(I am about nine years old. My mom and dad are helping me to memorize the states. I get through most of the states without an issue.)

Me: “Vagina, Washington, West Vagina…”

Mom: “Yes, very… wait, what?”

Dad: “Say that again. What state was that?”

Me: “West Vagina?”

(My dad is laughing and smiling.)

Dad: “Yeah. Yeah, that’s the one. ‘West Vagina.'”

Mom: “No! Not West Vagina!”

Me: “East Vagina?”

(We are about the take our first quiz of the semester. Our professor starts to hand out our quiz papers.)

Classmate: “Thank you.”

Professor: “You know, I’ve never understood why you all say ‘thank you’ when we hand out a quiz. It’s like saying thank you for the ice pick that you have to gouge your eye with.”

(I am 12 years old. I am home alone, and raiding the fridge for a snack. I find nothing except some takeout my dad has bought. Inside is an innocent looking burrito. I take big bite and it is the spiciest, most painful thing I have ever eaten. I gulp milk and eat ice, but the pain is getting worse. I go into the living room and scream into a couch pillow so the neighbors won’t think I’m being murdered. I hear my dad and mom enter the kitchen and open the fridge.)

Dad: “Hey, did you eat my burrito? It is spicy; am I right?”

Mom: “Huh? No, I haven’t touched any burrito?”

Dad: “Then who is home?”

Mom: “Just [My Name], I think.”

Dad: “Oh dear… she doesn’t like spicy food…”

(They finally find me in the living room, and calmly watch me roll around on the couch in agony.)

(I work at a pharmacy that has a drive-thru. We do flu shots and they are in high demand. We have never administered a flu shot at the drive-thru. A customer drives up to the window in her mini-van.)

Me “Good afternoon! What can I help you with today?”

Customer: “I would like to get the flu shot. Can you hurry? Because I have things to do.”

Me: “I’m very sorry, but you will have to come inside for us to administer the shot. It won’t take more than five minutes.”

Customer: “No! I don’t want to get out of my car. I’m in a hurry; I’m the customer and you have to do what I say, so you have to do it from here!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but it’s against the rules to do it at the drive-thru. I don’t think it would be very sanitary and I wouldn’t even be able to reach you from this window. You will need to come in. I promise it won’t take long.”

(The customer puts her car into gear, so I figure she is coming inside so I close the window and walk away. As I walk away I hear a blaring car horn so I go back to the window.)

Customer: “You have no right to deny me the shot! Are you trying to kill me? What if I get the flu and die? It would be your fault and you will go to jail for MURDER!”

Me: “I’m not denying you the shot, ma’am. Like I said you will have to come inside; it’s the rules. Please move so I can help the other customers.”

Customer: “NO, B****! I WANT THE SHOT RIGHT NOW AND I’M NOT COMING INSIDE! I’M NOT MOVING MY CAR UNTIL YOU HELP ME! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU ARE WASTING MY TIME! I HAVE THINGS TO DO! I AM THE CUSTOMER AND YOU HAVE TO HELP ME! GIVE IT TO ME NOW YOU LAZY B****!”

Me: “No, you need to come inside. We can not administer a shot at a drive-thru window. We have never done it that way. If you come inside I will be able to help you and it will only take minutes. Please move your car so I can help other customers.”

Customer: “NO! I’M NOT MOVING AND YOU BETTER NOT HELP ANYONE ELSE! I WAS HERE FIRST AND I DEMAND YOU GIVE ME THE SHOT FROM HERE! IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME THE SHOT I’M GOING TO HAVE YOU FIRED AND I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER GET ANOTHER JOB IN THIS CITY!”

Me: “For the last time, NO! If you don’t move your car, I’m going to call the police.”

(I start helping the other customers. The customer continues to yell, flips me off, and hits the gas. That’s when I hear a loud crash. I look to see that she had put her car in reverse by accident and slammed into the car behind her!)

This story is part of the second Drive-Thru roundup!

Read the next second Drive-Thru roundup story!

Read the second Drive-Thru roundup!

(I have been checking books back in that have been left on our returns desk and come across a new book that has been badly damaged by what looks to be coffee. When the patron comes back to the circulation desk, I show her the book.)

Me: “Good morning! I’ll check those out for you in just a moment. Unfortunately because this book has been damaged quite badly, we won’t be able to have it in our collection any more. The replacement cost will be [dollar amount]; are you able to pay now or should I send an invoice out?”

Patron: “Oh, it was like that when I took it out!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we’d never loan something in that condition, and as it was on your membership, you are liable for the damage done to it while on loan.”

Patron: “I didn’t do it! You can’t prove I did it! It must have been the person before me! I won’t pay! It’s been like that for ages.”

Me: “Ma’am, this is a new book. We only got it last month and the only person to have it before you was I. And I can assure you, I didn’t spill coffee on this book.”

(There is a long pause.)

Patron: “Um, how much was it?”