(We’ve been closed for around fifteen minutes. All the exterior building lights, parking lot lights, and signs are off. Half of the dining room lights are off, and most of the chairs are up on the tables. The doors are locked, but I am holding one open for the last customers to exit, so that I can make sure it closes completely behind them. Before they are even all the way through the door a woman comes up and tries the other door which is closed and locked. When she can’t get it to open, she pushes inside through the door the customers are currently leaving through, squishing me and the exiting customers. I quickly move in front of her.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we are closed for the evening.”

Woman: “No, you’re not.”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we are.”

Woman: “That’s okay; I just have to go to the bathroom.”

(She starts to shove past me.)

Me: *forcefully* “No, ma’am. We are closed. You need to leave.”

Woman: “Fine! Maybe you should learn to lock your doors if you are closed!”

(She storms out.)

Me: “That’s what I was trying to do!”

(I’m sitting In my room, watching a popular TV show that had a third season come out of July 4th. Just as things start falling off walls and flying around in the show, a photo flies of my wall and falls to the floor making a huge noise.)

My Boyfriend: “Will?!”

Me: “If that light starts flickering, I’m sleeping at your place tonight…”

Boyfriend: *playing a video game on his phone* “I livered—“ *leveled* “—up!”

Me: “You’ve got to be kidney-ing me.”

Boyfriend: *silence*

Me: “That joke wasn’t organ-ic?”

(I am trying to help a customer find out what she backed up onto her external hard drive.)

Me: “Go ahead and open any folder.”

Customer: “I opened an Internet browser. What now?”

Me: “No, we need to open a folder, not a program.”

Customer: “What’s a folder?”

(I am dropping off some paperwork at my son’s new school so he can begin first grade in the fall. The staff member helping me is shocked I don’t have any report cards from his time in a hybrid classroom/homeschool kindergarten. I’ve just finished explaining that the public charter school overseeing his schooling had an educational specialist meet with him monthly to evaluate his progress.)

Staff Member: “No report cards? But do you mean he didn’t get any grades?”

Me: “No report cards and no grades. But he did have monthly in-person evaluations with the charter school specialist.”

Staff Member: “But, but, but… What about tests? I’m sure he took tests. You know, where he wrote stuff down.”

Me: “Not that I know of. We didn’t do formal tests. But he had a monthly evaluation by the public charter school specialist.”

Staff Member: “But how do you know he was learning anything?”

Me: “His charter school evaluated him monthly to be sure he was keeping up to state standards, and I’ve been tracking his progress against state standards, too.”

Staff Member: “But, but, but… Who taught him?”

Me: “Two days a week he was in a classroom with other kids and a teacher, his dad taught him most subjects on other days, and I taught him reading.”

Staff Member: “Okay, but, but, but… Tests. He had to have taken some tests. How did you know how he was doing in school?”

Me: “His charter school regularly evaluated him against the state standards, and so did I.”

Staff Member: “But what about reading? How do you know he can read?”

Me: “Because I can put a book in front of him and he reads it to me.”

Staff Member: “But, but, but… How do you know he understands what he’s reading?”

Me: “Because he interacts with what he’s reading in an understanding way.”

Staff Member: “But, but, but… What about tests?”

(Should I be worried about this fixation on tests?!)