(I am seated a couple tables down from a mother with her four-year-old daughter. The daughter asks to go to the restroom, and is about to bounce out into the aisle when her mom grabs her arm.)

Mother: “Honey, look right there. Who’s that?”

Daughter: “Waitress.”

Mother: “And what’s she carrying?”

Daughter: “Tray.”

Mother: “And do you think she could see you with that great big tray in the way?”

(The little girl’s eyes go very wide, and she shakes her head.)

Mother: “You need to watch out and not get in the way of the people who work here, sweetheart. You could get hurt, and they could get in trouble for hurting you, even if it was an accident. Understand?”

(The little girl nods hard, and carefully looks both ways before starting for the bathroom. The waitress, who was bringing me my food, looks shocked.)

Waitress: “That never happens. Never.”

Me: “I bet you that mom waited tables at some point.”

(The waitress asks when she stops by to check on that family, and later tells me the mother was a waitress for three years in college, and nearly got sued for splashing hot coffee on customers when a pair of kids playing tag in the aisle tripped her!)

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(I work in a very high end grocery store, with many rich customers. I approach a lost-looking customer.)

Me: “Can I help you find anything today?”

Customer: “I doubt it; the last time I shopped here no one could help me find a d*** thing!”

Me: “Sorry about that, sir. I know where everything is, and I’m sure I can help you if you’d like.”

Customer: *sarcastic* “Oh really, you know where everything is?”

Me: “Yes, sir.”

Customer: “Pickles?”

Me: “Aisle 16B.”

Customer: “Note cards.”

Me: “17.”

Customer: “Anchovies.”

Me: “16B again.”

Customer: “Batteries.”

Me: “Next to register one.”

(This rapid fire Q&A goes on for five more minutes. I never mess up.)

Customer: “Alright smart guy, where are the shores of Tripoli?”

Me: “Libya.”

Customer: “Wow, I was just trying to throw you off there. How did you know that off the top of your head?”

Me: “I told you; I know where everything is.”

Me: “Hello, [cafe], how can I help you?”

Caller: “Hi, could you tell me what today’s special is?”

Me: “Today we have a lamb steak with rice and greek potatoes.”

Caller: “Is the lamb steak beef?”

(I work in one of several worldwide call-centers, taking new reservations and changes/requests to existing reservations with a major luxury hotel chain. Customers often think we are at the hotel they are calling, because we greet them using the hotel name.)

Me: “Good morning! Thank you for calling [hotel located in Amsterdam]. How may I help you today?”

Guest: “Hi. I have a reservation for next week for two nights in your hotel. I am flying in from New York and have a two-day layover there in Amsterdam, and I basically just have a few questions.”

Me: “Certainly, sir, I’ll answer those for you.”

Guest: “Okay. So, I have a room booked for myself for those two nights. Is the rate any different if someone else is staying in the room with me?”

Me: “No, not at all. Not unless you have booked a breakfast rate. If breakfast is included, the rate is €10 higher, if you are both having breakfast.”

Guest: “Okay good. They won’t be having breakfast.”

Me: “They? The room is a two-person maximum, sir. If you want more people in there, you have to book a larger room.”

Guest: “Well, that’s my second question: is it a problem if there are two different people joining me on the two different nights?”

Me: “Oh… no, as long as it just one on each night, then the rate is still the same. Do you have any other questions?”

Guest: “Yeah… how far are you guys from the red light district?”

Me: “Um… we are about half a mile away, sir.”

Guest: “And is it safe walking between the hotel and the district? You know where I am going with this right?”

Me: “Yes. I think I have pretty good idea, sir. There should be no issue walking between us and the district, sir. Otherwise our concierge can arrange a cab for you. Any further questions?”

Guest: “No, I think that’s all. Thank you so much for your help! Have a great day!”

(The call ends, and my coworker turns to me.)

Coworker: “Another ‘John’ going to Amsterdam?”

Me: “Yup.”

(I’m an IT tech, working on the computer in the tourist entrance to our college. As the college is rather old, and has featured in a certain series of wizard-based films, we have a lot of tour groups in the summer. I overhear this exchange between a tour guide and the tourist entrance manager.)

Guide: “Hi, I have a group of eleven people who’d like to look around. Can you tell me where the [wizard-film] was shot?

Manager: “Sure, it’s just around the corner, in the cloisters. Entry is £3 per person, unless they have university cards, or are seniors or students.”

Guide: “WHAT?! SINCE WHEN DID YOU START CHARGING? WE ONLY WANT TO SEE THE FILM LOCATION! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE CHARGING NOW! YOU’RE JUST GOUGING TOURISTS NOW YOU’RE FAMOUS! YOU NEVER CHARGED ME LAST YEAR!”

Manager: “I’m sorry, sir; we have always made a charge for vis—”

Guide: “THIS IS BULL-S***! I NEVER GOT CHARGED LAST YEAR! GET ME YOUR MANAGER, AND HE’LL TELL YOU THERE WAS NEVER A CHARGE!”

Manager: “I am the manager, sir, and as far as I am aware, we have always made a charge. If you like, I can look up when that was introduced for you, and see what it was then.”

Guide: “YOU DO THAT!”

(The manager comes inside, and goes through a long list of old ledgers on a shelf behind me. He takes the last one out to the guide.)

Manager: “Here we are sir. The earliest record of entry fees I have is for 1974. I can ring the archivist and see if she has any earlier records, if you wish.”

Guide: “…that won’t be necessary. £3 per person was it?”