(I work at a movie theater, and this happens almost every time there’s a line for a popular movie.)

Me: *collecting tickets* “Theater four, last door on your right. Enjoy the movie. Theater four, last door on your right. Enjoy the movie. Theater four, last door on your right. Enjoy the movie. Theater fo— your movie started ten minutes ago. Theater one, first door on your left.”

(Apparently, some people see a line, and they just get in it.)

(I work in an auto shop.)

Me: “Thank you for calling. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: “Yes, the check payment you guys sent me for my car bounced, and the funds were reversed.”

Me: “Okay, ma’am, I do apologize about that. Let me take a look on your file.”

(I look at the file and it appears that she only gave us an application to get a title and not an actual title.)

Me: “Okay, ma’am, it looks like when we received your title at the yard, it wasn’t actually a title; it was an application. We tried contacting you to owner-retain the vehicle and send it back to your house, but you never answered or returned our calls.”

Customer: “I didn’t receive any of your calls. The agency that referred me to you said that the application would be sufficient.”

Me: “When we took down your file, ma’am, we asked if you had a title. You said that you did. So, unfortunately, at this time all we can do is contact the yard and send the vehicle back to you, since your end of the verbal contract wasn’t completed.”

Customer: “That’s bulls***! I’m going to call the local police and tell them that I never gave you the car and that you stole it.”

Me: “Well, ma’am, you would be charged with filing a false police report, since we have records of you agreeing to have the car picked up with a title.”

Customer: *click*

(During a break between classes, my friends and I are standing in the hallway talking. One of my friends has a plate of food from her culinary class in one hand and a drink in the other.)

Friend #1: “How am I supposed to eat this with my hands full?”

Me: “Here, let me give you a hand.”

(I reach over and grab the fork off her plate and start spearing pieces of food and holding it up to her mouth to eat. This proceeds until the plate is empty as we all keep talking.)

Friend #2: *after staring at us with a weird look* “Why did you feed her? Wouldn’t have been easier to hold the plate for her or hold the drink while she took bites?”

([Friend #1] and I freeze and then stare at each other in disbelief, as that thought hadn’t crossed either of our minds.)

Me: *as everyone is laughing now* “Why didn’t any of you say anything earlier?! You just let me feed her for the last five minutes!”

Friend #2: “Honestly, I didn’t think either of you were that stupid, so I assumed there had to be a reasonable explanation for why you did it that way.”

Me: “Yeah, well, you got that wrong.”

(I decide to stop by a fast food place because I have a buy-one-get-one-free coupon for a popular burger. I drive up to the window and place my order.)

Cashier: “Oh, that’s on special right now, two for $3. Did you want two?”

Me: “Uh… Yes, I have a coupon to buy one, get one free.”

(She repeats my order back and tells me my total is $3.21. I’m a little confused, so when I get to the window I ask why it’s so much because the burger itself is $1.99.)

Cashier: “Oh, it’s because it’s buy two for $3, and then tax.”

Me: “But I have the BOGO coupon…”Cas

Cashier: “Oh, this way is a better deal, so you can save your coupon for when they aren’t on sale. It’s cheaper with the sale than with the coupon.”

(I tried to explain the math to her but she didn’t understand, and kept reiterating that her way was cheaper. Finally, frustrated beyond reason, I asked her to ring it up using the coupon and tell me which was cheaper. She seemed honestly shocked that $2.14 was less than $3.21. She rang it up correctly and handed me my food, and as I was about to pull away I heard her telling her coworkers that they were wrong all those times they told people it was cheaper.)

(In fourth grade I move to a new school. On my first day of school, a group of girls comes up to me and claims me as their friend. I become really good friends with one of the girls, and the rest are fun to play with at recess. Some of the girls aren’t as smart as I am, and one is missing a leg. All of them have another class that they go to for part of the day, but being nine, I don’t really think much of it. This happens in sixth grade: My teacher has asked me to stay behind so she can talk to me before I go to recess.)

Teacher: “[My Name], I see that you’ve been playing with [Friends #1, #2, and #3]. You shouldn’t be playing with them; we will find you new friends.”

Me: “But I like my friends, and all the other kids in class are mean or are into things I’m not interested in.”

Teacher: “Well, if you stop being friends with those girls, then people wouldn’t be mean to you.”

Me: “But my friends are friends with me, no matter who I hang out with. Why should I be friends with people who don’t like me because of who I am friends with?”

Teacher: “[My Name], those girls are Day School children and you’re not. You are one of the brightest students I have, and you shouldn’t be playing with them.”

Me: *looking at my teacher in confusion* “But [Teacher], I’m a child and I go to school during the day. What am I, if not a day school child?”

Teacher: *pauses* “Just go outside and try to make new friends.”

(It took me a while to work out that “day school children” meant kids who were in special ed. By the end of seventh grade, I was no longer friends with most of the girls that I was friends with in fourth grade. Some had changed schools, and some had just drifted naturally into different groups. I’m glad I never took my teacher’s advice to abandon a group of people who had welcomed me with open arms just because my teacher thought they were different than me. I’m now in my 30s and still count one of those girls as one of my closest friends.)