I work at an observatory. A school is visiting, and while the kids are having a great time, one of the chaperones seems like he doesn’t want to be there. I am assisting the astronomer.

Astronomer: “Now, Saturn’s rings are only a few million years old! That might seem old, but on an astronomical scale, that means they’re super young!”

Chaperone: “That’s complete horse-s***! Nothing out there is older than the Earth! God said so! ‘In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth!‘”

Astronomer: “Sir, please don’t use that language. I like to interpret that passage as saying the Heavens came first, and then the Earth. In that sense, regardless of how old you think the Earth is, the Heavens can be much, much older.”

Chaperone: “Oh, yeah?! Well, that’s what your science books tell you, but I only need one book!”

The other teachers are embarrassed and trying to shush the chaperone. Based on one extra embarrassed-looking child, he might be one of the parents.

Chaperone: “I knew this trip was a bad idea! We should take the kids back to the school.”

One of the teachers approaches the chaperone.

Teacher: “I’m not an astronomer, but I am pretty sure the world revolves around the sun, not you. Be quiet or leave.”

He was quiet, even during the part about the Big Bang happening thirteen billion years ago.

If you know anything about New Zealand, you should know about our birds. We have multiple smart, playful, and above all, CHEEKY birds. You probably have even heard of the one I’m about to talk about, the Kea, most often known for their love of taking apart cars.

At the nearest zoo to me, they have recently added a walk-through aviary with airlocks for this mischief-maker on wings. The zoo is partnered with our conservation department, and a lot of our natives are here for breeding purposes or (the little blue penguins) because they can’t be released due to injury.

During this visit, we watch the Kea carefully tear apart some enrichment for the treats within, and we listen to the keeper talk about their habits and their intelligence — considered to be on par with a three-year-old human.

A little later on, we come to look at them again, and now they’re being weighed! It is a hilarious scene, and we are delighted to be able to watch. We all notice that the keeper is taking down the notes on a heavily padded digital tablet.

Me: “Oh, wow. That’s a big case you have on that thing.”

Keeper: “Hah, no kidding. We need it. If I put this down for a second, these guys will go for it.”

The keeper showed us a few beak-marks on the edges, chuckling.

We continued to watch as she tried to coax one of the birds out of a spot it was napping in, and, as we humans do, put the tablet down for a split second on the surface beside her thigh.

INSTANTLY, a bird on the other side of the enclosure RACED across the floor, running over my friend’s foot, in order to grab the tablet.

No destruction was to be had, thankfully, but we still laugh at how eager that Kea was to get to their desired chaos.

Client: “I need your advice on something. I’m putting an event program together, and I want to include a speech from one of the speakers, but when I print it, the speech is small, blurry, and unreadable.”

Me: “Let me get some details. First, how long is this speech?”

Client: “It’s a two-page PDF.”

Me: “And I’m assuming the program is a regular eight-and-a-half-by-eleven folded in two?”

Client: “Yes.”

Me: “Is there other content on this program?”

Client: “Yes.”

Me: “You realize that fitting two pages of text into a space that is at most a quarter of a page will be next to impossible, right?”

Client: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes, trust me.”

Client: “Oh. Well, what about this? What if I print the speech out and photocopy it with — wait for it — with the size reduction, onto the printed program? Would that work?”

Me: “No.”

I’m shopping at a local grocery store. The shortest line leads to a register with a prominent sign at the start of the line: “This register does not accept cash at this time.” I’m planning to pay by card, so I get in this line.

Lo and behold, the customer in front of me tries to pay with cash.

Cashier: “I can’t accept cash at this register.”

Customer: “What the f*** is wrong with you? Why wouldn’t you—”

Cashier: “Can you read English?”

Customer: “Huh?”

Cashier: *Slower* “Can you read English?”

Customer: “Of course I can! The f*** does that—”

Cashier: *Suddenly loud and aggressive* “THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE?!”

I watch in shock as [Cashier] steps away from the till and toward the back of the line, grabbing the sign.

Cashier: “Read this!”

Customer: “Why the—”

Cashier: “READ THIS SIGN! Out loud, right now!”

Customer: “…’This register does not accept cash at this time.'”

Cashier: “Do you know what that means?!”

Customer: “I—”

Cashier: “DO YOU KNOW what that means?!”

Customer: “It… means you can’t pay with cash here.”

Cashier: “Did you read this sign before you got in line?!”

Customer: “…No.

Cashier: “WHY DID YOU NOT READ THE SIGN? If you can read English, you have no reason not to read this sign! Why would you get in line at a till and not read the sign at the start of the line?!”

The customer says nothing more, only picking up their purchases and moving to another line. The cashier puts the sign back and storms back to the till.

Cashier: “This is why I’m leaving this job today!”

I work at a gas station in a pretty fancy/bougie part of town. I work with the night manager from ten at night through to six in the morning. I’m relatively new, so I’m still learning about the quirky little processes that are always unique to certain places of work.

A customer pulls up around 1:00 am.

Customer: “I want $10 of gas on tank three.”

He tries to hand me a hundred-dollar bill.

Me: “Do you have anything smaller, or a card payment? I can’t break that.”

Customer: “That’s all I got. It’s legal tender, so take it and figure it out.”

Me: “If you got a bit more gas, I could—”

Customer: “Nope, not going much further, so I don’t need you making me buy more than I need. Take my legal tender and figure it out.”

At this, my manager steps to the side and opens up a locked cupboard that has always been marked as “revenge rolls”. I’ve had yet to ask why. They begin to take out rolls of coins, adding up to $90. It’s a lot of coins, and it takes over almost all the counter between the customer and me.

Customer: “What the f*** is this?!”

Manager: “$90 change, as you’ve requested.”

Customer: “I can’t take all those f****** coins!”

Manager: “You want $10 on tank three? Take my legal tender and figure it out.”

The customer swears a little more but accepts the ridiculous amount of coins, storms out, puts $10 in his tank, and drives off.

Me: *To my manager* “Now I know why they’re called ‘revenge rolls’. Rolls of coins.”

Manager: “Yup. I save them for special customers. You wanna come in here at 1:00 am and demand change from a hundred? You f****** got it!”

My eyes catch something else in the cupboard.

Me: “You actually have some spare tens and twenties in there, too?”

Manager: “For those customers who say ‘please’.”

I may have needed the job for college, but because of that manager, I stayed a little longer in the role than I had to.