Me: “Aloha! [Hotel] operator. How may I help you?”

Guest: “Hi, I wanted to know if you guys charge for parking, and how much?”

Me: “Yes. We charge $29 for self-parking and $36 if you are going to use our valet services.”

(This seems really high, but for Waikiki, this is pretty good.)

Guest: “Oh, but my car is going to be one of those smaller smart cars. Do I get a discount for that?”

Me: *a couple of seconds of pause to register this* “No, ma’am. The price will be the same, because you are paying for the space.”

Guest: “But it’s not as big as a regular car. There’s no discount?”

Me: “No, ma’am, the price will remain the same, as long as you park within our parking structure.”

Guest: “Well, okay. Thanks.” *obviously disappointed and agitated, hangs up*

(I’m ringing up an older gentleman who is buying one bottle of wine.)

Me: “Do you have your [Store Rewards] card?”

Customer: “Not on me. My phone number is [number].”

Me: “Thanks. May I have your birthdate for the alcohol?”

Customer: “No. I don’t give out personal information.”

(It’s my birthday and I’m on my honeymoon so I’ve been enjoying a cocktail poolside before heading up to my room with my husband. I’m a little tipsy but in a great mood. A couple enters the elevator and I make friendly conversation.)

Me: “Where are you visiting from?”

Woman: “Ohio.”

Me: “How awesome! We are visiting from New York City.”

Woman: “Oh, I wouldn’t have guessed you are from NYC from your attitude.”

Me: “Well, I can tell you to go f*** yourself, if you want?”

(The woman gives me a shocked blank stare and the doors open to my floor.)

Me: “Well, have a nice day!”

(My husband couldn’t stop laughing.)

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(Every time my sister has a nightmare or sees a scary movie, she finds her way to my room.)

Sister: “Can I sleep in your bed?”

Me: “What was it this time?”

Sister: “I dreamt a crazy hobo was attacking me.”

Me: “Fine. Get in.”

(It is warm, so I have been sweating while I slept.)

Sister: “Your bed stinks.”

Me: “Is it as bad as the hobo?”

Sister: “No.”

Me: “Then shut up and go to sleep.”

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(I am a Japanese teacher. I am presiding over homeroom. A female student, who had a pretty serious fight with her boyfriend in the hall before homeroom, is intently writing on a piece of paper.)

Student: “Ugh, I can’t do this anymore!”

(She throws down her pen and calls up to me.)

Student: “Love is too hard!”

Me: “Well, I know it always seems that way after having a fight. But, you know, people have disagreements all the time and work through them. Besides, you’re still young, and part of this age is discovering how to be in a relationship with others. I am sure he is just as upset as you are.”

(She looks at me quizzically and then holds up the paper she is working on.)

Student: “I meant trying to write it in Japanese for your homework.”

Me: “Oh. Yeah. That can be hard, too.”

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