(There is a villain in Doctor Who known as “The Silence.” They are instantly forgotten the moment you look away from them. My friend is going in to get a tattoo done that features the villain along with the words, “Silence will fall.”)

Tattoo Artist: “So, just the words will be [price].”

Friend: “What about the alien?”

Tattoo Artist: “What alien?”

Friend: “This alien.” *holds up reference picture*

Tattoo Artist: “Oh, right, hang on.” *turns to calculate price* “Just the words will be [same price as before].”

Friend: *getting frustrated* “But what about the alien?!”

Tattoo Artist: “What alien?”

Friend: “The f****** alien in the picture!”

Me: “[Friend], I think he’s just messing with you.”

Friend: “What?”

Me: “Remember where the alien comes from?”

Friend: “Son of a b****.”

Tattoo Artist: “Sorry about that, man. All together, it will be [different price than before].”

(My sister and I are watching “Attack of the Clones” in the den. She starts doing something weird with her hands.)

Me: “What the… Are you making the jerking-off motion?”

Sister: “What?! No! I wouldn’t do that!”

Me: “I know, but that’s what it looks like you’re doing.”

(Jar Jar Binks suddenly appears onscreen and starts shrieking.)

Me: “Now you can make the jerking-off motion.”

(My sister started to choke on her popcorn.)

(It’s early afternoon and my department is taking down the food in our hot case that was made early this morning and replacing it with fresh food for the afternoon. One of the night shift guys, who didn’t see the morning food being made, is perplexed and disgusted by one of the things just removed from the case.)

Coworker: “What in God’s name is this, and why does it look like it inspired The Dunwich Horror?”

(I look at the dish he’s pointing at, which appears to be mangled shreds of belt leather mixed with Spanish moss above some crusty brown substance.)

Me: *sarcastically* “Well, back in the ‘good old days,’ when men were men and certain folks weren’t allowed in fine restaurants, that was corned beef and cabbage.”

Coworker: “No, I’d say this is definitely some kind of Lovecraftian abomination.”

Me: *pointing to the baked fish from the morning* “Then this must be what inspired The Shadow Over Innsmouth.”

Coworker: “And this—” *pointing to the cornbread stuffing* “—looks like Herbert West definitely got his hands on it.”

Other Coworker: “I have no idea what y’all are talkin’ ‘bout.”

Both Of Us: “Cthulhu stuff.”

Other Coworker: “Uh… huh. I need a smoke.”

(I’m browsing the men’s clothing section of the store. There is one other customer in that section and he decides to approach me.)

Customer: “I like your T-shirt.”

Me: *glances up* “Oh? Yeah, thanks.” *makes a shooing motion* “I’m trying to find a Call of Duty T-shirt for my boyfriend, so go bother someone else.”

Customer: *snorts* “Yeah, and I’ll bet you’re only wearing that Spider-Man T-shirt to impress your boyfriend!”

(I burst out laughing and shake my head.)

Me: “Dude, if I was single and even remotely interested, you just blew any chance you would have had!” *pointing at my T-shirt* “This is Deadpool’s logo, not Spider-Man’s!”

Customer: *turns beet red* “Well, excuse me! Hot chicks aren’t supposed to like comic books!”

(I laughed even harder and he walked off in a huff.)

(I am cashiering at my store on an early Friday morning, the line is ridiculously long, and I only have one other cashier beside me. There isn’t another manager currently in the store besides the stockroom manager; I rarely bother him because I know there is a lot going on it the stockroom. I end up checking out a customer with a small child, and the interaction with him makes my early day completely worth it.) 

Me: “Hi, how are y’all today?” 

(The mother lets her young boy answer.) 

Child: “We are great! My favorite superhero is Spider-Man!” 

Me: “Really?! That’s my favorite too! I would love to shoot webs and swing through the city!” 

(As I continue to ring up their items, he continues to talk to me.) 

Child: “I also like Captain America and Iron Man!” 

Me: “They are awesome! I love Captain America’s shield! And Iron Man’s armor!” 

Child: “I want to be a superhero when I grow up!” 

Me: “You already are, kid; don’t ever forget that.” 

(His mom started tearing up and told me her husband had recently passed and he had always said the same thing to their child. She ended up hugging me and the little boy followed her and hugged me, too. I now see them every couple of weeks and try to keep superhero stickers on me to give to the little boy.)