I worked in a thrift store when I was in college. We would get donations of old Barbie and Ken dolls all the time. They were usually in rough shape and missing clothes, so we would throw them in a bin and charge fifty cents a doll.

Customer: “Excuse me! It’s p*rnographic to put the male and female dolls in the same bin naked like that!”

I separated them into separate bins at the request of my boss. The customer came in the next day and saw the Ken pile.

Customer: “Well, that’s no good! Now it just looks like gay p*rn!”

I’m an avid swimmer; it’s my favourite way to keep active due to some old knee injuries precluding me from high-impact sports. I normally swim every morning except Sundays, just some lazy laps in the local pool.

A few months ago, after years of trying, I fell pregnant! While I was incredibly excited, morning sickness hit hard and I didn’t swim for a few months.

Around week eighteen, I FINALLY don’t want to throw up all the time and decide to pop in for a swim. The employees, who I all know by name, haven’t seen me in months, and by now, I look like I am smuggling half a watermelon under my bathers.

Girl: “Hi, you! Long time no see!”

Me: “Hi!” *Gesturing to my stomach* “I didn’t think you’d fancy cleaning vomit out of the pool, so I stayed away for a bit. Back now, though!”

The very friendly girl sets me up in my usual end lane and chats excitedly about my pregnancy. A male employee I’ve never met before wanders up to the desk.

Girl: “Hey, [Guy], this is [My Name]. She was in here almost every day before you showed up.”

The male employee greets me warmly and then notices my protruding belly.

Guy: “Are you pregnant? And going swimming?”

I cringe, as my mother-in-law buys into the old wives’ tales about pregnant women not being supposed to swim. However, before I can say anything, he excitedly shouts:

Guy: “HUMAN SUBMARINE!”

I almost cried laughing. I’m due in a month and still go for my regular swim. Every time that employee sees me, he excitedly makes sonar noises. I love that guy.

This story is part of the Highest-Voted-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

Read the next Highest-Voted-Stories Of-2022 roundup story!

Read the Highest-Voted-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

I am checking out a young man who seems to be with his parents.

Young Man: “That item rang up wrong. It’s 50% off.”

Me: “Yes, sir. The normal price is $4, and they’re ringing up for $2.”

Young Man: “No, 50% off would be $1.50. Someone screwed up.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but half of four is two.”

Young Man: “Who said anything about half?! It’s 50%! You half it and then take off fifty!”

Me: “That’s… not how it works at all. 50% is half. You halve the price and that’s it.”

Young Man: “You can’t do math.”

I hold up four fingers.

Me: “Here is four. Half of this is…”

I drop two fingers.

Me: “Therefore, the price is correct.”

Young Man: “Well, then you should just say half off! None of this percentage crap.”

Finally, the young man’s father speaks up.

Father: “Why did we spend all that money on private school when this girl just schooled you for free?!”

They accepted the correct price for their items.

This story is part of the Editors’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

Read the next Editors’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup story!

Read the Editors’-Favorite-Stories Of-2022 roundup!

One night, as my coworker and I were about to close the gift shop where I used to work, a bird flew in the door. We had been leaving the door open since it was a nice summer evening. This was obviously a problem for both us and the bird.

I texted my manager to see if she had any experience with this kind of thing. It turned out it wasn’t the first time a bird had found its way in the door. In the past, birds had been unable to find their way out and would just fly into the front windows over and over again, hurting themselves and merchandise. My manager recommended getting a piece of bread and creating a little trail leading out the door.

While my coworker was locating a piece of bread, I slowly approached the bird and whistled at it. It just seemed like the thing to do. It promptly flew directly out the door. I don’t know what I said to it in bird language, but apparently, it worked.

With our bird crisis averted, my coworker and I finished closing as normal. We split a baguette, and I briefly got a reputation as a Disney princess.

One afternoon, like clockwork, I heard my junior-high-aged daughter coming up the drive to the front steps, and then to the front door. I decided to play a prank. I stood behind the door, listening for her approach. I knew about then she would be reaching for the door knob to open the door and come inside.

I opened the door before she could, and I stuck my head out and made a godawful noise like a growling and hissing cat, hoping to startle her and get a laugh.

But just as I opened the door and let out a pretty impressive “growl-hiss”, I saw the horrified face of my very startled neighbor.

He immediately jumped back.

Neighbor: “Oh, my gosh!”

He grabbed his chest, steadied himself, and then held out his hand with an envelope.

Neighbor: “Here. The mailman delivered this to my address by mistake today.”

Me: “Oh, my! Thank you so much.”’

Neighbor: “No problem. Have a nice day!”

He turned and left… with a little more scoot to his step than before.

From that day on, every time I drove or walked past his place or saw him out watering his lawn, we would always exchange friendly, neighborly waves, but inside, I would be reminded of that day that I startled him. I have often wondered what story he tells his friends and grandkids about the neighbor lady who jump-scared him for giving her mail to her. I am embarrassed but get a laugh every time I recall his face at that moment. Poor fellow.

I don’t do that anymore — jumping out and startling people — unless I am absolutely sure it is the person my prank is intended for. The funny thing is, my daughter got home from school about a minute after that, and I didn’t even tell her what I had planned for her that had backfired on the poor neighbor guy.