(I am at a popular coffee shop with a friend. We order our drinks without issue, and take a seat at the table across from the counter. An older couple orders after us, and the woman decides to wait at the counter for her drink. My friend’s drink is up first, so I walk to the counter to grab it for her and wait for my own order. My drink comes up fairly quickly, and when the barista calls out my order the lady next to me at the counter strikes up a conversation:)

Lady: “Ooooh, [drink name]! Aren’t those good?”

Me: “I’ve had them before and they’re great on a hot day!”

(The barista sets down my drink.)

Me: “Thank y—”

(Before I can finish my sentence, the lady next to me snags my drink and walks over to her husband.)

Me: “Um, ma’am, I think you may have grabbed my drink by mistake…”

Lady: *ignores me and starts drinking my drink, while sighing to her husband about “Kids these days…!”*

(The barista then sets down the lady’s drink, which is a much smaller, less expensive drink made with regular milk, not coconut milk like mine had been. I explain to the barista what happened, and she apologizes profusely and remakes my drink for me. All the while, the older lady is smirking at me, as she just got a more pricey drink for less. The barista has my coffee ready a moment later, and continues to apologize. I let her know it’s fine, and that these things happen sometimes. As I rejoin my friend, the older lady and her husband finish their drinks and leave. Just as I’m about to take a sip of my drink, the barista rushes over to our table.)

Barista: “I am so, SO sorry, but can I remake that for you again? I just now noticed that our coconut milk is expired! I don’t want you getting sick from that! I have a fresh container of coconut milk out now! I’m so sorry!”

Me: “What? Oh my… yes! I’m glad you caught that!”

Barista: “Sorry! I should have been paying more attention!”

Me: “Not a problem… wait. That lady who stole my drink… you’re telling me she was drinking expired coconut milk?”

Barista: “…yes?”

Me: “Well, that’ll teach her not to steal someone else’s drink!”

Barista: “I suppose it serves her right, doesn’t it?”

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(I turn off the road into a shopping mall. The “streets” in the shopping center are two lanes in each direction. In front of me is a private shuttle bus, which is straddling the line between the lanes. The driver continues to drive on the center line, stopping at all stop signs, signaling his turns, and effectively blocking me. I’m tired and get fed up with this, so I copy down the phone number on the back of the bus and the license plate, and give them a call.)

Me: “I’m having a, uh, situation with one of your drivers. Whom should I talk with, please?”

Manager: *gruffly* “That would be me.”

Me: “Well, sir, I was going to [Store] and was behind one of your drivers. This is the license plate number. He was driving on the center line…”

Manager: *starts to laugh*

Me: “Even when the road forked, he was on the center line…”

Manager: *laughs harder*

Me: “So, I just thought I’d call you…”

Manager: “I know exactly who that is. What a fool! Wait until I talk to him… pick a lane, guy! Pick a lane!”

Me: *relieved* “My point exactly, sir.”

Manager: “I’ll handle it. Thank you! PICK A LANE!”

I checked out the first volume of a manwha (Korean comic). A few days later, I returned it. A few days after that, I got an email telling me that my manwha would be due soon. I called the library and told them I returned it, which they took surprisingly well. They asked me to double check my house, which I did, but they didn’t fine me.

A week later, I return to the library to read the rest of the series. The first and 5-10th volumes are missing, but I figure someone else checked the latter out. This time, I make sure to get a return receipt.

Next week, I’m at the library again, and the whole series is missing! I check the database, and the entire collection is listed as lost. I ask the librarian, and they tell me, “People check them out but never return them. They keep saying they did but I know they’re lying! These things are expensive to get over here, so you can sell them for a lot. This is why I hate foreign comic books!”

(I’m waiting for my pneumonia shot. A woman comes in with a hypodermic.)

Woman: “I can never get these computers to work!” *types, mutters* “So hard to log in — there! Now… okay, there we are. Now let’s get your shot!”

Me: “Um, you’re not wearing any sort of ID.”

Woman: “Oh, I guess I’m not. Another nurse needed to borrow it.” *moves towards me to give shot*

Me: “I don’t think so. You’re a total stranger with no identification; we’re not doing this!” *and I’m thinking, she’s foolish enough to admit she gave someone else her ID?!*

Woman: “You’re exactly right. I’ll go get it.”

(She leaves, comes back, and waves an ID at me. I grab the ID and carefully check that the photo matches the face, which it does.)

Woman: “Let’s get this over with, because I have to get my ID back to the other nurse. She still needs it.”

Me: “No, thank you.”

(I filed a formal complaint against her at the front desk. I’ll get my shot some other time!)

(I’m at the store picking up feminine products, but also get a couple groceries and other random items. At this time of day only self checkout is open and just as I get to the lane they’re all suddenly filled up by men. One of the guys getting in line sees me and blushes.)

Man: “Miss, you can go ahead of me!”

Me: “Oh, thanks, but I have more things than you.”

Man: “No, no, I insist. Please go ahead.”

Me: “Oh, well, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” *steps in front of him*

(The guy in front of me turned to put his things on the conveyor belt and saw me. He too insisted I go ahead. I was baffled by the fact that two gentlemen had insisted I go ahead until I scanned the feminine products and it clicked. I was amused but very embarrassed.)