I’m paying at a store with two cards: my bank card for the purchase and the store’s loyalty card for promotions. I’ve set the loyalty card to give me digital receipts instead of printed ones.

I usually pay by tapping my bank card, but every so often it asks me to insert the card and enter my PIN. The terminal’s message isn’t very clear: “Please try again” can mean it needs the PIN. That’s the message I get today, so I insert my bank card into the reader.

Cashier: “You need to clean the chip.”

Me: “Oh no, it just wants the PIN.”

Cashier: “You can change that in the app.”

Me: “…?”

Cashier: “You can change it in the app so that you don’t need to enter the PIN.”

Me: “That has been done, but once a month or so, it still needs the PIN, and the card has to be in the reader.”

The payment goes through. The cashier looks sceptical, then notices the printer hasn’t produced a receipt.

Cashier: “There is no ticket. Is that normal?”

Me: “Yes, I changed that in the app…”

Once upon a time, long ago, we moved to a house with a large garden. The first Christmas we lived there, our grandparents gave us a Christmas tree with roots. It was dutifully planted in the front yard, and it grew.

A few years later, it was replanted a few meters aside, and it kept growing. It became larger than the house. Then disaster struck. Due to a wrongful trim of the lower branches, sadly, the tree died. It lost all its needles and stood there, a skeleton of its old self.

It took some time, but we finally convinced our dad to take steps to remove the tree before a storm did the job for him (he would have been very lucky for the tree to fall in such a way that no additional damage occurred; not impossible, just improbable).

Dad: “So, I accepted the offer made for the removal of the tree. The contractor will take the wood as well, so next time you’re visiting, you cannot use the tree as a landmark to find the house.”

Me: “Sure, Dad, the house I lived in for just shy of twenty years, the house you lived in for over fifty, I won’t be able to find it without the tree. Luckily, there is still the lantern pole in front of the house…”

Dad: “Oh right, I forgot the lantern pole in front.”

He lives in a cul-de-sac with all of sixteen houses…

I’m browsing a rather large stall at the local market when this happened. For the flow of the story, a lot of repetition is left out.

Lady: *Holding up a zucchini.* “Could you eat this raw?”

Me: *Hesitant.* “It wouldn’t be very tasty.”

Lady: “But could you eat this raw?”

Me: *Who eats almost every vegetable raw.* “I wouldn’t.”

Lady: *To the stall owner, who happened to arrive at the spot we are standing.* “Could you eat this raw?”

Stall Owner: *Equally baffled.* “Uh…”

Lady: “You know, I eat cucumber with some spices at my desk in the office, and I want to switch things.”

Me: *A bit exasperated and wishing it would stop, so I could buy my vegetables.* “Yes, in that case, you absolutely can.”

Lady: “How much are they?”

The stall owner points at the price tag, €3.5 per kilo.

Lady: “Yes, but how much are they per piece?”

Stall Owner: “They are sold by weight.”

Lady: “Yes, but how much is one?”

The stall owner takes the zucchini out of her hands and puts it on the scales. It happens to be a nice 200 grams (or 1/5th of a kilo).

Lady: “How much is it?”

Me: “It is one fifth of a kilo, so that is seventy cents.”

Stall Owner: *To the lady, who was expectantly watching him.* “Seventy cents.”

Lady: “Oh, cucumbers are cheaper, then…”

And after all that, she simply turned and left, ignoring the cucumbers that were available there, leaving me finally able to order.

We were with a group of friends. One of them suddenly announced she was going to Montreal in December. It took a few moments for us to react, as we were a bit flabbergasted. Not that we hate Canadians, far from it, but 5 cm (2 inches) of snow and minus 10°C (14°F) feels horrific to us, let alone a Canadian winter… 

We didn’t quite get why you would go for a casual visit, again in December. Finally, someone managed to ask:

Friend: “What will you wear?”

Traveling Friend: *A bit vexed.* “I have a winter coat!”

Friend: “You’ll need more than the light winter coat and clothes you’re used to wearing here.”

Traveling Friend: “We’re more or less at the same latitude. You’re just pulling my leg.”

She was so proud of having found low prices to fly to Canada. So she went, and complained upon her return about the wintry conditions that didn’t allow her to go out…

I’m checking out, and it is time to pay. FYI, contactless under a certain amount does not need a pin code until a certain total is reached, after which you do need your pin code to prove it is still you using your card.

I hold my card to the machine, and it beeps.

Cashier: *With a thousand-yard stare.* “Please enter your PIN code.”

I do as requested, and the machine beeps again.

Cashier: *With a thousand-yard stare.* “Wrong PIN.”

I realized I had indeed mixed up my pin codes and entered the correct pin. The machine beeps.

Cashier: *With a thousand-yard stare.* “Payment did not go through.

This corresponds with the message on the screen; I am a bit surprised, but I just use a different card. The machine beeps.

Cashier: *With a thousand-yard stare.* “Please enter your PIN.” 

Yes, it was my lucky day that both cards had reached the point that I needed to enter my PIN.  I proceed to do so, and the machine beeps, but the “good” one this time.

Cashier: “Do you need a receipt?”

Me: “No, thank you. Do you know the difference between all these beeps?”

Cashier: *A bit forlorn.* “I’ve been doing this job for too long…”