(I am at a business conference. The dinner for the conference that night is at a restaurant. Because the conference is paying for drinks, they are carding at the door. I’m Mormon, and therefore don’t drink. I’m not familiar with how these types of places work — since I don’t drink, I don’t frequent them — and I do bear some responsibility for not knowing how carding procedures work. In line, I step up to him.)

Door Guy: “Do you have ID?”

Me: “I don’t drink.”

Door Guy: “Doesn’t matter. The drinks are generally available in the layout, so everyone needs ID.”

Me: “Oh. I’m 25. Let me dig out my license.”

Door Guy: “You should have had it ready!”

Me: “I apologize. As I said, I don’t drink. I didn’t know you needed them for everyone.”

Door Guy: “You should have known!”

Me: “I’m sorry; I don’t drink, so I don’t know how this works.”

Door Guy: *scoffs* “Sure you don’t drink! You were hoping I’d let you through without ID because of that.”

Me: *showing him my license* “Here it is. See, I’m 25.”

Door Guy: “That’s a fake.”

Me: “No, it’s not.”

Door Guy: “Utah is the easiest state to fake their licenses. That’s a fake.”

Me: “Or I just live in Utah.”

Door Guy: “You tried to get out of showing ID, and then you give me the most faked state.”

Me: “I really am sorry that I didn’t have it ready. I didn’t know, because I don’t usually have this situation as I don’t drink.”

Door Guy: “People don’t just not drink.”

Me: “It’s for religious reasons. I’m Mormon.”

Door Guy: “A likely story.”

Me: “No, really.”

(Not sure what else to do, I hold up my hand which has a CTR ring, a common Mormon jewelry. Though generally only worn by Mormons, there’s no reason that someone else couldn’t wear one. It’s a bit like a Jew wearing a Star of David. There’s no reason someone else couldn’t wear one, but there’s no reason they would. The door guy looks at my hand.)

Door Guy: “Oh, you really are. Come on in!”

(I’m still not sure why he doubted the valid ID, but wearing a ring? Proof!)

(My family and I are on vacation. We also own a garbage company.)

Me: “Hey, mom, your phone is ringing.”

Mom: *picks up phone* “Hello, this is [Mom].”

Customer: “Why the h*** didn’t you pick up my garbage?”

Mom: “I’m sorry, we are on vacation and have someone different driving. He may just be running late.”

Customer: “I don’t care what’s happening. Get my garbage picked up right now, b****!”

Mom: “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you because I’m 1000 miles away.”

Customer: “Come get my f******* trash!”

(This continues for about 30 minutes.)

Customer: “Listen, if you don’t come get my trash right now I’m going to quit with your service.”

Mom: “Fine, we don’t need a customer like you anyway. Thanks for ruining my f****** vacation.” *hangs up*

(My decoder short circuited and I’m on the phone with the technical support desk trying to convince them of that fact. Note: I’m living within walking distance of their HQ, where tech support is located. By now, I have left my house, decoder in hand.)

Tech: “Sir, I really don’t know what else to say. I pinged your decoder and got a reply back. All is in good working order.”

Me: “You pinged it just now?”

Tech: “Yes, sir.”

Me: “And it showed the decoder properly connected?”

Tech: “Yes, sir, the same as ten minutes ago.”

Me: “I see. Do you have the serial number of my decoder?”

Tech: *clearly thinking I lost my sanity* “Of course, sir.”

Me: “Good.”

(I have arrived at the reception and approach the woman on the counter.)

Me: “Miss, would you please read the serial number out loud?”

(By now I have arrived at HQ and I shove my decoder under the nose of the girl at the reception desk.)

Receptionist: *clearly humouring a madman, she starts reading the number*

Tech: “[Receptionist], is that you?”

(Five minutes later and the tech was at reception exchanging my clearly fried decoder for a new one. Pinged or not, there is no better proof than the acrid smell of burnt circuits.)

(This college is located at the base of a mountain. It even has a ski run on it. If you drive two hours south you are in Phoenix which is at a much lower elevation. The fellow student in this story is from San Diego and two years older than I am. I am a sophomore. It is mid-Autumn, and before smart phones.)

Me: “Brrr, it is cold; I am so tired of this wind. We should take a trip to Phoenix and warm up!”

Guy: “If you are cold why don’t you go to the top of the mountain and warm up there?”

Me: *confused* “You mean take a hike? I guess. I don’t really want to hike, though, and it would still be cold.”

Guy: “No, the top of the mountain is warmer because it is closer to the sun. If you drive to Phoenix you are going further away from it and it will just get colder.”

Me: “What? No, that isn’t how it works; you’re kidding, right? I mean, you do know it snows on top of mountains and stuff?”

Guy: “Well, yeah, but just because there is snow doesn’t mean it’s colder in top of the mountain.”

Me: “Okaaayyy, you do know about the equator and the tilt of the earth right? And atmosphere?”

Guy: “Duh, I had real science. I wasn’t home-schooled like you.”

Me: “…really? I’m not the one who thinks that a 12,000 foot mountain top is warmer than a city that’s barely a thousand feet above sea level because it’s ‘closer to the sun”!”

(The argument continued for a while. He never believed me.)

Customer: “Hello, what street are you located on?”

Me: “[Street], in between [Road #1] and [Road #2], opposite the big toy store.”

Customer: “Are you on the left or right hand side on the road?”

Me: *silence and confusion* “Um…”