(I have just left the doctor’s office and walked to the pharmacy to wait for a prescription to be sent over. The young girl at the register is on the phone, so I wait for her to acknowledge me.)

Cashier: “I’ll be right with you.”

Me: “Okay, thank you.”

(A few minutes pass.)

Cashier: “Okay, picking up?”

Me: “Yes, it was just sent over from [Doctor]. Last name, [Last name]. Born [birthday].”

Cashier: “Hmm, doesn’t look like it’s here yet. You can have a seat and wait, if you’d like.”

Me: “I’ll do that. Thank you.”

(I take a seat and begin scrolling through Facebook while I wait. The phone rings again. A woman comes in and goes right to the register.)

Cashier: “I’ll be right with you, ma’am.”

Woman: “I just left [Doctor], and she sent a medicine order over for me.”

Cashier: *nods, covers phone receiver* “Just a moment.”

Woman: “It’s under [Woman].”

Cashier: *nods, holds up one finger* “As soon as I’m done on the phone, ma’am.”

Woman: “It should be ready.”

Cashier: *nods*

Woman: “Ugh.” *turns to me* “Can you believe this service?”

Me: “I can.”

Woman: “What?”

Me: “Well, she’s clearly busy, and you were told many times that she would be with you after her phone call.”

Woman: “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Me: “You asked.”

Woman: “The youth of today are so disrespectful! If you were my daughter, I’d have you over my knee for talking to me like that!”

Me: “Guess I’m lucky you’re irrelevant.”

Woman: “How dare you?!”

(I return to my Facebook browsing. The woman sits directly beside me, continuing her rant about disrespectful youth and poor customer service. The cashier hangs up and takes the woman’s information. Of course, it isn’t ready. She resumes her rant, pacing in front of the register.)

Cashier: “[My Name], your order is ready.”

Woman: “Where is mine?”

Cashier: “I’ll let you know as soon as yours is ready.”

Woman: “I’ve half a mind to take my business elsewhere!”

Me: “Don’t use it all in one place.”

Cashier: *trying to keep a straight face* “No copay, [My Name]. Have a good day.”

(I have a chronic illness which, sparing some of the grosser details, makes it extremely painful for me to walk when it flares up. Stairs are an outright no when this happens. One bad day while waiting for an elevator, the following occurs on the second floor of a building.)

Woman: “Hey! Are you all going up or down?”

Me: “Down.”

Woman: “Then you should just take the stairs! Don’t you know that elevators are for the disabled, elderly, and people in a rush?”

(Keep telling yourself that, lady.)

(My friends and I are playing a tabletop roleplaying game similar to “Dungeons and Dragons.” We have three players and our Game Master. We have been given a fairly standard fetch quest, gathering up a bunch of items to be brought back. One part of the quest leads us to a series of caves that requires us to swim through an underwater lake. That forces us to leave most of our weapons and armor behind. The three of us venture into the cave, armed only with what little we can carry through the water. Our wizard, though, has a magical dagger. Once a day, it can cast the spell “Stand Still.” As the name implies, the target is frozen in place, unable to move. The caverns are largely uneventful, and at last we reach the macguffin. In this case, it’s a crystal on a pedestal. I check it for traps, then pick it up. This causes a stone door to rise, opening the way. But it also reveals a cave troll! Properly equipped, it will be no match. But in our current state, it is a dangerous foe. Our wizard draws his dagger.)

Wizard: “I cast–”

Me: “Wait! Is it in the doorway yet?”

Game Master: “Uh, yeah. The troll is in the door.”

Me: “Now!”

Wizard: “I cast Stand Still!”

Game Master: “The troll is frozen, its body blocking the exit.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “You… Wait, you what?”

Me: “I put the crystal back on the pedestal.”

Game Master: “You… Oh, man. The door closes, bones snap, and flesh pops as the massive stone crushes the troll.”

Me: “I pick up the crystal.”

Game Master: “The door opens, blood and viscera dripping…”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “The door closes.”

Me: “I pick the crystal up.”

Game Master: “The door opens.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “The door closes.”

Me: “I pick the crystal up.”

Game Master: “The door opens.”

Me: “I put the crystal back.”

Game Master: “IT’S DEAD!”

Me: “Just checking!”

My parents and I go to a local restaurant for a meal out. This place is very popular, and we go there a lot; it’s got good food and it’s affordable. It is early in the week, so the restaurant is empty. We get a small table.

A man and his partner take a table behind me but tell the server they’d like to sit at [our table number]. Naturally, the server is confused, but when asked, the man says that [our table] is normally their table. Since we’re sitting at it, he then sits there glaring at us, with my mum glaring right back.

To top it off, he glares at another family who have a very young infant who can’t stop crying no matter what the mother does.

We had a laugh about this later as, as I stood up and made a show of the empty restaurant before asking if there were named tables for all the regulars.

(I’m round a friends house with a few others and we are watching a documentary about Michael Jackson. They’ve just mentioned how his dad was abusive to the family. Not long after when they’re showing them singing this happens:)

Friend #1: “You can’t beat the Jackson 5.”

Friend #2: “Apparently their dad can.”

(We all looked at [Friend #2] in shock.)