(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 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*

(A customer comes up to the register at about 11 pm, looking a little out of it.)

Customer: “Hi, how much is a double cheeseburger?”

Me: “With tax, it comes to $1.46.”

Customer: “Oh… okay…” (Searches through his pockets and comes up with 63 cents.) “Can I pay with this much cash and the rest on debit?”

Me: “Sure, that’s no problem. I’ll have to do the debit portion first.”

Customer: “Normally, I’d pay with the whole thing on debit, but I just bought a bunch of pot and I don’t know what’s left in my account.”

Me: “How did you manage to buy pot with your debit card?”

Customer: “Oh, man! My dealer is so great! He just got one of those portable debit machines! He comes right to my house!”

Me: “Well, if you could just swipe your card…”

Customer: “Oh, no! I didn’t protect my pin. What if you saw it?”

Me: “Don’t worry, sir, I was over there. I wasn’t even watching, and I have a terrible memory.”

Customer: “Okay, well, it’s 6969. That’s my favorite number!”

(After leaving with his food I had to chase after him, as he had left his debit card in the machine.)

(A patient walks up to the pick-up window looking like he just came from the emergency room.)

Me: “Hello, sir, how can I help you?”

Customer: “I wanna drop this off…” *hands me an ER prescription*

Me: “Sir, this is the pick-up window. You need to drop off the prescription at the drop off window.”

Customer: “Where’s that?”

Me: “The counter at the entrance to the room with the big sign that says “Drop Off Window’.”

Customer: “Where?”

Me: “You know, you already waited in line so I’ll just take the prescription here. Have you ever had any medication here before?”

Customer: “I don’t know; have I?”

Me: “I’ll take that as a no. Do you have any allergies to medication?”

Customer: “Well, when I mix heroin and battery acid, I get a rash.”

Me: “…I’ll make a note on that.”

Me: “Thank you for calling [Garden Store]. This is [My Name]. How can I help you today?”

Caller: “Yeah, I have mites on my, uh… tomato plants. I need something to put on them to kill the mites”

Me: “Well, sir, we have many different types of sprays and powders for bug eradication that can work.”

Caller: “I need something that can work indoors.”

Me: “Indoors? Like a greenhouse? Because the products we have are all natural and can be used in a greenhouse.”

Caller: “I mean indoors like in my house. I don’t want to use a spray in the closet in my room.”

Me: “Sir, you’re growing tomatoes in your closet?”

Customer “Uh, yeah… so what can I use?”

Me: “Well, we have a powder made of diatomes you can use to kill the mites, and you can still eat the tomatoes without any issue. It’s all natural and perfectly safe.”

Caller: “That sounds good, but… umm, what if I were to smoke the tomato plant? Would that still be safe?”

(I finally realize he’s NOT really talking about tomatoes.)

Me: “Umm, sir, tomato plants are part of the nightshade family and are actually poisonous if ingested. I wouldn’t recommend smoking them or eating the plant itself. Just the tomato.”

Caller: “But, if I had a plant that was smokeable, I could use the powder stuff and it would be okay?”

Me: “Yeah, just make sure you wash it good before you um… smoke it… as you would with any home-grown vegetables and fruits.”

Caller: “You’re sure? Because I don’t wanna die for smoking something I’m not supposed to.”

Me: “Then make sure you aren’t smoking the tomato plants in your closet and you’ll be fine. Have a nice day!”