(I am working at a pizza place. One night three teenagers come in, very obviously high. I take their order and give them their number. They sit down and I start folding silverware. After about two minutes, the cook motions behind me. One of the kids is standing behind the drink station. All I can see is the top half of his head over the station.)
Me: “Can I help you with anything?”
Customer: *mumbles incoherently*
Me: “I’m sorry?”
Customer: “Waiting.”
Me: “Your pizza will be out in a few minutes. Do you need a refill?”
Customer: *quiet for a moment, then points to the ovens* “Waiting.”
Me: “O… kay?”
(He stood there until the pizza came out and they ate the whole pizza in about five minutes.)
(I’m a teenager at a party attended by several families, all friends or acquaintances of my own family. I wander through the house with my best friend, also a teenager, as we talk about random stuff. I mention to her that I had a headache that morning until I took ibuprofen. A little while later, I’m sitting on the living room couch when four of the adults walk into the room together and sit down near me. They seem very solemn, and they’re all looking at me.)
Me: “Um… hi?”
Adult #1: “You know drugs are bad, right?”
Me: *confused* “Yes?”
Adult #1: “You know to stay away from them.”
Me: “Yes? What’s with the intervention?”
Adult #1: “You know you’re not supposed to take them.”
(I’m confused and a little hurt that they think I need a lecture. These people, who I’ve always respected and been friendly to, have never spoken so condescendingly to me before. I’ve known them for years. I’ve never had disciplinary problems or drug problems. I’ve even babysat some of their kids.)
Me: “Yep. Sure do. I mean, I do take [ADD pills] on the days I have classes. But I didn’t take one of those today since it’s Saturday and all. And this morning, I took ibuprofen because I had a headache. And then I stopped. Because the headache went away. And then, I didn’t need to take them anymore. Because I’m not an idiot. I’m also not addicted to drugs. And I don’t plan to be. Ever. I really don’t know why you would think I’d ever do that.”
(The group is silent. They seem to be digesting my words and don’t seem to know where to go next.)
Me: *stands up* “I’m going to go get some food. You guys want anything?”
(They said no, and I escaped to the kitchen. The whole encounter was very strange, but it was never brought up again.)
(A customer enters the shop and smells strongly of marijuana.)
Customer: “Can I get a pack of cigarette papers?”
Me: “Sure. Do you need any loose cigarette tobacco?”
Customer: “Why would I want that?”
Me: “For the cigarette papers.”
Customer: “What? You can make cigarettes with them?!”
(I am counseling a patient on using an inhaler.)
Me: “Do you know how to use an inhaler, sir?”
Patient: “Nope, never used one.”
Me: “Okay, you’ll want to begin inhaling, and then depress the inhaler as you are breathing in. Then, hold your breath for as long as possible to allow the medication to be absorbed into your lungs.”
Patient: “Oh, sort of like smoking pot…”
(A customer comes to me with a package of brownies with a “Special!” sticker on the top.)
Customer: “Excuse me, miss?”
Me: “How can I help you?”
Customer: “Why are these brownies ‘special’?”
Me: “They’re the bakery’s special of the week. They’re on sale now through Saturday.”
Customer: “So, there’s nothing different about them?”
Me: “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Customer: *winking* “They’re not… ‘special’ brownies?”
Me: “Oh! No, sorry, they’re just normal brownies.”
Customer: “Never mind, then.” *sets down the container and walks away*
