Back in the early 1990s, my friend and I pick a Friday night to go to a bar reasonably near our college. I’m the designated driver, so I drink nothing but non-alcoholic beverages, but three hours in, my friend is completely sloshed to the point of barely being able to stand. Despite this (or maybe because of it), he and a young lady hit it off, and he ends up going to her apartment with her.

He comes over to my place the next weekend and I ask how things went.

Friend: “Great. I passed out in her car, and when I woke up on Saturday, I was in her bed. She was sitting in a chair next to me with a concerned look. I had the worst hangover ever, and she took awesome care of me. She was very attentive, made sure I got rehydrated properly, and she’s a really good cook. We’ve been on three dates in the past week.”

He pauses for a moment and then adds a thought.

Friend: “If I hadn’t been so drunk I couldn’t see, I would have run screaming away from her in the bar. She’s not skinny and blonde like I normally like ’em. In fact, I’d probably have called her ugly as sin. But no blonde has ever been this nice to me.”

They recently celebrated their twenty-fifth anniversary, and they have three wonderful children.

I work in the Member Service Department in a call center. So, naturally, when a certain health crisis hits, my company immediately decides to move everyone who was able to work from home, including our entire department.

Cut to a couple of weeks later. My cat has gotten used to me being home all the time but not quite that I have to work and I am not there to pet and give her attention at all times. Today, I am finishing up a call with an older member. The call is difficult and I have been on the phone with her for about a half-hour now. I think I have managed to save the situation by being a model of professionalism. Then, this happens.

Me: “Once again, thank you for your patience, Mrs. [Caller], and for allowing me to assist you. Again, I apologize that this has occurred.”

Caller: *Still agitated* “I am still not very happy! But you at least sound like you know what you’re doing, so I believe you did everything you could.“

I heave a sigh of relief. My cat chooses this exact moment to jump onto my desk… and meow as loudly as she can into the mic.

Cat: “Mreow!”

Cue about five seconds of silence.

Caller: *Laughing* “Oh, my! Is that your cat? Oh, that is just the cutest! You’ve made my day! Oh, my.”

She is still laughing as she hangs up.

Cat: “Mreow?“

Me: “Really?“

It’s been almost two years now. She still interrupts my calls, but I have become much quicker at hitting the mute button.

When I worked at the big chain pharmacy in my hometown, we would have big waves of customers coming in looking for prescriptions. Sometimes, when it was quieter, I would get into a stance as if I was playing baseball.

Coworker: “What are you doing?”

Me: “I’m getting ready for the bus of old ladies heading to the casino. They all need their dozen prescriptions, even though half of them aren’t due for a refill.”

Cut to about a year later. I moved out of my hometown to another part of the state, and I transferred to the pharmacy at that location. I continued my gag of getting into a baseball stance, explaining to my coworkers what it was about. One day, I looked out of the store to see a large group of older women beelining toward the pharmacy.

Me: “THE TIME HAS COME!”

Turns out, it really was a bus of ladies from a nearby senior living community heading to a casino, and they were using the advantage of having the bus to pick up their prescriptions before they left!

I ran a video rental store (I’m old, I know) that, for some strange reason, ended up on the local cuckoo church’s radar. On our grand opening, they all showed up to protest our having “3,000 dirty movies in the back room.” I tried to reason with them and explain that that was impossible, but it was no good. They “knew” they were right.

A manager came up with a brilliant plan. He called the media to cover the protest, and when they arrived, he escorted them into the six-foot-by-eight-foot backroom that was completely filled with a break table, a microwave, and a small bathroom.

By the time the media got done laughing and came out to interview the protesters, they were all gone.

It’s spring 2022 and everyone is back at the office. We’re having a meeting in one of the conference rooms. The person doing the presentation puts their slideshow up on the large smart monitor. This monitor is — I cannot stress this enough — in the same physical conference room where everyone else is.

Presenter: *Points at the screen* “Okay, can everyone see this?”

Everyone: “…Yes?”

Presenter: “Good. Now, I called this meeting to…”

The penny drops.

Presenter: “Oh. Sorry. It’s been two years of Zoom meetings.”