(I am a HUGE Potterhead. My mom is highly religious and thinks that anything to do with “witchery” is evil.)

Mom: “Honey, is this your necklace?” *holds out locket*

Me: *gasps* “Slytherin’s locket!”

(I grab a butter knife, or “Gryffindor’s sword,” and stab the necklace repeatedly.)

Mom: “Uhm…”

Me: “Two more Horcruxes to go. Woo! LETS GO KILL VOLDEMORT!”

(My mom just stared in silent horror.)

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(I’m a math teacher and am sitting at lunch with another math teacher, a history teacher, and the guidance counselor.)

Other Math Teacher: “I read a great joke yesterday! What do you get when you cut the diameter from the circumference of a pumpkin?”

Me: “I don’t know, what?”

Other Math Teacher: “PIE!”

(He and I burst into laughter while the other two look at us oddly).

Me: “That’s great!”

History Teacher: “You two are losers.”

Me: “But we love it!”

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(My friend and I are really big Doctor Who fans, and we are also crafty. One day, she makes me a T.A.R.D.I.S. bracelet out of duct tape. FYI: the T.A.R.D.I.S. is the Doctor’s transport and is in the shape of big, blue police box. I am working in the drive-thru when this took place.)

Me: “Hello, that is going to be [price].”

Customer: *hands me her money*

Me: “Your change is [amount].”

Customer: “What an interesting bracelet!”

Me: “Oh, thank you. A friend of mine made it.”

Customer: “What is it supposed to be?”

(I’m holding my hand out so that she can take a better look at it.)

Me: “It’s a Tardis.”

Customer: *blank look*

Me: “Ma’am?”

Customer: “That is just terrible!”

Me: “Huh?”

Customer: “Using the ‘R’ word isn’t bad enough for you kids? Now you have to come up with some slang term? That is terrible!”

Me: “The… ‘R’ word?”

Customer: “R*TARD!”

Me: “Ma’am, the Tardis is a shop from a sci-fi show… not slang for r*tard.”

Customer: “Don’t you give me any excuses, little missy. You are in a lot of trouble. Wearing something to promote calling r*tards r*tarded is despicable. I need to speak to your manager!”

(Despite trying to explain otherwise, my manager had to give her a free coupon to keep her from calling corporate to complain. I also can’t wear the bracelet to work anymore. It sometimes sucks being a nerdy girl in a small town.)

(My husband and I are both huge nerds, obsessed with anything to do with science and video games. He’s currently playing “Skyrim,” a fantasy game with beautifully rendered dragons. I happily note that the dragons actually look plausible. A pet peeve of mine is “unrealistic-looking” fantasy creatures. This leads to a long discussion/argument about how to build a truly plausible dragon via evolution. I, a marine biologist, have referenced everything from iguana tails to egret necks to various species of bats’ wings and even proto-birds like archaeopteryx, over the last hour to cobble this thing together, but my husband, the physicist, is still unsatisfied.)

Husband: “That’s all well and good, but you’ve only given me possibilities, and things that could maybe fly, given the right size-scale and circumstances.”

Me: “Sweetheart, I would be happy to genetically engineer a functioning dragon in our kitchen for you, but I think I’d end up doing something illegal in the process.”

Husband: “We’d probably get evicted.”

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(There is a large anime convention at our hotel. During these conventions, many guests dress up as their favorite characters. Some even go all-out and will wear body paint or mascot suits, carry fake weapons, etc. Even during these conventions, non-convention goers stay in the hotel. I am working the front desk and am approached by a very angry guest.)

Me: “How may I help you today?”

Guest: “Kick these d***ed freaks out of this hotel! They’re disturbing my children!”

Me: “I’m very sorry, ma’am. The event is already going on, and all of these people have paid to attend.”

Guest: “They’re disturbing my children! They have weapons! They’re dangerous freaks!”

Me: “We wouldn’t allow real weapons on the convention floor. All weapons have been checked, and all of them are props. I can assure you that no one here will harm your children with their weapons.”

Guest: “You’re lying! You’re just covering up for this… cult! It’s a cult of dangerous freaks with weapons!”

Me: “Ma’am, there is no cult activity.”

Guest: “If it’s not a cult, then why are they painted grey? And why are they wearing devil horns? They’re the headmasters of the cult!” *motions to a nearby group in costume*

Me: “They’re in costumes. This is an anime convention. Many people dress up in costumes. That group is dressed up as characters from [Popular Webcomic]. They’re not a cult.”

Guest: “You’re lying! They’re a devil-worshiping cult! They’re going to wait until midnight, then sacrifice all the virgins to Satan!”

Me: “Actually, the only thing happening at midnight tonight is the convention’s dance.”

Guest: “A dance with the devil! You even admitted it! They’re a cult of devil-worshipers!”

Me: “I never said that.”

Guest: “And them, over there! In the animal costumes!” *motions to a group of people in mascot suits* “They’re going to perform strange sex acts on innocent people at the cult meeting tonight! How dare you let this happen?!”

Me: “Ma’am, if you would listen to me—”

(There is now a long line of people waiting to be helped behind her, most of whom look upset with the way this guest is talking.)

Guest: *turns around to the people in line* “Don’t check into this hotel! They let crazy cults of devil-worshippers bring weapons in to sacrifice virgins and then have sex!” *runs off*

Next Guest in line: “…Heh. Normal people are funny. Can I please have some extra towels?”

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