Our city has what’s called a “river valley,” which is basically a network of paths either in close proximity to or right along the major river that runs throughout the entire city. It’s a great place to go for a walk, birdwatch, go for a photoshoot, or exercise, because no matter where you live, you don’t have to go far to get away in nature. Some spots are pretty secluded, so you don’t even hear any city or traffic noise.

A few years ago, I was out for a run on one of the many paths and I approached a group of people. A couple of them were carrying a very large black bag with something obviously somewhat heavy inside of it… and it looked like a body bag! As I passed them and glanced behind me, the people carrying the bag were wearing balaclava masks! I thought for sure it was for some film production or something, and I kept glancing at the group to see if I could see cameras or anything. I didn’t, and I carried on with my run, somewhat panicked.

After I turned around and headed back — there was only one way back to where I needed to go — I saw the group again just further up from where I’d first seen them. This time, I could easily see a camera set up on a tripod, and it was clear that the group was working on filming something. I kind of laughed and waved as I passed them, but they all just laughed and laughed at me!

I get how it may have been somewhat amusing to them, but for a 25-year-old female in the middle of a run unable to see the context of the situation at first, it was definitely a bit unnerving.

(I am observing a class of second graders shortly before Valentine’s Day.)

Student: “Who’s Cupid?”

Me: “Well, Cupid is a baby angel who has a bow and arrow, and if he shoots you with it you fall in love.”

Student: “I wish Cupid would shoot my mom so that she’d love my dad again.”

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(My roommate works outside of the city, about an hour’s drive away. She decides that she wants to get a dog, and the other two roommates and I agree to help take care of it during the day when she’s away. On Monday, the dog is having some stomach trouble. We watch her closely but determine that she needs to go to the vet on Wednesday. My roommate contacts the vet to let them know that I will be bringing the dog by. I drop the dog off, and then return a few hours later when called to pick her up.)

Me: “Hello, I’m here to pick up [Dog] on behalf of [Roommate].”

Front Desk: “Great! She’ll need to take these pills for nausea.” *hands me the pills, and brings the dog out on a leash*

Me: “Has she had the pill for today? Is there anything I can or cannot feed it to her with?”

Front Desk: “I didn’t handle her case; let me get the vet.” *goes to the back, then returns a few minutes later* “I’m sorry, but the vet is with another patient right now. I’ll pull up her file, instead.” *pulls up the file on the computer* “It says that you need to keep an eye on her.”

Me: “What do you mean by ‘keep an eye on her’? What do I need to watch for? And does it say anything about the pill or the foods she shouldn’t have?”

Front Desk: “I can’t tell you that for privacy reasons. The vet has contacted your roommate; you’ll need to talk to her.”

Me: “My roommate is at work right now and might not be able to respond to calls or texts for a few hours. Could you at least let me know what I need to watch for over the next four hours until she’s home?”

Front Desk: “I can’t tell you about anything else on her file for privacy reasons.”

(Frustrated, I take the dog and start walking to my car. I realize that I have no way of knowing if she’ll be able to handle the ride home without an accident, as the vet hasn’t given me any information about what’s wrong or what they’ve given the dog. I turn around, go back into the clinic, and hand the leash back to the woman at the front desk.)

Me: “Here’s [Dog] back. Without knowing any more than I did when I brought her here, I don’t feel comfortable taking her home. I don’t know what she’s had, how to care for her, or what will happen when we get home. Frankly, I don’t know why you’re even releasing her to me if you don’t feel that I have the right to that information. You’ll need to contact [Roommate] to come and get her, if you can get a hold of her at work.”

(I texted my roommate to give her a heads up about the situation, including the name of the woman that I had dealt with at the front desk. Thankfully, she felt I’d made the right move leaving the dog at the clinic and was able to pick her up after work. She also contacted the clinic to express her anger about how they had handled everything, and had my name along with our other roommates’ added to the account.)

(At my place of work we sell various appliances, including vacuums, but no parts.)

Customer: “Hey. Where are your vacuum filters?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t carry any parts or filters for our vacuums.”

Customer: *storming straight to the vacuums* “Never mind. I’ll just find them myself.”

(Suffice to say, I had to take a moment to realise what just transpired. I didn’t follow him, but I wonder how long he spent looking for those filters.)

Caller: “I need copies of my statements! I need them right away. How do I access them?”

Me: “Are you set up to receive your statements electronically, sir?”

Caller: “Yes, I am. Since November of 2015, I think it was.”

Me: “Then you’re already receiving your statements by email as a PDF attachment.”

Caller: “I get my statements, I look at them, and then I move them to the trash folder. Then, my trash folder empties. I need the statements for my taxes!”

Me: “…”