(I live in DC, and often visit the Smithsonian museums. I also look quite young.)

Security Guard: “Hey, you! You’re not allowed in here!”

Me: “Why? Have I done something? I just walked in!”

Security Guard: “You have to be at least 16 to come in on your own.”

Me: “I’m 17, so I guess I’m fine then.”

Security Guard: “Uh, no, you’re not. Now walk back out before I detain you and call your parents.”

Me: “But I’m 17! Look, I can show you—”

Security Guard: “No.”

Me: “But look, I have my—”

Security Guard: “NO!”

Me: “But it can prove—”

Security Guard: “NO!”

Me: “Seriously? Will you please just—

Security Guard: “NO! No excuses! You’ve gone too far. Let’s go call your parents.”

Me: “As I was TRYING TO SAY: I have my driver’s license on me! Right here! See? I’m 17!”

Security Guard: “So you are. Well, you may proceed, ma’am, and welcome to the Smithsonian.”

Me: “…are you serious?!”

(I’m shopping for pet supplies at my local store when I overhear a conversation.)

Customer: “Excuse me, miss?”

Employee: “Yes, ma’am? How can I help you?”

Customer: “My son’s gerbil just died. It was only two years old. He’s been completely miserable ever since.”

Employee: “Oh… I’m sorry about that. Did you want to look for a new pet? Our small animal section is right over here. We have hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs—”

Customer: “Yes. But I don’t see much point in getting an animal that’s just going to die in two years. Don’t you have any animals that don’t die?”

Employee: “…excuse me?”

Customer: Animals… that… don’t… die. Do you have any?”

(The employee gives her a blank look.)

Customer: “Do you have them or not?!”

Employee: “Um, I’m afraid all animals die eventually, ma’am. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

Customer: “Fine! I’ll just go to [rival store], because you people have nothing but inferior products here!”

(The customer storms out of the store, leaving the bewildered associate standing there by herself. She makes eye contact with me from across the aisle, and we both start cracking up.)

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(It’s almost dusk at the gift shop I am running at the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. A tourist couple approaches.)

Woman: “Where is the best spot to watch the Canyon at night?”

Me: “Well, anywhere along the walkway is good, but the sun’s going down very soon.”

Man: “Yes, we want to be here when they turn on the lights.”

Me: “…lights?”

Woman: “Yes, so we can see it at night.”

Me: “Umm, the Canyon is over a mile deep at this point, and the northern rim is over a mile across from here. There aren’t any lights in it for nighttime.”

Man: “Then how do you see it at night?”

Me: “…basically it’s the big blackness out there.”

(I am at the pharmacy picking up my prescription. I am standing in line behind a very elderly lady.)

Pharmacist: “Hello, ma’am. What can I do for you?”

Elderly Lady: “I am picking up my prescription. It’s under Mrs. [last name].”

(I overhear the elderly lady, and realize that she has the same last name as I do. This is not a totally uncommon name, but it doesn’t happen too often.)

Pharmacist: “Okay! Here we go I think it’s… huh…”

(The pharmacist looks confused as she picks up some pills.)

Pharmacist: “Can you tell me your first name please? I don’t think I grabbed the right one.”

Elderly Lady: “Sure, it’s [first name].”

(By a crazy coincidence, this is my first name too! At this point the pharmacist widens her eyes in shock as she stares at the pill box in her hand. She starts to stammer.)

Pharmacist: “But… um… I don’t… uhh… how?”

Me: “Um, I think those might be mine. I have the same first name and last name. Those are my birth control pills.”

Pharmacist: “Oh thank GOD! I thought I was in the twilight zone!”

Elderly Lady: “Oh dear! No wonder! No I don’t want THOSE!”

Me: “Thank you for calling [Airline]; this is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Caller: “Yeah, I want to book a flight from here to Los Angeles.”

Me: “Okay, what city are you departing from?”

Caller: “I want to go to Los Angeles.”

Me: “From where?”

Caller: “From here.”

Me: “What city are you in?”

Caller: “The same as you.”

Me: “I’m in Baltimore, Maryland. Is that where you are?”

Caller: “No. Can’t you tell from my phone number?”

Me: “We have no way of knowing where you’re calling from. If you tell me what city you’d like to depart from, I can look up the flights for you.”

Caller: “Well if you don’t know where I am, what good are you?” *click*

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