(I’m in the waiting room of the endoscopy center, waiting for my grandma to come out from her colonoscopy. A nurse opens the door and reads aloud from a chart.)

Nurse: “Theodore?”

Old Man: “Yes?”

Nurse: “Okay, so you’re Theodore?”

Old Man: “Yes, ma’am.”

Nurse: “And you’re here for a colonoscopy today, correct?”

Old Man: “What?!”

Nurse: “A… colonoscopy?”

Old Man: “NO! My WIFE is!”

Nurse: “Oh. You’re not Theodore?”

Old Man: “You said PETER, so I answered you!”

Nurse: “… Okay, then. Is Theodore here?”

(An old man walks from the back of the waiting room.)

Theodore: “I’m sorry. I heard him answer, so I assumed another Theodore was ahead of me.”

Peter: “Well, I know one thing. I am not deaf, and she definitely said Peter first.”

Theodore: “Well, I am deaf, and she said Theodore. You may need your hearing checked, sir.”

(Due to a mistake on the shipper’s part, I need to go to the local UPS depot to pick up a package sent to me. As this is a depot, not a store-front, they only have a single desk off to the side for customer service, and today there’s an unusually long line for assistance. This happens once the person in front of me gets up.)

Employee: “Yes, ma’am. How may I help you?”

Customer: “I’d like to set up a PO box, please.”

Employee: “I’m sorry ma’am, this is UPS, not the post office. I—”

Customer: “Look, I’ve been in line for a half an hour now. You’re going to help me or I’ll get your supervisor!”

Employee: “Ma’am, I am the supervisor on duty right now, and that doesn’t change the fact that you’re at the wrong location.”

Customer: “Don’t you tell me I’m in the wrong location! I live a block and a half from here; this is DEFINITELY the right location!”

Employee: “No, it’s NOT, ma’am. This is the UNITED PARCEL SERVICE. You are looking for the US POSTAL SERVICE. Their office is across the street and down two.”

Customer: “Oh, you’re just trying to confuse me. This is the same place! This is just the union one and that’s the non-union. Now help me with my box!”

Guy Behind Me: “LADY! Do you go to a car dealer and demand to see their selection of birthday cards, because ‘car’ and ‘card’ are one letter apart? Because that’s what you’re doing here! Now get out of the line you’ve been in for less than FIVE minutes and stop harassing that poor man!”

(Somehow this was the employee’s fault, and she took another minute yelling at him about ‘letting that guy talk to me that way.’ Finally she storms off, yelling that she will ‘call President Obama on you all,’ and I step up.)

Me: “Yes, can I pick up my FedEx package? Oh, and also I’d like some of whatever pills she’s taking!”

Employee: “I think that’s the problem. She didn’t take her pills today!”

(I am a cashier at a drugstore, trying to get through my last year of university, when I see a girl in the same uni hoodie as mine enter the store. She seems to be around 18 or 19 and is holding an aftershave that usually costs around £40.)

Girl: *in tears* “I’m so sorry. I bought this a couple of weeks ago and I want to return it. I know I might not be able to because it’s opened, but is there anything you can do?”

Me: “Er… My manager is just over there; I’ll grab her. Is everything… okay?”

Girl: “No, I’m sorry. My boyfriend is at [Distant Uni], and I bought some of his aftershave so I could make his hoodies smell of him — I know that sounds strange — and he broke up with me last week, and I can’t bear to smell this stupid f****** smell anymore, but there’s loads left, and I don’t want to waste my money…“ *breaks down again*

Me: “Oh, no! I’m so sorry about that. This is my manager; could you explain that to her?”

Manager: “I heard, honey, and I’m so sorry. Give me a second and I’ll see what I can do.”

(There are a few seconds while my manager tries to refund it.)

Manager: “Sweetheart, I have some good news: I can refund you even though it’s opened.”

Girl: “Thank you so much. Do you want me to just… I mean… Should I…”

Manager: “I’ll take it from you, honey. Do you want cash?”

Girl: “C-Cash is fine, it’s okay. Thank you.”

Manager: “While you’re here, sweetheart, get some chocolate or ice cream or anything you need, on me. I got divorced last year and I needed all the chocolate I could get!”

(The girl declined, but she came in a week later with a box of chocolates and a thank-you card each for me and my manager. In my card was a phone number. Ten years after that, we’ve been married for five years, and we have a baby daughter.)

