(As my grandmother hits her very, very late 90s she becomes frail, and her hearing and eyesight begin to dim. Her speech also gets so slow it almost sounds like she pauses between words. But other than that, she has no outstanding health problems, so she’s doing well. She has just had her 102nd birthday, and we, of course, make sure to visit. Thankfully, her mind is still there.)

Grandmother: *on the topic of her birthday* “People keep asking me what my secret is. I tell them to just keep eating!”

(I am in the screening line for an international flight, LONG before 9/11. A little old lady goes through a metal detector, and sets off fourteen different kinds of alarms. She walks on as if nothing happened. The security guard looks at her and shrugs, shakes his head, and waves me to go through the metal detector. I pass with no alarms, and quickly catch up with the little old lady.)

Little Old Lady: *with a big smile* “Humph! He didn’t think I could be a terrorist, did he?!”

Me: “Welcome to [Company]. My name is [My Name]. How can I help you?

Caller: “I need some assistance with my Internet connection; it’s not working.”

Me: “I can assist you with that. Let me grab some details about your account and take a look.”

(I proceed to gather account information and notice that the caller is in her late 80s. After testing the connection, I notice that our systems are showing that nothing is connected to the data socket in the premises.)

Me: “Okay, I think I may have identified the issue. Do you know where the data socket is in your home?”

Caller: “Yes, it’s under my dining table.”

Me: “No problem. I just need you to check the cable connection, as it may have come loose or have been knocked out of the socket.”

Caller: “Give me a minute, love; I’ve got to get under the table.”

(I hear the caller put the phone down and there are a few grunts as she climbs under the table. She picks up the phone again.)

Caller: “You know, I’ve only known you for five minutes, and I’m already down on my knees.”

(I start giggling, but do not attempt to mute my microphone.)

Caller: “I don’t just do this for any man, you know.”

Me: *uncontrollable laughter*

(The caller finds that her cable was unplugged from the socket accidentally. After reconnecting it, her service begins working normally.)

Caller: “Thanks so much for that, and I’m sorry for being inappropriate.”

Me: “Don’t apologize; you have made my day. I am glad your service is working.”

(I work at a luxury car dealership as an advisor, but I’m also often stuck doing diagnostics on vehicles, trying to figure out what is wrong. An old lady, probably in her mid to late 80s, comes in with her car, and her small, shaky dog. I have seen this customer before, and she’s always really nice to us, never rude. She complains about a buzzing in her car.)

Me: “Hello, ma’am, what seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “Well, there is an odd buzzing sound coming from the car, on and off, that started… oh… twenty minutes ago?”

Me: “All right, ma’am, may I check out the vehicle to see what the issue is?”

Customer: “Sure thing.”

(I get in the car and start it up. I hear no buzzing noise, but that may be because her dog is panting loudly in my ear.)

Me: “I don’t hear anything. When does this sound occur?”

Customer: “It just does. Try taking it out on the highway?”

Me: “All right.”

(We get on the highway, and almost as soon as we get on, she says she hears it.)

Me: “I can’t hear anything; are you sure?”

Customer: “Oh, absolutely. It’s lou—”

(She pauses with a puzzled look on her face.)

Customer: “I wonder if it’s my hearing aid?!”

(It was her hearing aid.)

(I’m working as a traffic director at the state fair with several other people. We all have radios. I’m directing traffic along a road with a few other directors, all about a yard apart.)

Radio: “Come in, supervisor. We have a problem.”

Supervisor: “Yes, what’s the problem?”

Radio: “Um… There’s an old lady here at the tracks. She’s driving around the track and throwing plastic cups at people. She’s mad. I need backup.”

Supervisor: *stifled laughter* “I’m on my way.”

(The call ended, and my whole line was doubled over in laughter. The job was dull but calls like that made it.)