A café-bar in my city has a backgammon evening each week, and I visit sometimes. I had heard another player refer to someone with a name that translates to English as “Mr. Furious”, but I did not pay much attention.

One evening, I arrived, set up my board hoping another player would turn up soon, and ordered a beer. A few minutes later, another player entered. I didn’t recognize him, but I nodded over to him because he was carrying a backgammon board. He came over, and we said hello and introduced ourselves. I suggested a seven-point friendly match for starters, and he agreed. He was happy with my checkers, dice, board, and so on, even complimenting me on them. A very nice guy.

We started playing, and it was clear he was a good player. However, I noticed he was becoming tense. He was gripping his dice cup strongly, he made a sharp sigh when the dice went against him, and sometimes he rolled the dice so frantically that they bounced off the playing area and he would have to roll again.

In one game, he was very far ahead, and I had almost no chance. But then, I rolled a joker. In backgammon, a “joker” is a dice roll that is much more favourable than other rolls. With more luck, I won that game, and I tried to engage in small talk, but he didn’t reply. He finished his beer and put his glass back on the table heavily. I started to get nervous.

In the next game, I rolled another joker, and I immediately apologized, and again he did not reply. I sensed he was extremely angry and was worried about how he would react — especially when he picked up his empty glass. I thought he might glass me, but he simply had forgotten he had finished his beer. But he put it down so heavily I thought it might break.

Even when the dice were not being unkind, he still seemed angry. He continued to roll his dice heavily, and once he had to roll four times until his dice would stay within the board.

Sometimes when a player is angry with the dice, they become paranoid and play irrationally (called “steaming”). Strangely, he continued to play rationally, even though he was very, very angry by now. I was behind again in a later game, but then I rolled another joker (I was by then praying that I would not) and managed to squeeze a win in that game and the whole match. I did not say anything and was ready to move quickly in case he started throwing things around or even hitting me. However, he immediately left the café-bar without a word.

By then, other regulars had arrived, and I asked them if that had been “Mr. Furious”. They said yes and told me several players just refused to play him. I got another beer and drank it quickly as I did not feel like playing another match that night, I was so shaken up. I said goodnight to everyone and dived down the metro.

I’m working at a pretty popular sushi joint in my town. I’m relatively new here, but I have a lot of experience in food service. A man and his wife are leaving their table. I hop out to pick up their dishes, and I notice the man is wearing a baseball hat that says, “Birds aren’t real.” This conspiracy became a bit of a meme on a popular social media app, so I assume it’s a reference to the joke.

Me: “I like your hat!”

Customer: “Do you know what it means?”

Me: “Yeah, it’s… a joke?”

He pointed at me like he was about to accuse me of something, then said, “Look it up,” and walked away with his wife. I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who actually believed it.

One day, I get the following email from a local government agency that helps people back to work.

Agency: “Hi, [My Name]. Could you give me the contact name you have for [Employment Skills Training Organisation], please? I just want to ensure they get you to us. Thanks, [Official].”

I have never contacted them, but they sound like they already know me. As it happens, I am actually job hunting now, but I’m an engineer looking for a senior technical or management position — not something I would contact either this agency or the training organisation about.

They have the right email address, which is “[My First Name] dot [My Last Name] at [email company] dot com”. I don’t have a particularly common name, there are a couple of ways of spelling my first name, and people routinely spell my last name wrong with extra Ls, an N instead of an M, etc., but this one is completely correct.

I look them up, and their office is only about a mile down the road from where I live, so I ring the sender to see how they got my email address. Maybe someone forwarded my details to them by accident?

Me: “Hello, I’ve just had an email from you about an appointment. I’m sorry, but I don’t recall contacting you before today. How did you get my email address?”

Official: “That’s strange. Are you [My Name]? Do you live in [Local Area]?”

Me: “That is my name, but I actually live just down the road in [Adjacent Area]. Funnily enough, I am looking for a new job, but I’m actually a senior engineer at [Famous Technical Company], so don’t know why you would have my details.”

Official: “Is your email ‘[My First Name] dot [My Last Name] at [email company] dot co dot uk’?”

Me: “No, it’s ‘[My First Name] dot [My Last Name] at [email company] dot com’.”

Official: “Oh, I see! Sorry, I must have mistyped the email address.”

Me: “Hang on! Are you telling me there is another [My First And Last Name] just a mile down the road from me? He’s got almost the same email address? And he’s also job-hunting?”

Official: “It certainly looks like it.”

Me: “Wow! Well, please let him know that his namesake wishes him all the best of luck!”

I used to shop in the area where this office was located all the time, so I could have passed by my younger “self” at any time and never known it!

A customer comes up to me looking confused. They appear to have no mobility issues, and as far as I can tell, they have no learning or mental impairments. (I could be wrong!)

Customer: “Excuse me. We’re trying to get to the men’s clothing department.”

Me: “That’s up on the first floor, sir.”

That’s the “second floor” to the rest of the world.

Customer: “Yes, I saw that on your very helpful directory. I can’t get up there, though.”

Me: “The escalators are just here, sir.”

I point literally next to me.

Customer: “They aren’t working.”

Me: “Yes, they have stopped this morning for maintenance.”

The customer steps on the first step of the escalator. Nothing happens, obviously — this is a long time before energy-saving escalators that stay still until they sense a person on them — so he just stands there, almost comically, for a few moments just looking at me expectantly.

Customer: “This is the problem I had earlier.”

Me: “You can still go up the escalator, sir. They’re not working but they’re not closed.”

The customer looks at the escalator, then at me, then at the escalator, and then at me again.

Me: “You can just use them like they’re stairs, sir.”

Customer: “I don’t understand.”

Me: “Just… put your foot on the next step up?”

I am about to explain that we also have a lift, but then he nervously raises one of his feet and ever so delicately places it on the next step up. He looks at me expectantly again.

Me: “That’s it, sir. Now just keep doing that.”

The customer again goes back to staring at the stairs and then at me again, looking a bit helpless.

Me: “Sir, we also have a lift at the back of the store.”

Customer: “Yes, I think that might be best.”

I pointed the lift out to this customer, who briskly walked over there.

Later on, at lunch, I was speaking to a colleague who told me about the strange customer she saw in the lift who was just standing there, staring at the buttons, not knowing what to press or what to do. She had to press “2” for him.

He might still be wandering the store…

I added someone completely at random on my Facebook because she had made a lot of thought-inspiring comments on a number of posts I had seen.

I had her on my friends list for the better part of six months or so before we had this conversation one day.

Friend: “Well, my girlfriend [Girlfriend] said…”

Me: “That’s funny… I have a sister named [Girlfriend].”

Friend: “Haha! Does she live in New York City?”

Me: “Actually, she does.”

It turned out IT ACTUALLY WAS MY SISTER!