I am in line for a register behind a girl in her twenties and in front of a couple in their sixties. Everyone around me seems very tense, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s something I’ve done. Then, the old man behind me speaks.

Old Man: “Disgusting.”

Old Woman: “I can’t believe it.”

I subtly sniff my armpit. The old woman laughs and pats me on the arm.

Old Woman: “Oh, sweetheart, not you. That… thing… in front of you.”

I look up at the girl in front of me and finally see what their problem is. The girl’s makeup and wig aren’t hiding the fact that she has an Adam’s apple and some light stubble on a very strong jawline. She is also incredibly uncomfortable, shifting back and forth on her feet.

Me: *Playing dumb* “What?”

Old Man: “Oh, just look at him.”

Me: “Where?”

Old Woman: “Him! Right in front of you!”

Me: “The cashier?”

Old Woman: *Annoyed* “Oh, for heaven’s sake! That one right in front of you.”

I appear to have a sudden epiphany.

Me: “Oh!”

Old Man: “I can’t believe it.”

Me: “Yeah. Crazy, right?”

Girl: *Turning red* “I-I’m sorry…”

Me: “That hair is f****** awesome.”

The girl looks at me, wide-eyed.

Girl: “M-Mine?”

Me: “Yeah, yours! It’s gorgeous!”

Old Woman: “Stop it, now! He’s mentally ill and you’re encouraging him!”

Me: *To the girl* “I’m jealous. I stopped dyeing my hair years ago and it still looks like s***. I’m about to shave it all off and start over.”

Girl: “Um… I… I got it from this place… downtown?”

Me: “Can you write it down for me?”

Old Man: “Disgraceful!”

Me: *Turning to the old couple* “What’s disgraceful is your attitude toward a fellow human being.”

Old Woman: “What?!”

Me: “Take your elastic pants and go play bingo.”

The old couple abandons their cart and storms off.

Girl: *Quietly* “You didn’t have to do that.”

Me: “Yes, I did.” *Quietly* “It was kind of fun.”

The girl laughs.

Me: “I’m [My Name].”

Girl: “I’m [Guy’s Name]— Er, [Girl’s Name].”

Me: “I like either one.”

Girl: *Pauses* “Do you really like my hair?”

Me: “I really do.”

Girl: “Yours is nice. Are you really going to shave your head?”

Me: “Eh. I don’t know. I’ve thought about it. It seems easier than trying to repair and grow and wait and blah, blah, blah.”

Girl: “Well, I’m going to [Shop Downtown] next. Maybe if you’re not busy, um…”

Me: “Let’s go!”

I spent the next few years watching a beautiful transformation and building a lifelong friendship.

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I sell stuff for display in retail stores, such as risers. A customer inquires, so I send them an inventory list that clearly shows that I have about twenty cylinder risers and thirty cube risers of various heights and finishes. They order six cubes all in the same height and finish.

I have them sent to the customer, and I get a call when they arrive.

Customer: “You sent me the wrong ones!”

I check the emails between us and check with the warehouse, and everything is in order. I assume it can only be a factory mistake.

Me: “I can’t identify the problem, but we’ll send the right cubes immediately at our cost, and I’ll have the other ones picked up, as well.”

Just to make sure, I get my factory to open the boxes we are sending and make sure they are the right forms.

When they get them two days later, they call back again.

Customer: *Screaming* “You sent me the wrong ones again! Are you inept or just stupid?”

Me: *Holding my tongue* “I don’t understand. I had the warehouse check the boxes and make sure the cubes were, in fact, the cubes you requested.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t want the square cubes. I want the round cubes.”

Customer: “Please! You must help me! You only have medium-sliced bread and I must have thick-sliced!”

Me: “I’m afraid that what we have on the shelves is all we have in stock.”

Customer: “But you don’t understand! My horoscope told me I must have thick-sliced bread today or I would suffer horribly!”

Me: “I… uh… Let me fetch my manager.”

My manager is fetched and the… situation… is explained.

Manager: “We have whole loaves that aren’t sliced at all.”

Customer: “But it needs to be thick-sliced!”

Manager: “If you think about it, it’s one slice of bread that is incredibly thick. This must have been what your horoscope alluded to.”

Customer: *Eyes widening* “You’re right! It’s the thickest of all! This will save me! You must be a Taurus!”

I know my manager’s birthday and therefore know that he’s a Sagittarius.

Me: “Actually, he’s a—”

Manager: “—Taurus! Yes, you got me. I am most definitely a Taurus.”

Customer: “I knew it!” *Trots off happily*

Manager: *To me* “Sometimes you just gotta lean into the crazy.”

A couple of women come and ask me to make copies of a photo. It’s a photo of one of the two women — on her wedding day, I’m assuming. It’s a picture of her in her wedding dress, her back to the camera, and her reflection in the mirror.

Customer: “Can you flip it around and make it so I’m not in the mirror? So, I’m looking at the camera?”

I made sure I had heard her correctly, and then I kindly told her that I could not.

My coworkers are unusually rowdy and immature today — playing practical jokes with work equipment, swearing within earshot of customers, congregating so our managers have to break them up to get them to do their jobs, and just being a general headache to work with. They begin making fun of a customer who has an unusual gait, though he is thankfully out of earshot. We all complain about the bad ones, but he was a model customer and there’s no reason they should be making fun of him.

Coworker #1: *To me* “Do you see him? It’s so weird!”

Me: “So he moves his hips when he walks. It gets him where he needs to go, doesn’t it?”

Coworker #1: “But it’s so weird!”

Me: “Leave him alone. Some of us like to show our fruitiness.”

Coworker #2: “Wait, are you gay?!”

Me: “Yeah?”

Coworker #2: “What kind?”

What did she want me to say? The kind who fell head over heels for her female best friend at age eighteen? The kind who wore nothing but T-shirts and flannels in high school? The kind who doesn’t think you should be making fun of how someone gets around?