Client: “We don’t have one, but I’d like to put a video on our website that gives a tour of our drop-in centre programs and shows a little of what we do. What do you think?”

Me: “Sure, that sounds fine.”

Client: “So, can you do it?”

Me: “Oh, I can put up and feature a video on your site, but no, I can’t make a video. I don’t know anyone who produces videos, but I can ask—”

Client: “Can’t you just find one on YouTube and put it on our site?”

Me: “You mean you want me to find and use an existing YouTube video that describes your company?”

Client: “Yes! I don’t want to shell out a bunch of money when there’s all this free stuff floating around on YouTube.”

My dad worked at the county shop, which used convict labor. One of the convicts was working near Dad, and either the convict or my dad farted loudly. (I don’t remember which.)

Dad: “That was an African Barking Spider.”

The convict blinked and then burst out laughing. He laughed for a good long time, repeating, “African Barking Spider!” to himself. He calmed down enough to get back to work, but he would still periodically burst into giggles with “African Barking Spider!” for the rest of the day.

Dad broke the convict with “African Barking Spiders.”

A client had hired his cousin, a recent art school graduate, to design a logo for an otherwise complete website I had built for him.

The following email exchange took place on the day of the website launch.

Client: “Here is the final version of the logo. Can you please add this to the site and then push it live?”

Me: “I’ll add the logo to the site, but don’t you think that it looks very similar to [World Famous Oil Company]’s logo? Are you sure that this is what you want? Has your cousin checked it with the Intellectual Property Office?”

Client: “What? It looks nothing like [Oil Company]’s logo! I don’t know where you got that from. Just add it to the website and push it live, now! And don’t EVER question my cousin’s work again! It’s insulting!”

One week after the site has gone live, I received this email.

Client: “You need to take down that logo — NOW! I got a letter from [Oil Company]’s lawyers! They’re going to take legal action against me if I don’t take it down.”

Me: “I’m on it. Did you want your cousin to design a new one, or should I—”

Client: “That stupid b*****d is dead to me, and you will be, too, if you don’t catch the mistake next time.”

In the late 1980s, the XO [Executive Officer] on my dad’s ship at the time told the sailors going out on the town that Spanish cops carried automatic weapons — but don’t worry; they use rubber bullets.

After some drinking, one of the sailors decided it would be fun to go down the street smashing the mirrors off of cars. A pair of cops caught him in the act and yelled for him to stop. He didn’t stop but instead ran.

It turned out the XO was wrong about one thing: they were not using rubber bullets. The captain, on being informed that one of his sailors was recovering from gunshot wounds before being processed into jail, decided it was best to leave the sailor to deal with all legal consequences there and that someone else back in Virginia could handle the rest.

This is the same XO who got relieved of duty, on the very same cruise, because he also kept getting arrested in foreign ports.

My neighborhood grocery store is part of a chain. In any of the stores, you sometimes find something out of place that someone changed their mind about — often something like a package of cookies left among the bread.

The one nearest me has this to insane levels: cooked deli items in with the bread, ice cream with the flour, and on my most recent visit, a package of batteries in the fridge unit with single sodas. I keep hoping to catch one of these nitwits doing this, and I came close with the fridge.

Just as I was noticing the batteries, a twenty-something woman walked past me and set a big convenience store soda cup on top. I had seen her crossing back and forth near the checkout without adding anything to the collection of things in her other arm.

As I watched her retreat in the other direction, I contemplated saying something, but I wasn’t sure what. Then, I saw her reverse and come back my way again. As she was just about to pass, I said:

Me: “Excuse me! I think you forgot your drink.”

She gave me a blank look, grabbed the drink without a word, and then kept walking. Then, she suddenly turned into one of the cashier aisles that was, momentarily, without staff. She was there boldly shoplifting. Apparently, she had it down to an art.

Thanks, “lady,” for being one of the reasons we pay more for our things.