(A customer comes in and asks to use the phone to call a cab.)

Customer: “Can I get a taxi to the [Wrong Name] on Kingsway.”

Me: “Sir, this isn’t [Wrong Name], That’s down the street. This is [Our Name].”

Customer: “No, it’s not. Are you sure?”

Me: “Well I DO work here, unless I’ve been coming to work at the wrong place. You DID walk past the name about 20 times, but if you don’t believe me, that’s completely fine.”

(20 minutes later, a taxi comes in for fuel.)

Customer: “What took you so long? They said five or ten minutes!”

Taxi Driver: “Nope. No call for here, but there was a call for [Wrong Name] and nobody was there.”

Customer: “…Oh. I guess he was right. Can I still get a ride?”

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(I am old enough that my parents acknowledged that I don’t need my own babysitter, but I am not yet old enough yet to be left in charge of my two younger sisters. My parents leave my sisters in the care of the eldest son of one of my mom’s friends. I end up having to come along because they don’t want me home alone. The son takes the typical teenager’s approach to babysitting by treating me like a baby, despite the fact that he’s only three years older than me, and by forcing us all to go to bed at eight while he stays in the basement all night with his girlfriend. For the entire night, the only interactions he made with us were him shouting at us from downstairs if the floorboards so much as creaked.)

Sister: *gets up to go to the bathroom*

Friend’s Son: “GO TO BED!”

Sister: “I have to pee!”

Friend’s Son: “THEN PEE AND GO TO BED!”

(A few moments later my youngest sister, who is only a toddler, runs out of milk in her sippy cup. Because she refuses to go to sleep unless she has a drink next to her in case she gets thirsty in the night, I get up to get her some more.)

Friend’s Son: “GO TO BED!”

Me: “I’m getting my sister something to drink!”

Friend’s Son: “YOU ALREADY GOT HER ONE HALF AN HOUR AGO! GO TO BED!”

Me: “She’s out! I’ll go to bed when I get her a drink!”

Friend’s Son: “FINE! HURRY UP!”

(Not long after I return, my sister rolls over and creates a creaking sound.)

Friend’s Son: “GO TO BED!”

(I cough.)

Friend’s Son: “GO TO BED!”

Me: *under my breath* “I can’t wait until Mom and Dad get back home…”

Friend’s Son: “I JUST TOLD YOU TO GO TO BED!”

(Fortunately that was the only time he ever babysat us.)

(I’m standing by the edge of the mosh pit at a concert, when a young woman gets bounced at an unfortunate angle and goes flying out of it backwards. Luckily I manage to catch her under the arms before she falls down. She bounces to her feet, thanks me with a smile, and dives back in. The guy beside me scowls.)

Him: “Real typical, right?”

Me: “What?”

Him: “She couldn’t even show a little appreciation for you catching her like that.”

Me: “She did say thank you.”

Him: “Yeah, girls always say they want the nice guy and then give you the brush off, am I right? Could’ve at least hung around to talk to you.”

Me: “Why would she do that?”

Him: “So wait, you’re telling me you didn’t catch her so you could get some of that?”

Me: “No, I did it so she wouldn’t get hurt.”

Him: “Bull. What’s in it for you if she’s not all grateful and stuff?”

Me: “Well, tonight a pretty girl smiled at me after I got to hold her in my arms, however briefly. Can you say the same?”

(He gave me one last disbelieving look and stomped off. I’m betting not a lot of women, pretty or otherwise, smile at him.)

(I’m standing in line, listening to the two women behind me talk about the candy this store has placed in perfect impulse-buy position.)

Woman #1: “How do you make Star Wars-flavored jelly beans?”

Me & Woman #2: *at the same time* “They taste like The Dark Side.”

(I’m a student in a class on ethics about environmental disasters. We have to split into groups and each pick a topic. Also note that, in the previous group’s presentation, they had mentioned conspiracy theories that sprung up.)

Leader Of Prior Group: “That wraps up our presentation on hurricane Katrina. Are there any questions?”

Me: “Yeah, I though each group had to pick a different disaster. We chose Katrina first. How did you get it?”

Fellow Member Of My Group: “[My Name], we are doing Haiti…”

(Whole class starts laughing.)

Me: “Really? I was so sure… Wait! I know why, Last night I was looking at photos from my trip to New Orleans and thinking we could use them!”

Teacher: “[My Name], I know you like to argue every point I bring up, and debate is fine, but are you seriously going to tell me you confused Haiti and Katrina?”

Me: “Well, after all, they were both hurricanes.” *at this point I realize what I just said* “Yeah… I’m just going to stop talking now. I’m even the one who added the title “Haitian Earthquake” to our presentation…”

(Fast forward to the day of our groups presentation:)

Teacher: “Now, before we start, [My Name], are you sure you know what your group is presenting on?”

Me: “Of course, [Teacher]! Our group is talking about the government’s attempt to create a wormhole in order to prevent JFK’s assassination, the effects of which caused the waters south of Florida to create massive storms that destroyed both New Orleans and Haiti. After all, Katrina and Haiti were the same disaster!”