(My husband and I are about to run out to do some errands. As I’m gathering my things together, the doorbell rings. It’s some grizzled-looking dude, perhaps a few years older than my 40-something husband, wearing a uniform polo and hawking Internet, cable, and phone service door-to-door. My husband decides to humor him and listen to his pitch on our front stoop while I get ready. Please note that I am also in my 40s and look it. I join them after a few minutes, and speak up at an appropriate break in the conversation.)

Me: *to my husband* “Ready to go?”

Salesman: *to husband* “That’s why [Internet service] is the best.” *to me, in what I can only describe as a “men are talking”-type condescending tone* “Hi, sweetie.”

Husband: *under his breath and with a smirk on his face* “Uh-oh.”

Me: *completely flabbergasted* “EXCUSE ME?”

(I don’t know what my face looks like just then, but the salesman blanches and starts to stammer.)

Salesman: “Uh… Um, thanks for humoring me.” *takes off down our stairs at a record pace without looking back*

Husband: *huge grin on his face* “Aaaaand that’s when he realized the steel trap had closed on his nuts.”

(I work in a post office. A registered parcel lays unclaimed in the office for a long time, and for some reason, it cannot be returned to the sender, so after the mandatory four weeks, the office staff sets about to destroy it. They open it and find it is full of sweets — marzipan, chocolate, torrone, etc. So, for the next few days, they help themselves to the sweets whenever the mood takes them. Bear in mind that the office is on the ground floor of a rather old building. One day the parcel’s recipient shows up to claim her parcel. Frantically, they tape it together again, claim it fell apart in transit, give it to the recipient, and pat themselves on the back for having averted a well-deserved complaint.)

Coworker: “The weight wasn’t even that much off; I put the parcel on the scale before giving it away and it was nearly the same weight as stated on the label!”

(An hour passed, and everyone had forgotten about the incident when the recipient stormed into the office again. She had opened the parcel at her house and a huge, angry rat had jumped out and attacked her! Postal workers weren’t the only ones helping themselves to the freebies. Luckily, the inspectors assumed that the rat had torn open and entered the parcel all by itself, and the office was eventually moved to a newer building.)

(There’s currently a pretty nasty hurricane slowly making its way across the state. Said hurricane has been on major news networks and late-night talk shows for the past week.)

Caller: “Hi. This is [Blood Charity]. Would you like to donate blood today?”

Me: “You… do know that there’s currently a hurricane going through my state, right?”

Caller: “You’re in [Smallish Town in the middle of the state]? Well, I’m in [City in the western part of the state], so I didn’t know.”

Me: “YOU’RE IN THE SAME STATE!”

(I order something online to pick up in a store. I get an email saying that the order can be picked up that day, while the pickup slip that I need to show says the day after. Since the store is on my way and it’s more convenient for me if I can pick it up that day, I decide to take a gamble and just go. If it’s not there, I can always go tomorrow. I get in line with for cashier, which is also the pickup point. It’s quite crowded, so I patiently wait.)

Me: “Hello. I received an email saying I could pick up my order, but the slip I need to show says tomorrow. I was wondering if it was already in.”

Cashier: “Let me get the manager for you.”

(I step out of the line and wait for the manager. When he comes, he carries along several crates of shipment; clearly, he was unpacking things. He asks my name and order number.)

Manager: “I think I saw it with our shipment. [Employee], could you look for it in the back, while I unpack this?”

Employee: “Sure, can I see the slip?” *I show the pickup slip* “This says tomorrow; you have to come back tomorrow.”

Me: “Oh, but…”

Manager: “[Employee], I think I saw it in the back. Please check.”

Employee: “But the slip says tomorrow! It can’t be there yet!”

Manager: “Please go and check.”

(The employee sighs, goes to the back, and returns after a while. Meanwhile, the manager decides to go in the back, as well.)

Employee: “Yeah, I couldn’t find it. Like it said: it will be delivered tomorrow and not today. It says so on the pickup slip, so you need to come back tomorrow!”

(The tone is quite know-it-all, but I decide to just come back tomorrow.)

Me: “All right, thank you for checking, anyway. I will come back to—“

Manager: *carrying two boxes* “[Employee], it’s the top one.”

Employee: “What? But…”

Manager: “Please give the top box to the lady.”

(The employee gets the box and hands it to me. Not a “here you go,” or whatever, just a sigh.)

Me: “Thank you. I’m glad it showed up. I will let customer service know about the confusing email and slip.”

Employee: “It’s not confusing! It said tomorrow!”

(Clearly not getting anywhere with this employee, I headed to the cash register and checked out my order. When I got home, I had a notification that my order had been picked up successfully that same day!)

Me: “Hi. I’d like a four-for-four with a crispy chicken BLT, a [Soda], and barbecue sauce.”

Cashier: “All right, a four-for-four. What sandwich and drink?”

Me: “A crispy chicken BLT and a [Soda].”

Cashier: “A crispy chicken BLT. What drink?”

Me: “A [Soda].”

Cashier: “All right, a crispy chicken BLT with a [Soda]. And what to drink?”

Me: *confused pause* “A [Soda], please.”

Cashier: “And would you like any sauce?”

Me: “Yes, barbecue, please.”

Cashier: “All right. Which sandwich did you want?”

Me: “…”