Manager: *whispering* “Someone pooped in the pool.”

Me: “What!”

Manager: “I know. I saw two little brown things and… yup, it was poop.”

Me: “Gross!”

(He calls the maintenance guy to come and scoop it out, and add some more chemicals. Later, after they have both left, I’m by myself checking a large group of high-schoolers, and they go and have a pool party. Things get out of had soon and they start skinny dipping, which is NOT allowed, but kids will be kids. After, they pass by my desk.)

High School Guy #1: “Wow, man. That was crazy, yo!”

High School Guy #2: “Yeah, did you see when they took off their clothes?”

(The girls from their group blush and giggle.)

Me: “Yeah, good thing that we cleaned that poop up before you skinny-dipped!”

(Their faces were priceless. The girls went to shower and the guys guffawed!)

Caller #1: “Hi, I’m a bride who has a block of rooms for my wedding. However, my friends have been calling and they’ve been told that they don’t have any more rooms! Can you check?”

(I check and tell her what the computer says: that they still have plenty of rooms in their block.)

Caller #1: “Huh, that’s weird. Oh well, I’ll just text and tell them to call you to book! Is that okay?”

Me: “Sure.”

(She thanks me and hangs up. Hours later, I get a call from one of her friends, to book a room under the wedding block. But he wants to book a room for a week.)

Me: “The wedding block is only for two nights. So if you’re to book for a week, then you have to pay full price.”

Caller #2: “I see, and how much is the price?”

Me: “Wedding block’s rate is [price]. Regular rate is [higher price].”

Caller #2: “I see. Well, I’ll talk to my significant other and we’ll call you back.”

Me: “Okay.”

(He hangs up and hours later, he calls again and we go through the SAME EXACT conversation!)

Me: “Wait, did I talk to you a while ago?”

Caller #2: *mysteriously, stifling laughter* “I dunno, have you?”

Me: *internal sigh* “Okay…”

(He decided to talk it over with his significant other again and hung up. I think I know why they had been having problems booking! I hate wedding parties.)

(My husband and I are having lunch with his elderly parents and their friend at a small, family-owned Chinese restaurant. This restaurant is noted for using reusable chopsticks — more on that later in the story. The purpose of the lunch is for me to help their friend get her cable bill lowered. I have worked various call center and debt collection jobs over the years, so I am very good at negotiating with these companies. Although this friend is in her 60s, she has been very sheltered her entire life and doesn’t understand much about the world. Her husband also left her a very significant sum of money when he died.)

Me: *to friend* “All you have to do is tell the cable company that you are an elderly widow on a fixed income and that you are having a little bit of trouble paying the bill.”

Parents’ Friend: “But that is a lie! My mama always taught me that you tell the truth at all times!”

Me: “It’s not a lie: you are an elderly widow who is on a fixed income.”

Parents’ Friend: “But a white lie is still a lie!”

(The restaurant owner has brought out our food. My husband and I both ask for chopsticks because we spent a lot of time in Asia while he was in the military and we both love chopsticks. Much to our surprise, the in-law’s friend decides to ask for chopsticks.)

Me: “I didn’t know that you learned how to use chopsticks?”

Parents’ Friend: “No, I’m not going to eat with them; I want them to use as a pokey stick for a sewing project that I am working on.”

(The restaurant owner hands us the chopsticks.)

Me: “You know those are reusable…”

Parents’ Friend: “But I want them!”

Me: “Uh… no. I’m not going to let you steal from a restaurant that [Husband] and I go to all the time!”

Parents’ Friend: “But my sewing book says to use a chopstick to poke out the corner of a seam!”

Me: “You still can’t take them!” *this sheltered old lady looks like she is about to cry* “Anyway, how is taking something from a small business any different than telling a borderline white lie to one of the biggest cable television providers in America?”

(My mother-in-law, who I really don’t get along with, decides to pipe in.)

Mother-In-Law: “Why can’t you let [Friend] just take the chopsticks? You know she has depression!”

Me: “Yeah, and I have Bipolar Disorder, PTSD, Asperger’s Syndrome, and ADD. So, your point is? Mental illness isn’t an excuse for stealing! Plus, if she has enough money to continue paying her cable bill, she definitely has enough money to go [Major Retailer] and buy one of those sticks for $5! I will not allow her to embarrass [Husband] and me at a restaurant that we go to all the time!”

Mother-In-Law: “But she needs it for sewing!”

Me: “And that matters why?”

(My mother-in-law then looked like she was about to cuss me out and stood up. I stood up also. My father-in-law decided to ask for the check and ushered his wife and their friend out of the restaurant. When my husband and I got out to the car, we both said that his parents’ friend shouldn’t be living independently because her decision-making is so poor.)

Our church had to move due to renovations and our new chapel does not have enough classrooms. My brother and I were in our confirmation class, sitting up on the stage, near a crucified Jesus.

We were talking about the deadly sins, envy specifically. Our head teacher and his assistant were acting out two women walking by each other. When we discussed how women actually judge each other, our teacher accidentally said, “She has some ugly a**…” and stopped himself in immediate horror, turning to look at Jesus with a horrified expression. Immediately after he said it, the whole class burst into laughter.

(We offer layaway and sometimes allow customers to have more than one at a time. This particular customer whom I recognize is paying off one layaway, paying on another, and starting a new one on a busy sale day, so the counter is surrounded by customers.)

Me: “So, you would like to pick up your coat, pay on your other layaway, and put these items into layaway?”

Customer: *furiously chomping on gum* “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, would you like to pay for those separately or all in one transaction?”

(I’d prefer to run a credit card once rather than three individual times.)

Customer: *drops a crumpled pile of cash on the counter that is not enough for the total*

Me: “Okay, how would you like me to do this?”

Customer: *condescendingly over her glasses* “Is it too complicated for you?”

Me: “…”