(I work for a large computer company. I have a manager who puts a summary of everyone’s activities for the previous day up on the wall. If you log in late, leave early, or take too long a lunch, she will highlight your name and the offending numbers. I always prided myself on never having my name highlighted. Then one day I walk by and notice my name is highlighted.)

Me: *to manager* “Why is my name highlighted?”

Manager: “Because of this.”

(My manager showed me that the previous day I had taken a lunch of 1 hour, 0 minutes, and 1 second. To this day, I still hold the record for the shortest long lunch in the company’s history.)

(I’m walking down the main club street in my city and I see a woman crying and clearly in pain. She suddenly bends double and clutches her chest. I stop and ask if she needs an ambulance. After a quick chat to make sure she’s not just drunk, I dial 999.)

Me: “Hello, I need an ambulance to outside [Business] on [Street]. I have a woman here with chest pains and breathing trouble.”

Operator: “I don’t have the address. Which city are you in? What’s the street name again?”

Me: “It’s [City] on [Street] outside the [Business]. It’s okay; it’s the main street. The drivers will know it.”

Operator: “Do you have a postcode? I can’t find the location on my map.”

Me: “No, I don’t have the postcode, but it’s one of the main streets.”

(I give her a lot more landmarks, including a well-known hotel opposite us.)

Operator: “I need a postcode.”

Me: “Oh, for goodness sake, just send the driver to where I’ve JUST said. The ambulance station is only a minute or two away! They’ll know where it is.”

Operator: “OK, is the woman conscious?”

Me: “Yes.”

Operator: “Is she breathing?”

(Yes, she’s conscious, breathing, and standing up. She’s breathing funny and is complaining of chest pains.)

Operator: “Can she speak?”

Me: “Yes, but she’s distressed and moaning in pain.”

Operator: “Has she taken any drugs in the past 24 hours?”

Me: *to the woman* “Have you taken any drugs?”

Woman: “Yes, prescription antibiotics called [Name]. I was told if I had this reaction I was to go back to hospital.”

Me: *to operator* “Yes, [Name].”

Operator: “Is she conscious?”

Me: “YES!”

Operator: “Has she taken any drugs in the past 24 hours?”

Me: *getting a bit frustrated* “YES. I don’t know her personally; she’s a stranger but she’s just told me she HAS taken antibiotics called [Name] and she’s been warned about these side effects. Are you sending the ambulance?”

Operator: “Yes, but I’ll need to know where you are.”

(At this point, a couple of police officers who have been watching from over the road saunter over to see what’s going on.)

Operator: “Is she conscious?”

Me: “YES! She’s standing up and moaning in pain.”

Operator: “I’m going to need to you take her pulse… I’ll teach you to do that.”

Me: *shoving my phone into an officer’s hand* “Here’s a police officer but for GOODNESS SAKE SEND AN AMBULANCE!”

(The police officer then went on to recite the exact information I’d just given, just as the ambulance arrived!)

(My mother-in-law is in assisted-living apartments, and is very happy at Easter because they are going to have Easter church services at the facility.)

Mother-In-Law: “They were putting together the program but had to redo it.”

Me: “Why?”

Mother-In-Law: “It seems they’d included a couple of hymns as part of the service and the know-it-all administrator had volunteered to type up the hymns from a hymnal.”

Me: “Why was that a problem?”

Mother-In-Law: “She didn’t understand that the verses are printed above the music and the same music is used for each of the four lines, so she just typed the words in the order they appeared, which totally scrambled the whole thing. I overheard the conversation…”

(Below is the conversation, as described by my mother-in-law:)

Know-it-all Administrator: “Well, I’m not a musician! Who on Earth could be expected to know this stuff?”

Events Coordinator: “But [Administrator], you go to church every single week which is why you don’t work Sundays. Don’t they sing in your church?”

Know-it-all Administrator: “Well, of course, they do, but I just hum along because I never could figure out the song book!”

(This is back when I am a student. I live in Ann Arbor, Michigan. My roommates and I frequently like to drive through Detroit to the nearest border crossing into Windsor, Ontario, Canada. It is less than an hour’s drive. A quite famous Canadian coffee-shop chain, known for its donuts and donut-hole-like small pastries, has not yet expanded its operations into the US.)

Roommate #1: “You know what I want? [Donut holes].”

Me: “Ooh, [Donut holes]! You know I’m always up for [Donut holes]!”

Roommate #2: “[Donut holes] do sound good. We could go; it’s not that far. Hey, [Roommate #3], you want to come with to get [Donut holes]?”

Roommate #3: “To get … [Donut holes]? You mean, like to Canada?”

(This brief attempt at being the voice of reason falls through, and all three roommates and I pile into my car for the drive, about 40 minutes at 1 am. We get to the guard booth.)

Border Guard: “National origin?”

Me: “We’re all Americans.”

Border Guard: “Where do you live?”

Me: “All of us live in Ann Arbor.”

Border Guard: “Destination?”

Me: “Windsor.”

Border Guard: “Length of visit?”

Me: “Um, I’m not sure. Half an hour, something like that? Less than an hour for sure.”

Border Guard: *raising his eyebrows* “Purpose of visit?”

Me: “We really need some [Donut holes]!”

(He laughs at that and waves us through. We obtain our lovely little balls of goodness and head back home, which of course entails another stop.)

Border Guard: “National origin?”

Me: “We’re all Americans.”

Border Guard: “Where have you been in Canada?”

Me: “Just into Windsor.”

Border Guard: “How long were you in Canada?”

Me: “About 45 minutes? Something like that.”

Border Guard: “Uh huh. And the purpose of your visit?”

Me: *with my very best deadpan wide-eyed serious look* “We really, really needed some [Donut holes]!”

(Behind and beside me, my roommates beamed and held up our boxes of [Donut holes], which are pretty distinctive. And then we have our pièce de résistance…)

Me: *holding up another box* “Look, we brought you guys a 20-pack!”

(This would never happen today, of course; too much trouble to do this on a whim, and the guards probably wouldn’t be allowed to accept it, either. I hope the world’s gotten safer, because it’s sure gotten less fun.)

This story is part of our Canada Day roundup!

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(In 2012, I am working at the end of the Titanic exhibit next to the wall of names of those who lost their lives. Next to the wall, is a sign saying that Jack and Rose from the movie are fictional characters, and were not actually present on the ship.)

Patron #1: “Did you know that Jack and Rose were real live people?”

Patron #2: “Oh, wow! I didn’t know they actually existed!”

Patron #1: “Oh, yeah! But the only reason they’re not on any lists is because Jack won his ticket and Rose changed her name!”

Me: “Ladies, if you’ll notice the sign next to the wall of the lost, you’ll see that they were actually fictional characters that never existed.”

Patron #1: “What? You lie! THEIR LOVE WAS REAL AND SO WERE THEY!” *storms out of the exhibit*