(My parents and I are having a conversation happens over dinner. We’re talking about Sean Bean.)

Me: “It’s true, though; Sean Bean always dies.”

Dad: “He died in Game of Thrones, and Lord of the Rings.”

Me: “It’s like he’s type-cast for it.”

Mom: “I haven’t seen Mr. Bean in a few years, either.”

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(On Saturdays, my boss buys pizzas for all employees, but wants to cut costs so has an employee pick them up instead of getting them delivered. Note: I am a 110 lb. female and this takes place in Detroit.)

Boss: “[My name], can you go pick up three pizzas from [pizza place]?”

Me: “It’s kind of far away, and I have a lot to do. Can you send someone else?”

Boss: “Everyone else is busy, too. And there’s one on the corner a few blocks over.”

Me: “Do you mean the one on [street name] and [street name]? I can’t go there, at least not alone.”

Boss: “Why the h*** not?”

Me: “It’s a dangerous neighborhood and I’m not comfortable. I’m a small teenage girl. A girl about my age got raped in that area just a few days ago. I don’t want to end up raped or murdered while picking up pizza. I’d gladly go get one from the farther one if I stayed on the clock and if I wasn’t busy with so many dog baths.”

Boss: “Well, I’m your boss and I say you have to go get the pizza from [closer pizza place].”

(At this point, one of our vet techs, who is male, overhears our argument and steps in.)

Coworker: “Wait, what, Dr. [boss]? You want to send a tiny girl into the middle of Detroit alone just to save a couple bucks delivery fee? No. I’m not even busy! I can go get the pizza!”

Boss: “I want [my name] to do it because I told her to!”

Coworker: “But it’s not safe!”

Boss: “But. I. Told. Her. To.”

(I ended up staying at the clinic and my coworker went to get the pizza without telling our boss. To this day, he thinks he got what he wanted.)

(I am waiting on a table being used by a family: a mother, two teenagers, and one younger son. I am taking the order from the mother; everyone else has given their order.)

Me: “…and what side dish would—”

(The young son hits me in the back of the head. I find this funny, as the kid is so young.)

Me: “Hey buddy, what’s the matter?”

Child: “Where the f*** is my food?”

(I look at the mother in expectation of her to do something.)

Mother: “Well? Are you going to answer him?”

(I stare at the mother in disbelief.)

Me: “Well… the kitchen needs to cook your food for you, which takes time. I haven’t left the table yet, which means they don’t know what you would like to eat; it hasn’t even started being cooked yet.”

(The mother just kept going like nothing happened.)

(It is tax season and our office is extremely busy. My boss meets with a very talkative client, his wife and their bored toddler late on the weekend in our office. It takes several hours to complete their tax return forms, but the family finally leaves with smiles. They seem very pleased with our work. The next morning we get an irate phone call.)

Client: “I am unhappy with the return you have provided me, and I want a refund!”

Boss: “Sir, I’m sorry to hear you aren’t satisfied; what is the problem?”

Client: “It cost too much!”

Boss: “I’m sorry; I don’t understand. When you were here, I went over all the fees with you. You agreed to us doing more work, and filing additional forms. You received $3,800 more in tax refunds, correct?”

Client: “Yes, that is correct.”

Boss: “And you only paid $300 extra to get that additional $3,800 refund. You are coming out ahead $3,500, correct?”

Client: “Yes, that is correct.”

Boss: “Then I don’t understand what the problem is.”

Client: “The problem is, I went home and did my return online. It cost a great deal less. I do not need your return anymore, and I am wanting a refund!”

Boss: “Excuse me?”

Client: “Yes, it was very easy to do.”

(My boss is livid, but is trying to stay calm and professional.)

Boss: “It was easy because I did all the research and work. I explained everything to you, and you had a copy of the return I had completed with you. I’m sorry; the return has already been filed with the government and we can’t pull it back, so we cannot give you a refund.”

Client: “THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! You have a satisfaction guarantee! I am not satisfied and I DEMAND A REFUND!”

Boss: “Sir, you were perfectly satisfied with our product. What you are saying is like going to a restaurant and happily eating, going home, cooking dinner and eating again, and then demanding that the restaurant give you a refund because your cooking was cheaper! We will not refund your money!”

(Several months later, we receive notice that the client is being audited by the IRS for making false statements on his return. We also find out that the past year he has filed illegally and received a tax return for several thousand dollars that he did not earn. If he is found guilty, he will be severely fined, and possibly jailed.)

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(This story takes place in the late 1990s and I was at a bus stop waiting for my connection from the university. There are other students walking around with pamphlets talking to other students.)

Girl: “I would like to take this time to talk to you about birth control and sexual responsibility.”

Me: “Thanks, but I don’t need to worry about that.”

Girl: “This is very important. You could catch a disease or get a girl pregnant.”

Me: “I understand the danger, but I’ve got it handled.”

Girl: *condescendingly* “And just what do you plan to do to keep accidents from happening?”

Me: “I’m waiting until I get married.”

Girl: *sputters a moment* “Oh…uh. That works too, I guess.”