(I work as a ride operator at an amusement park. My job is checking restraints before the ride starts. The ride I work on is a roller coaster with several loops in it. One day I have the following conversation:)

Me: “Sir, could I have you pull down your lap bar and buckle your seat belt, please?”

Guest: *gives me a blank stare*

Me: “Excuse me, I’m just going to…” *pulls down lap bar and buckles seat belt for him*

Guest’s Friend: “Dummy, why are you making her job harder?”

Guest: “Wait. I thought the seat belts were optional!”

(When I was in high school, being or acting “geeky” was still considered “uncool.” The first couple years were a nightmare. They enjoyed bullying me for being new and for my “nerdy” appearance. It wasn’t until my last year in the school that I earned respect from my classmates and had my own circle of close friends. After a two-week break, I return to school with a new, more modern haircut, which helps me feel a bit more confident in my own skin. As I walk down the stairs during our lunch break, I see a group of elementary-school kids waiting in in a line on the opposite side of the stairs. A teacher who is very popular with most students due to his friendly, casual teaching style, starts walking up and stops midway to greet me.)

Teacher: “Hello there, [My Name]! Good to see you back. There’s something different about you, though.”

Me: “Oh, I just went to the salon the other day and decided to get this new haircut.”

Teacher: “That explains it! It looks great!” *while the little kids are looking at us* “Yeah… Your old haircut made you look a little immature, you know? It hid your features! Now you definitely look like a senior that’s about to graduate!”

Me: *surprised he would mention my appearance* “Thanks?”

Teacher: “Like I always say… There’s no such thing as an ugly girl, just one that doesn’t take care of her appearance!”

Me: *shocked and embarrassed he said in front of impressionable kids* “Wait… Who thinks I was ugly, or that I don’t take care of myself?”

Teacher: *stares at me in surprise*

Me: *as the little kids look at us* “Ugliness comes from the inside, and I’ve never considered myself to be ugly. You don’t have to look a certain way to be considered healthy or be socially accepted. Don’t you think?”

Teacher: *as he starts walking up away from me and the kids* “Yeah, yeah, of course! I was just joking!”

My Friends: *who were in the corner waiting for me to walk down* “About time you stood up for yourself!”

Me: “How dare he? I just didn’t want the little kids to think that was an okay thing to say.”

(After that, that teacher avoided me like the plague.)

(My dad and I are the customers at this hardware store known for their orange apron uniforms. An eldery lady with a moderate accent comes up to us. It is apparent that English is not her native language. Note that I am wearing a university shirt and shorts and my dad is wearing a white long sleeve shirt and work pant and we are not employees of said hardware store.)
Lady: Excuse me what does this mean? (She points to a sign that states “20% off all cabinet items in-stock”)
Dad (being polite): It means that that all the cabinets and relate items are 20%.
Lady: What does “in-stock” mean?
Dad: It means that all of the items here are 20% off.
Lady: What does “in-stock” mean?
Dad: In-stock means that they have it in the store at the moment.
Lady (points to a cabinet set): Is this in stock?
Dad: Yes that set is in stock, and so that one and that one and all of the items here in the store.
Lady: Oh, Okay. Thank you.
Me(looking at my clothes): Do we really look like we work here, dad?

(It’s my first day at a sleep clinic and, despite that I am one of the few non-bilingual technicians, they gave me a patient who ONLY speaks Spanish. Luckily, my supervisor is aware of this and is going to translate for me.)

Me: “Okay, sir. These wires go on your legs, so please slip them through your shirt and pants until they come to a little below your knees.”

Supervisor: *translates in Spanish*

Patient: *drops pants, then stands there expectantly*

Me: “…”

Supervisor: “…”

Me: “What… What did you tell him?”

(I don’t think the language barrier was the only communication malfunction.)

(I’m sitting in the kitchen with my parents. My dad just recently made a Facebook account.)

Dad: “Will you marry me?”

Mom: “What?”

Dad: “On Facebook! Will you marry me?”

Mom: “Twenty-five years of marriage, and it doesn’t count for anything unless we’re Facebook official?”

Dad: “Yes!”

Mom: “Well… I’ll have to think about it.”

(They never became “Facebook official.”)