Back in 2002, I was in Sydney training a group of people on how to use our software. The training took five days and involved the use of Windows XP, keyboards, and mice. It was expected that the trainees would be familiar with the use of Windows, etc.

After the first two days, one gentleman was having huge difficulties with making his mouse work correctly. After checking the mouse wheel — not optical in those days — and the surface he was using and using it myself, I could find no real problem.

Then, he asked:

Trainee: “Am I allowed to use my left hand on the mouse?”

He was profoundly left-handed and had spent two days using the mouse with his right hand as that was how it was set up on day one.

Once he changed, he was fine.

In order to fly with a cat as a carry-on, you have to use a soft-sided carrier and place them on the floor in front of you during takeoff, or at least that’s how it worked on the flight I took from Florida to Kansas in 2006.

My cat, Min Min, was in his carrier as we took off. But the pilot got on the intercom shortly after the seatbelt lights turned off to make an announcement.

Pilot: “A little tabby cat has made its way up into the cockpit area. Can its owner please press their call button?”

Apparently, the flight attendant had opened the door to talk to the pilot and co-pilot, and my little tabby cat had jumped into the co-pilot’s lap. Sure enough, the little rascal had opened the zippers on his carrier and escaped.

A lovely elderly woman gave me a safety pin from her sewing box, and that kept it closed for the rest of that flight, the layover, and the connecting flight.

I work as a security guard in an office building that is owned by a large local bank. Recently, the bank has been in the process of switching from their old computer software to a new one, which means that branch and facility employees have been converging on the site I work on for training on the new system.

Usually, these training classes only take place on weekdays, and the building is empty on weekends aside from the other guard, me, and some network people.

This week they decided to do training on Saturday. I knew this because I checked everyone in. But due to being tired, I totally forgot about it by the time 2:00 pm rolled around — hour eight of my twelve-hour shift.

Me: “Dude, I am crashing for some reason. I’m going to go get me a cup of coffee from the cafeteria.”

Partner: “All right.”

I moved to the cafeteria. More to keep myself awake than anything, I start talking to myself, starting a monologue with myself about beans, bean water, coffee bean water, haha bean water.

This conversation continued until I proudly kicked the swinging doors to the cafeteria open and yelled, “BEAN WATER!” and successfully violently startled the twelve employees that weren’t supposed to be there.

Me: “Oh, hi…”

Employees: “…”

Me: “Uhh, coffee is bean water. I came for coffee.”

Employees: “…”

Me: “I’m going to go do that.”

I slid my way over to the coffee brewer, poured my cup, and then slid back out again.

This is why training is supposed to be Monday through Friday.

I’m not always great at standing up for myself, and when stressed, my brain usually forgets how words are supposed to work. This time, however, it was mostly successful.

Someone knocks on my front door and I answer it to see a man in a suit with a piece of paper (not on a clipboard) and a pen. My two dogs are barking like crazy at the audacity of a human daring to approach the house, but they are behind a closed door to stop them from running into the road.

Man: “Hello, are you the homeowner?”

Me: “No.”

Man: “Is the homeowner in right now?”

Me: “Umm…”

My dad is in, but he’s asleep, but I could wake him up, but I shouldn’t because he works nights, but don’t we rent? Does that mean the homeowner is whoever the landlord is? I don’t know who or where they are.

Man: “Can you go get him for me?”

I’m still trying to figure out the answer to his previous question, and with no idea how to get all this information across, I decide I don’t want to talk to this random stranger anymore.

Me: “Can you go away, please?”

Man: *Surprised* “What?”

Me: “Umm, go away.”

I shut the door in his face and locked it, and I retreated to the living room to watch through the window to make sure he left. I heard him laugh at what had just happened, and he watched the house as he walked away. Once he was out of sight, I half-collapsed from the stress, which was helped very much by doggy cuddles.

It’s around midnight, and I’ve been driving since sunrise. I pull up to the drive-thru of a popular fast food franchise. After the greeting:

Me: “May I get [Competitor’s Signature Burger] meal with a Coke, please?”

Employee: *Halting* “I’m sorry, we don’t have those.”

My brain suddenly works.

Me: “Oh, my God! I’m so sorry! May I please get a [Their Popular Burger] combo with a Coke?”

Employee: *Laughs* “Of course, ma’am. Your total is [total]. At the first window.”

The transaction goes smoothly, and I explain my sleep deprivation and apologize for being “that customer.”

Employee: “Oh, believe me, you are absolutely not that customer!”