tickets available?
"I'd like tickets for the event."
"I'm sorry, we're all out," I say.
The woman just stares at me.
"Are you sure?"
No, no I'm not. I'm making shit up for fun.
"Yes, we've been out for a week."
"You don't have just one for me?"
Um. Let me think about this for a sec--NO.
"They've been gone for a while..."
"Not even one?"
Oh. Dear. God. If I had a ticket? I would give it to you. So you would leave me ALONE.
Seriously, I don't think these people understand. I will do anything, really anything, to get them to go away. I'm not witholding things for fun. I am telling the truth. I HAVE NO TICKETS.
And if I did, lady, they would have gone to the twenty other people who have asked me in the last ten minutes.
OUT means OUT.