I’m in something called 4-H. We basically raise and show animals as well as educate people about them. In my county, the biggest part of 4-H is the fair every year, where we all take our animals and do shows with them and leave them there for a week so people can see them. We are still obligated to take care of them and watch over them, so most of us spend every day after school at the fair taking care of our animals. 

I’m an executive at the fair, part of the county council which is in charge of all 4-H in the county, as well as the executive board which is in charge of it for the state. I’m the longest-serving small animal shower, and around the small animal area, I’m the one in charge.

Everyone is wearing masks (because it’s 2021), and this is making it extra tiring while working out here. The small animals are kept in two rows off to the side with a rope around them, cutting them off from the outside world.

People are allowed to look at them while they stroll through the barn, but only exhibitors like me are allowed behind the rope. Exhibitors identify themselves by wearing 4-H shirts as well as lanyards, and I even have a 4-H mask for good measure.

I walk into the animal area to check on my bunnies, and I see a large group of people, mostly older people, behind the rope, walking around the animal cages, talking, and pointing at the rabbits and chickens. None are wearing 4-H shirts, nor do they have lanyards. As the person in charge of the small animals, it’s my job to deal with this.

Me: “Excuse me. Are you exhibitors?”

Visitor: “No, we are just looking at the cute animals.”

Me: “I’m sorry to say that only exhibitors are allowed back here; I’m going to have to ask you to step back out.”

Visitor: “Oh, no, don’t worry. We know one of the exhibitors, and they let us back here.”

There is no exhibitor with them, and even if there was, due to current restrictions, they’re still not allowed to invite others back with the animals.

Me: “I’m sorry, but even, so if you are not an exhibitor or owner yourself, you cannot be back here. Please leave. You can observe the animals from outside.”

Visitor: “But they said it was okay for us to come in; they own some of the animals!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but that is not their decision to make. Please leave this area.” 

They eventually leave, and I think it is over. Then, their entitled exhibitor and her parents came running up to me. 

Entitled Exhibitor: “Hey, those people were our guests. They are allowed to be in there; I let them!”

Me: “You know that’s not allowed; we have regulations.”

Entitled Exhibitor: “I said it was fine!”

Me: “Well, I didn’t! We can’t risk anyone getting sick, so only exhibitors are allowed back there! If you have a problem, take your animal and leave!”

And she did! I’m not compromising on safety because you said it was “okay”!

I am a fairly newly adult-aged person, not yet independent due to severe life complications that are outside the scope of this site. I am out with my grandparents, and they decide to have me go into the grocery store with $5 to buy some ice.

I go into the store — which, at this point, I’ve never done on my own — and go to get the ice. I go to the checkout line, and since I have a massive sweet tooth, a candy catches my eye. I decide to grab it and hope I can afford it with the ice.

Next to the big bag of ice, the candy is very small. This, combined with a look at the screen, tips me off that the cashier has failed to notice the candy. I ask as much, and the cashier confirms my suspicions and adds it to the bill. It turns out that I can’t afford both the candy and the ice with the money allotted.

Obviously, my plan is to (somewhat sadly) put the candy away, since I’m not completely uncivilized, but a nearby employee is watching all this… and decides they’ll cover the cost of the candy for me. Thank you, kind employee!

I am closing up the post office with my coworker when a man strolls in and casually places a small package on the counter.

Customer: “I need this to get to Oregon by midnight. It’s important.”

Me: “I’m afraid the fastest we could do is [super expensive third-party rate] overnight, and that would get there by tomorrow.” 

Customer: “No! This is America! You will do this for me!”

Me: “I’m afraid I cannot, sir. It is physically impossible.”

Customer: “It is! This is America! Anything is possible!”

Me: “Sir, you’re asking me to send this package from here in Florida, where it is currently 4:55 pm on a Friday, and get it to Oregon by midnight. Even if I got it onto a plane right now, it would still need to go through multiple sorting offices when it arrives. It’s not possible unless you took it yourself.” 

Customer: “But… This is America!” 

Me: “Sir, what exactly are you expecting to happen when you say that?”

Customer: “To get my own way, d*** it!” 

Me: “Does it usually work?”

Customer: “Yes! Because this is America!” 

Me: “Yes, it is, and I still can’t do what you ask.” 

Customer: *Storming out* “You’re a bad American!”

Coworker: “Please, God, no one tell him you’re Canadian. He’ll use that to justify his personal brand of madness!”

When I was in college, I worked in food service at a famous theme park that revolved around a particular mouse mascot. Back then, there was an annual event called “Night Of Joy”. Officially, it was an event where the park was closed early to the public, and Christian schools from all over came to the park for a mixture of fun and Christian music. 

In reality, it was just a bunch of horny teenagers running around banging in the darkest corners they could find in the happiest place on earth.

A coworker came up to me and just sighed.

Me: “That bad?”

Coworker: “It’s gotten to the point where [a certain dark and slow ride] had to be closed. The teens figured out it’s an eight-minute intimate, unsupervised ride.”

Me: “Well… I found a condom!”

Coworker: “Oh, my God! Gross! Have you called Custodial to come and remove it?”

Me: “I tried, but since they’re so occupied, they told me to wait. So, now, I have to babysit a condom under my table for the next twenty-five minutes while the organizers keep coming up to me commenting on how nice the park is now that the ‘worldly’ heathens aren’t around to ruin it.”

Coworker: “I’ll pray for both of us.”

My last job had us enter the customers’ phone numbers to retrieve their information to save their purchases. It was very tiring because either they would refuse and get angry, or they would tell me the wrong phone number, insisting it was the right phone number.

Almost every time, this would happen. 

Me: “Hello, what’s your phone number?”

Customer: “It’s 555-5555.”

I check to see if it’s in the system.

Me: “I’m sorry, but that number isn’t in the system. You said it was 555-5555?”

Customer: “Yes! That’s the number I always use!”

Me: “I’m sorry, it’s not in there. Could it possibly be a different phone number?”

Customer: “No! There’s something wrong with your system, or they deleted it!”

Me: “Can I try your email to try and find it?”

The customer gives an email.

Me: “I found it. It’s under the phone number 555-7523; can we change that?”

Customer: “Oh, yeah!” *Laughs* “I haven’t used that number in years!”