I had a tough time keeping friends as a kid because of my temper and my dark sense of humor. By middle school I was pretty much a loner. By pure chance, that ended up being the year I met the girl that would be my best friend. She was (and still is) a quirky, innocent type, sweet, kind, and really funny, but she also didn’t always get why her jokes were funny. She also wasn’t an aggressive person, always choosing to let something go rather than risk starting a fight over it. Even though we were really different, we got along great and I feel like I really grew as a person with her by my side.

In sophomore year, I started dating a guy I really liked. He seemed really nice and we had a lot of fun together. After we’d been dating a year, I stupidly agreed to sleep with him, since I was sure that we were in love and had a real chance for a future together someday.

Something changed afterwards. We still hung out like normal, but he didn’t seem as into our relationship as he was before. He would show more interest if sex was involved, but it was always a temporary solution. My friend suggested that my boyfriend and I go to an upcoming school dance together, along with her and a few people we knew. It was going to be a fun night of fancy outfits and partying. When I brought up the idea to my boyfriend, he seemed okay with the idea, and plans were made to meet up there.

When I got to the dance, I was doing great. I looked good, I felt good, and I was pumped to have a good time with people I cared about. And that’s when I walked into the dance hall and saw my boyfriend dancing and kissing his new girlfriend. I yelled at him for a bit before I had to run away in tears.

I made it to the entrance hall before I collapsed into a corner. I just wanted to die, I was so upset. My friend arrived, saw me huddled over in tears and ran to me, asking what was wrong. She gave me a blank stare as I explained. When I finished, she pulled me in for a hug before she stood back up, told me to stay put, and began walking away. Confused, I decided to follow, anyway.

In a fantastic moment I wish I had recorded, she walked right through the gym doors, straight up to my now ex-boyfriend, and slapped him. As he stood there in shock, she stared him dead in the eyes and said, “You are a bad person, and you should be ashamed of yourself.” She then turned around and walked back toward where I was standing, grabbing a cup of punch and a cookie from the snack table for me on her way. That was 15 years ago, and we are still best friends to this day.

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(I work in a stereo shop in a not-so-savory neighborhood. We see stolen radios A LOT. It’s really obvious when one is stolen. We also log EVERY serial number sold, just in case.)

Customer: “I just bought this from my friend. I need it installed.”

Me: “Okay, what kind of car is it going into?”

Client: *gives car info: an older Nissan pickup*

Me: “Well, this is from a Toyota, so we can’t reuse the parts still on it. We’re going to need new install parts. It also looks like the main radio harness is missing, as is the faceplate.”

(Faceplates are removable as a security feature. They basically cost as much as the radio does, just to prevent theft. Harnesses are almost always left behind when stolen because they unclip and thieves think ‘how much could it be?’)

Me: “Check with your ‘friend’ if he has them. Otherwise it’s $150, plus $65 for the install and install parts.”

Customer: “$150!? Are you f***** kidding me!?”

Me: “No, sir. $40 for the harness, $110 for the faceplate. I can have them here in three-to-five days; it’s a special order.”

Customer: “Well, how much is this radio?”

Me: “They’re on sale right now for $129.99. Install is the same price; I still need the same parts.”

Customer: “That’s f****** crazy! I just paid $50 for this. You’re telling me the parts cost more than a new one!?”

Me: “Well, that would be a great deal if you bought a radio with all the parts. For half a radio, it sounds like you got scammed by your friend. The parts cost so much as a deterrence to theft.”

Customer: *just stares; I struck a chord with those words*

Me: “So would you like me to order the parts? Or would you like to just get the same one installed, brand new, with a warranty, for less?”

Customer: “I’ll take the new one.”

(The customer hands me his keys and gives all his info: name/address/phone number.)

Me: “Great, I’ll give you a call as soon as it’s done.”

(He left. I ran the serial; it was sold by us. I called the client. He confirmed his car was robbed, even faxed a police report. We called the police and informed them we recovered stolen property. Moral of the story is, we called him down, he paid for the work, walked out, sat in his car (with the stolen radio still in it) and was arrested in our parking lot. Caught a thief, and sold him a radio at full price, with install. Customer who got robbed gave me a $100 tip. Not a bad day.)