Me: “Alright, that’ll be $26.17, please.”

Customer: “Do you accept American money here?”

Me: “We sure do. And, just so you know, the exchange rate right now is even at 1.00.”

(I finish counting out the change and hand it to the customer along with her receipt.)

Me: “Your change is $23.83. Enjoy the rest of the day!”

(She stands beside my till looking confusedly at her hand for a few seconds.)

Me: “Is there something else I can help you with?”

Customer: “What is this?!”

Me: “That’s your change, ma’am.”

Customer: “Why would I want this?! Why don’t I get American change back? I’m an American!”

Me: “Unfortunately, ma’am, you are in Canada. We don’t carry American change on the tills.”

Customer: *hesitantly* “But Canada is practically a part of the States, isn’t it?”

Me: “No, ma’am, it’s not. If you have any more questions, my supervisor at the service desk will be happy to help. You have a nice day.”

(She moves off to the end of my till, slowly puts away the money, and wanders off.)

Next Customer: *jokingly* “That definitely made my day. Do you get those types here often?”

Me: “You have no idea.”

(I work in a grocery store, and we’ve just gotten some very large pumpkins for the fall season. I am a female.)

Customer: “Excuse me, is there a man working here who could help me out?”

Me: “Um, he’s somewhere around here. What did you need?”

Customer: “Well, I really want that big pumpkin, but it’s so heavy and I can’t lift it.”

Me: “Oh, I can get it for you!”

(The customer puts her hand on my arm to stop me as my male manager walks by.)

Customer: “You! Can you help me with this pumpkin?”

Manager: “Are you kidding me?! She’s much stronger than I am!”

(I get the pumpkin into her cart with ease, and she doesn’t say a word to me.)

Me: “There you go, ma’am. Have a nice day!”

This story is part of our Pumpkin Spice roundup!

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(My wife gets PMS sometimes and has a tendency to make everything my fault. I don’t mind because I love her, but sometimes it gets out of hand. I have short, curly, black hair and my wife has very long red hair. As we’re eating dinner and watching TV, she makes an angry noise. When I look over to see why, she is scowling and stabbing her food harder than necessary.)

Me: “What’s the matter, love?! Are you okay?”

Wife: “I found a hair in my dinner. And I can’t even blame you because it’s one of mine!”

Me: “Oh, uh… I’m sorry?”

Wife: *mutters* “D*** straight you should be!”

(Like many Scandinavians, we’re an atheist family, and I’ve sworn never to lie to my kids. I have never tried to convince them that there are tooth fairies, Easter bunnies, et cetera, and have instead taught them that these are just ancient customs that people follow for fun and for tradition. Our family celebrates all holidays, just not in a religious way. It’s just before Christmas; it’s snowing heavily as we’re driving in the darkness on a back road with my three young sons. Old Christmas jingles are playing on the radio, creating that warm and fuzzy Christmas feeling.)

Me: *jokingly* “Well, boys, have you been nice this year? Do you think Santa Claus is going to bring you presents or just charcoal?”

(Note: naughty children traditionally get charcoal from Santa in some countries.)

Five-Year-Old Son: *upset* “There is no Santa Claus! It’s just a fairy tale, just like Easter Bunny and Jesus!”

Me: “Well, yes, that’s true.”

(I’m quickly deprived of my Christmas spirit and start thinking, “You reap what you sow…”)

Five-Year-Old Son: “Besides, you buy the Christmas presents, not elves!”

Me: *smiling* “All the more reason not to be naughty, isn’t it?”

This story is part of the Family-At-Christmas Roundup!

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Sister: “Hey, what is the name of the Santa Claus in ‘Lord of the Rings’?”

(She meant Gandalf.)