After working in retail for enough time, you get used to hearing buzzwords. Buzzwords are often words that people decide they want without sparing any thought to what they actually mean. Here is one of my favorite buzzword situations while working in the pet retail industry.

Customer: “I’m looking for the natural dog treats.”

Me: “Most of our treats are single-ingredient and are pretty natural.”

Customer: “No! The natural ones.”

Me: “Um, well, here’s a treat that’s just freeze-dried beef. Nothing else?”

Customer: “Don’t you know your own product at all?! That’s not the natural ones!”

At this point, the customer looks around and sees dog treats with chemical additives, powders, and colors.

Customer: “There they are! See?!”

I looked at the bag, and it said “Natural Flavors” among the other not-so-natural ingredients.

I have my grandfather and his much younger business partner as a client.

Partner: “Your grandfather’s Yahoo is broken.”

Me: “His Yahoo? Do you mean the email account has a problem, or is the website down?”

Partner: “Yes, his email. You have to fix it. Do you have a few minutes?”

Me: “I live in Toronto, remember? He lives over two hours from here.”

Partner: “No, I mean over the phone. You tell me, and I’ll call him and tell him what to do. I think Yahoo has a virus.”

Me: “You mean you think his email was hacked?”

Partner: “No, a virus. He can’t log into his email. You reset his password, and he can’t log in. I can log in using his email and password, but the Yahoo on his computer must have a virus. He took it to one of those shops, and now his Yahoo doesn’t work.”

Me: “Are you sure he isn’t typing his new password in wrong?”

Partner: “No, that’s ridiculous. It must be a virus. Can you, like, Google a virus?”

Me: “Uh, yeah. I’ll call you back.”

I have a coffee and check my schedule to see if I can fit a trip out of Toronto to see my grandfather over the weekend. When I call to see when would work…

Partner: “It works! Everything is fine. Problem solved, and your grandfather is relieved.”

Me: “Good! I’m glad the virus is gone.”

Partner: “Don’t be silly. It was the password. He wasn’t typing it in right. Your grandfather’s very old, you know.”

I have an early morning ultrasound scheduled. I get there, check in on the tablet, and wait my turn. The receptionist at the check-in station calls us up one by one.

Receptionist: “Andrew!”

There’s no response.

Receptionist: “Andrew!”

There’s still no response.

Receptionist: “Is there an Andrew here?”

No one answers, so she moves on.

Five minutes later, a man comes in on his phone. Something tells me this is the missing Andrew.

Andrew: “Hi, I’m Andrew. You called me?”

Receptionist: “Okay, go ahead and have a seat, and—”

Andrew: “But you called me.”

Receptionist: “Yes, but you were not here, so you went back on the waiting list. If—”

Andrew: “But you called me.”

Receptionist: “But you weren’t here. Go sit down and I will call you again.”

Andrew sits down, typing furiously on his phone. It rings, and he steps out again. I make eye contact with another woman waiting in the room.

Receptionist: “Andrew?”

Andrew is on his phone outside again, not listening to anything.

Receptionist: “Andrew!”

Other Woman: “Dumba**.”

Receptionist: “Andrew?”

Other Woman: “He’s back outside on his phone.”

Receptionist: *Deep breath* “Okay.”

She calls the next person, and Andrew returns. 

Andrew: “Now this is ridiculous! You’ve called me twice and refused to take me! I have an appointment!”

Receptionist: “Then you need to be present for it. I have called you twice, and both times, you have been out of the room on your phone. Please stay in here and wait to be called.”

Andrew: “This place is bulls***.”

Receptionist: “Sir, sit down or leave.”

His phone rings AGAIN.

Andrew: “I have to take this.”

Receptionist: “If you leave this building again, I will remove you from our system.”

Andrew: “You don’t have the authority to do that!”

Someone else in a white coat — probably a doctor but I don’t recognize him — appears. 

White Coat: “I will remove you. Sit down, silence your phone, and wait your turn, or get out of my office.”

Andrew sits down, face bright red. No one in the waiting room makes eye contact with him. He does finally get seen, since we are checking out at the same time. He is very curt with the receptionist there, too. 

Andrew: *As he is walking out the door* “I’ll tell everyone on Yelp to avoid this s***hole!”

Other Woman: “Hopefully you will, too!”

I’m lying in bed, rewatching a popular TV show about the zombie apocalypse involving a small-town sheriff in the state of Georgia. My husband is normally squeamish and not into “horror” in any form, but he has become bored in the other room and come to the bed to pester me. Side note: I am of Spanish origin and he is a Native Canadian.

Husband: “What’s this show?”

Me: “[Show]. I’m rewatching it from the beginning. It’s only a few episodes in. Want a recap on how it starts and you can watch with me?”

Husband: “Eeeeugh, no, thanks. Not interested.”

Me: “Okay.” *Pauses the show* “Want me to change it?”

Husband: “No, that’s fine. I’ll just play on my phone.”

Fifteen minutes later:

Husband: “So, there are other people out there? They want the guns, but they belong to the sheriff guy? Why would he just leave them there?”

Me: “Oh, you’ll love this next part, but let me fill you in first.”

Husband: “No, no, no. I don’t wanna know. Forget I asked.” *Rolls over* 

I look at our mirror mounted on the dresser a bit later and notice that he has strategically placed his head to see the TV, but from my angle, it looks like he’s scrolling on his phone

Husband: “Oh, my God, they were acting so tough, but they had their ab-way-lah in there? Sheriff guy was right! What if they had shot them all?! The poor ab-way-lahs! They’d be alone!”

Me: “The what?! You mean abuelas?”

Husband: “You know what I mean. I can’t make the Spanish noises. The R comes out la-la-la-la.”

Me: “You mean rrrrrrrrrr.” *Rolling my tongue*

Husband: “Shush! I’m watching the sheriff man! Who is that guy? Where are they? How did they get into a city? Where’re the rest of them? Aren’t there some kids? Wasn’t the sheriff man in the hospital?”

Me: “Fill you in?”

Husband: “Fill me in.”

[Colleague #1] finishes work at 4:00 pm.

Colleague #2: *Pissed* “Is she sleeping with the boss or something? She’s always leaving early!”

Assistant Manager: “Yeah, I keep bringing it up with [Manager], but he tells me to drop it.”

Me: “No, she always gets here before 8:00 am. We just don’t see her working until we get here.”

In fact, most of them casually stroll in sometime after 9:00 am.

The manager (for whom [Colleague #1] works directly) goes away for a trip, leaving [Assistant Manager] in charge.

Assistant Manager: *To [Colleague #1] with a sneer* “You can’t leave before 5:00 pm. You’re not getting away with that with me.”

Colleague #1: “Okay, let me go and talk to our CFO and see about overtime rates. I work from 8:00 am until 4:00 pm. I manage my time well and get all my work done.”

Assistant Manager: “You’re salaried! No overtime rates apply!”

With perfect timing, the manager calls from overseas, and I gleefully transfer the call to her. The best thing about a fairly open-plan office is that you can hear everything from the reception desk.

Colleague #1: “I’m so glad you called. [Assistant Manager] is insisting that I stay until 5:00 pm, with no overtime pay or reason mentioned. Have you got a particular task requiring me to stay?”

She pauses and then hands the phone to [Assistant Manager].

Colleague #1: “He wants to talk to you.”

She kept to her eight-to-four!