(The store where I work has a coffee booth near the express lane, where I am working one day. Customer #1, an elderly man, comes to my register with a small coffee. He puts a dollar, two quarters, and four pennies on my counter.)

Customer #1: “It should be $1.54 for this coffee, right?”

Me: “I think so. Let me check.”

(I ring it up and with tax it comes to $1.59.)

Me: “Oh, sorry. Looks like it’s actually $1.59. You were close though!”

(The man frowns and pulls out a wad of bills. He has twenties, tens, fives, and several more dollar bills.)

Customer #1: *muttering* “I might as well give you a twenty to get a nickel!” *stuffs all his money back in his pockets* “You can just keep the d*** coffee!”

(He storms off, leaving me speechless. The next customer stares after him.)

Customer #2: “Goodness! What was his problem?”

Me: “He was a nickel short for his coffee and didn’t want to give me another dollar instead.”

Customer #2: “Is that what all the fuss was about? Shoot, I could have given him a nickel!”

Me: “I have some dimes in my pocket, but I don’t think he would have accepted that either.”

Customer #2: *shaking her head* “Shame. It seems like he really could have used that coffee!”

(I am shopping to get some polos for my mom and my little brother, who are at a concert. I am a 20-year-old woman; however, my voice makes me sound younger. I also love a particular robot franchise. I am searching the toy aisle for a figure that I don’t have, when I approach another customer in the aisle.)

Customer: *huffs, turns to her husband* “Look at her. Can’t keep them together.”

Me: *looks at her*

Customer: “Yes, I am talking about you! You shouldn’t be having children at your age!”

Me: “What?”

Customer: “And how can you afford to spoil your kid? You can’t get a decent job like that!”

Me: *realizing what she is implying* “Actually, I can spoil my kids.” *reaches into my shopping basket to pull out a can of cat treats* “See?”

Customer: *crosses her arms*

Me: “This…” *pulls a buildable figure off the rack* “…is for me.”

Customer: “So immature!”

(I am used to getting criticism for liking the robot franchise, which is aimed at younger boys.)

Me: *shrugs* “So?

(Just then, the woman’s son peers from another aisle.)

Customer’s Son: “Mommy, I can’t find them with the Legos.” *looks at me* “Is that [Character]?”

Me: “Yes, it is!”

Customer’s Son: “That’s the one I want!”

Customer: *turns to face away*

Me: *kneels down to hand it to her son* “Do you have [Other Character]? He goes with [Character].”

Customer’s Son: “Really?”

Me: “Yep! They and [Third Character] make a group known as a trine. They’re best together.”

(The woman’s husband grabs the other character’s box as the woman sulks away.)

Customer’s Son: “Thank you! Sorry Mommy was mean. She said [Franchise] is for little kids and I’m a big boy, but now I know it’s for big girls, too!”

(My friend is an only child. He doesn’t have much knowledge of female anatomy. We’re talking about my childhood home, which my parents are considering selling.)

Me: “I think it’s a shame that they have to sell it, because my placenta and my sister’s placenta are buried in the garden.”

Friend: “Your parents BURIED your PLACENTAS in the GARDEN?”

Me: “Yes. What else would you do with them?”

Friend: “I thought that after birth, the placenta slithered back up…”

(I burst into laughter. Once I’ve managed to calm down, I try to reassure him.)

Me: “Actually, what you said isn’t that bad. Another friend of mine used to believe that women only had two holes down there.”

Friend: “They don’t?!”

(I am an English literature professor. It’s the first day of class. I’ve spent about half an hour discussing the course contest, the reading lists, and evaluation.)

Me: “The first novel we’re going to read is…”

(Suddenly, a student stands up, looking confused from his sudden realization.)

Student: “Wait! This isn’t advanced calculus?!”

(The student runs out the door, while the rest of the class is laughing.)

(My husband is home sick from work. He is an avid gamer, and ends up playing online with his friends most of the day, with short breaks to interact with me and our baby boy. This conversation occurs when I’ve put our son in bed and my husband’s friends are done playing for a while. My husband comes over and hugs me.)

Husband: “My wife, where have you been all my life?”

Me: “In here, taking care of our son.”

Husband: “Really? You weren’t in the other room?”

Me: “Only when I was putting [Son] in bed for naps.”

Husband: “Oh, yeah. I was wearing headphones all day.”