(I work in a portrait studio and am going to upload a customer’s pictures from a memory card after finishing the session. I get an error message that says, “card cannot be used,” which I’ve never seen before, so I call our help desk. He asks a couple questions and runs few a couple of quick things that don’t work.)

Help Desk Tech: “Okay, let’s do it this way. Go ahead and format the memory card.”

Me: “What? Format the memory card?”

(I am terrified to do this because it will erase all the images I just finished taking of a large group.)

Help Desk Tech: “Yeah.”

Me: “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “No?”

Me: *firmly* “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “Why not?”

Me: “I’m trying to retrieve the images, not delete them!”

Help Desk Tech: “It’s fine. I can still get them after you format it.”

Me: “No.”

Help Desk Tech: “It will be okay.”

Me: “What’s your name?”

Help Desk Tech: “[Help Desk Tech].”

Me: “Well, [Help Desk Tech], if I am going to go against my better judgement and format this memory card I need you to promise me that I won’t delete these pictures.”

Help Desk Tech: “It should be fine.”

Me: “Should be isn’t good enough! I need you to promise me.”

Help Desk Tech: “I promise. Go ahead and format it. I’ll help you through this. We can do it together.”

(I can tell he’s teasing me, but I take a deep breath and format the memory card. He proceeds to remotely access my computer and retrieve the images from the card.)

Me: “You did it!”

Help Desk Tech: “I’m glad. I was totally lying when I promised before.”

Me: “[Help Desk Tech]!”

Help Desk Tech: “Just kidding.”

Me: “Thank you so much!” *to my customer who has been waiting for her pictures* “He did it! My new best friend [Help Desk Tech] did it!”

([Help Desk Tech] is my buddy now. I’m always glad when I call the help desk and it’s him. The customer loved her pictures and tipped me $30.)

(I work for my university, prepping equipment and chemicals for the undergraduate lab classes. Since I’m working with a lot of chemical stains, I usually show up to work wearing lab coats and my rattiest T-shirts. However, I’m also a research student, and we’re required to dress up when we present our work at the biannual symposium. As such, I’m wearing a nice dress today instead of my usual cut-offs and T-shirt, and apparently some people weren’t expecting it.)

Lab Manager: “Excuse me, miss, you can’t be in… Holy s***, [My Name]! I didn’t recognize you! Why the hell are you wearing a dress?!”

Me: “It’s symposium day; I have to dress up to present my work.”

Lab Manager: “Christ, that’s today? Well, good luck! You do look nice; I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a skirt. It’s weird.”

(Later, in the research lab…)

Principal Investigator: “Holy cow, [My Name]. You look great! Why don’t you dress like that every day?”

Me: “Because most days, I’m hauling formaldehyde-soaked dissection specimens or scrubbing test tubes out with bleach, and I like this dress!”

Principal Investigator: *laughing* “Fair enough. So, ready for your presentation?”

(My presentation did actually go very well, but I continued getting spit-take reactions throughout the day. Since then, I’ve made it a point to dress up one or two days a semester when I’m not working; the double-takes are just too much fun!)

Me: “You’ll want to update your app to alleviate the issue.”

Customer: “How do I do that?”

Me: “Just head to the app store and search for [App].”

Customer: “I’m sorry; I simply don’t have time to drive to the app store today.”

(I’m the teacher’s assistant for a freshman biology lab class. I’ve worked with this professor for several years, and he’s as much my friend as he is my professor. Today’s lab is about running DNA on electrophoresis gels, which involves a lot of fairly hazardous chemicals. After the professor gets done explaining the concepts, he picks up one of the gels with his bare hands.)

Me: “Dude! Put some gloves on! Do you want to get cancer?!”

Professor: “Eh, whatever. I’ve already had all the kids I’m planning on having, and I figure I’m bound to get cancer, anyway, given how often I work with this stuff.”

(I face-palmed. I will say though, I’ve never seen so many freshmen scramble to get their lab gloves on that quickly!)

(I have just ordered a meal at a fast food restaurant, and my bill comes to $4.15. I have a $5 bill and I do not want a fist full of change, so I offer the cashier a quarter and the five. She looks at me blankly.)

Cashier: “That’s too much. I just need the five.”

Me: “Can you just give me the change?”

Cashier: “I can give you change for the five. I don’t need the quarter.”

Me: “I really don’t want all that change, if you don’t mind.”

Cashier: “Uh, I don’t know if I can do that.”

Me: “Just give me a dollar and a dime.”

Cashier: “I’ll have to check with the manager about this. It doesn’t look right.”

(Summons the manager.)

Manager: “What’s the problem?”

Me: “The bill is $4.15. I gave the cashier $5.25, but she doesn’t know how to make change for it.”

Manager: “We just need the five. You get 85 cents change.”

Me: “I’d prefer to not have all that change. Just give me a dollar and a dime.”

Manager: “Listen, bud. We get scammers in here all the time. If you don’t want to pay, I’ll call the cops.”

Me: *surrenders* “That won’t be necessary. I’ll just take the change.”

Manager: “Ring him up.”

(I give the cashier $5, she gives me three quarters and a dime change. I pocket the dime and pull out my quarter.)

Me: “Can I get a dollar bill for these four quarters?”

Manager: “Sure! We can always use the quarters!”