(We’re two French girls visiting Italy. We stop at a restaurant where we have been served by a nice young man whom my friend immediately has a crush on. Though he seems to know the menu by heart, I keep asking him many questions to have him by our table.)

Me: “Excuse me, do you have a menu for the desserts?”

Waiter: *smile* “Well, I am the menu.”

My Friend: *confessing* “I’d definitely have him as a dessert!”

(My son is sitting on the sofa, reading a book.)

Son: “Mum, I found the meaning of life!”

Me: “Oh, really? What is it?”

Son: “It’s right here!”

(He walks over to me, shows me the dictionary, and points to the word ‘life’.)

(At the fast food restaurant where I work, most of my coworkers are in high school.)

Manager: *to coworker* “I need you to stay late and close. [Another coworker] called in sick.”

Coworker: “I can’t. I have to study for a test I’m taking tomorrow.”

Manager: “But I need you to stay. What’s more important, school or this job?”

Coworker: *stunned* “Finishing high school is more important!”

Manager: “Fine, have it your way. But with that attitude, you’ll never amount to much!”

Employee: “[State disability office], how can I help you?”

Me: “Hi, I got a rejection letter in the mail in the mail for my disability. I talked to my therapist about it and she said there was supposed to be a mental evaluation during the process. I didn’t go in for any evaluation. They only called me to ask about my contact information and reason for applying for disability.”

Employee: “I don’t get it.”

Me: “I applied for disability and I just got a rejection letter. When I talked to my therapist about it, she said the department was supposed to send me for a mental evaluation with someone I don’t normally go to. That didn’t happen. The Department of Social Security only called me one time and it was to verify my contact information. I was just wondering if they skipped a step.”

Employee: “I dunno. They rejected you.”

Me: “I understand that—”

Employee: “If you got a letter in the mail that says you were rejected, then you don’t get disability. Appeal it!”

Me: “Is there someone else I can talk to?”

Employee: “No there ain’t! You can hang up and try again!”

Me: “Alright, moving on. I went to fill out the appeal online and it asked about a Wage Earner. I looked up what that was and it said that it was a parent or spouse who has social security credits. Now I filed my own claim but I do have a working spouse. Did I fill out-”

Employee: “No that’s you. How old you?”

Me: “25.”

Employee: “Ain’t got nothin’ do wit him! Leave him out of this! He ain’t the one sayin’ he disabled!”

Me: *giving up* “Alright, thank you.”

Employee: *click*

(The store’s co-owner and I are manning the till when a pair of customers arrive. They seem to be a married couple. There is no one else in the store.)

Woman: “Oh, rabbits! Look at the rabbits. I want a rabbit.”

Man: “No. You have guinea pigs already. You can’t have both, they’ll fight.”

(She pouts, and he goes to the rodent aisle, leaving her behind. She stares at the rabbit cage for a few minutes.)

Woman: “Is this a boy rabbit or a girl rabbit?”

Me: “That one’s female, but we have another in a different cage which I don’t know the gender of. I can check if you want.”

Woman: “Oh yes, please!”

(I get the other rabbit, which is younger and fluffier than the one she was looking at before. The co-owner shows me how to sex it and we establish that it is male.)

Woman: “He’s so pretty!”

Me: “Yeah, he’s a cute little fella, isn’t he?”

Woman: “I’ll take this rabbit!” *she holds out her arms for the rabbit*

(I think she just wants to cuddle it for a little while, so I show her how to hold it properly and leave her to it. A few minutes later, the man comes back to the cashier and she runs over to him.)

Man: “You can’t have that rabbit. Put it back.”

Woman: “No, please! They no fight!”

Man: “Yes, they will. You can’t have it.”

Woman: “No, I want it!”

(She clutches the poor rabbit tightly and buries her nose in its fur, stomping her feet like a child.)

Man: “Put it back now.”

(The woman walks away from him, burying her face even deeper into the fur. He trails after her, telling her sternly to put it back while she keeps her back to him, muttering ‘no, no, no’ over and over, eventually running out of the store and into the carpark.)

Co-owner: “Excuse me, but could you please stay inside the store while handling our animals.”

(She freezes, allowing the man to catch up and steer her back to the rabbit’s cage, which he opens.)

Man: “Put it back in there now.”

(At this point, she notices that we do have a male guinea pig housed in the same cage as the rabbit. It was fighting with the other male pigs, and there where no other cages available. She blows up again.)

Woman: “See! See! I take this rabbit, they don’t fight! They don’t fight!”

Man: “I don’t care. Put the bloody rabbit back right now or I will get rid of the guinea pigs and you will never have another pet!”

(She whines, stomps her foot again, and then dumps the rabbit back into it’s cage while staring accusingly at the man.)

Man: “There, done.”

(She wails and stomps, her arms crossed over her chest. He says nothing and she runs to their car. The man then pays for his guinea pig food, and leaves with a look of sheer ‘please, kill me now’ plastered across his face.)

Me: *to the co-owner* “Letting her hold that rabbit was a bad idea, wasn’t it?”

Co-owner “Probably.”

(For any concerned, the rabbit was fine, and it found a sane home later that week.)