(I’m 15 years old. I’m at my general practitioner, because I noticed I’ve been having trouble with my eyesight.)

Me: “I can see quite all right with my left eye, but when I only use my right eye, I notice a clear difference in brightness.”

Doctor: “Hmm, let’s see. Could you cover your left eye?”

(The doctor walks to a board with letters and starts pointing at them.)

Me: “B… C… F… X…”

(The doctor goes to the smaller letters, which are more difficult to read. But at some point, I’m totally unable to see where he is pointing.)

Doctor: “This one, please.”

Me: *no verbal reaction*

Doctor: “Hello? [My Name]! This one! Can you read it?”

Me: “I can’t see what letter you are pointing at.”

Doctor: “Oh, wait. Maybe I shouldn’t use a white pen on a white background for this.”

(After handing an order — a sandwich with cheese — out the drive-through window, I walk away. The customer starts banging on the window and yelling for me to come back. When I return, the customer holds the now-unwrapped sandwich out to me.)

Customer: “There’s no cheese on this sandwich!”

(There is definitely cheese on the sandwich. It is melted, and stringy, and sticking to the wrapper at the sides of the sandwich. I don’t really know how to respond, so…)

Me: “Oh, uh… I’m sorry… about that… let me fix it for you…”

(I take the sandwich back. I walk back to the girl who is making sandwiches. I explain the situation to her, and we both have a bit of a chuckle. Then, I re-wrap the same sandwich and take it back to him. He unwraps it, checking it for cheese.)

Customer: “Ah, you made it right this time. I guess sometimes we all make mistakes, right? Thank you!”

(And with that, he drove off. Yes, sir, sometimes we ALL make mistakes.)

(I go to a restaurant with my family for no special occasion other than no one wanted to cook. When we get there, we sit down, and our waitress takes our drink orders and returns with them very quickly. Most of this conversation takes place in French, but I will translate.)

Waitress #1: “What can I get you today?”

Mom: “Soup and salad.”

Sister: “Cactus chips—” *thick potato chips with a spicy dip* “—and a jambalaya, but with gluten-free noodles, please.”

Waitress #1: *missed the gluten-free part* “Okay, would you like garlic or cheesy bread?”

Sister: “No, gluten-free, please.”

(The waitress make a correction on her pad.)

Waitress #1: “Oh, yes. Sorry.”

(I know I will mispronounce the name of what I want in French, so I just point to the picture.)

Waitress #1: “Okay, perfect.” *leaves to put in the order*

(The waitress brings the cactus chips and my mom’s soup with no problem. It is when the main course arrives that things get funny. [Waitress #2] brings our food. My sister is given gluten-free noodles with some mystery sauce on it. It is clearly not her jambalaya.)

Sister: “I ordered a jambalaya with gluten-free noodles.”

([Waitress #2] is confused, but takes it for the correction.)

Waitress #1: *comes out after being informed of the mistake, while filling water glasses at another table* “Oh, I am so sorry. It is my fault; I entered it in wrong.”

Sister: “Oh, it’s okay. We understand the mistake.”

(The waitress sees my mom’s nearly empty lemonade glass. It looks a bit like ice water and not lemonade, and the waitress fills it with her water pitcher. While filling she realizes her mistake.)

Waitress #1: “This wasn’t water, was it?”

(We all lose it and burst out laughing. My mom tears up from laughing so hard. While we compose ourselves, the waitress replaces her drink.)

Waitress #1: *with the new lemonade* “I am so sorry, again.”

Mom: “It is okay; that was hilarious! We do understand. But it is getting late and we have to go; can you put that jambalaya directly into a to-go container for us?”

Waitress #1: “Sure.”

(Later, [Waitress #2] is trying to help her colleague and brings out the jambalaya. We are trying not to laugh at this waitress, and when she leaves we just snicker about the new mistake. [Waitress #1] returns to the prep area, sees the food is missing, and hurries to our table.)

Waitress #1: “Sorry, when I went in for your food it was already gone. I will take it and put it in a to-go container for you.” *takes the food and leaves*

Me: *when the waitress returns so we can pay* “Don’t worry. You know, there is always that one table where, no matter what you do, nothing goes right.”

Waitress #1: *relieved* “Yes, and unfortunately it was you guys, today.”

(While paying we told her some other mishaps that happened to us in other restaurants, like the time I had a ketchup bottle explode in my face. We left her a nice tip. We are calling this outing the comedy of errors. We want this waitress again; I mean, you can’t beat this two-for-one special: buy food get a free show.)

(My awesome boss is a very butch lesbian who’s very open about her sexuality and has a gender-neutral name. Our office helps students deal with their accounts. On our website’s “contact us” section, our office number is listed under my boss’s name without her title. Here’s how a third of our calls go:)

Caller: “Can I speak with Mr. [Boss]?”

Me: “Maybe I could help you instead. What are you having issues with?”

Caller: “I want to talk to Mr. [Boss]. I know him personally.”

Me: “She’s working on a project right now. Maybe if you tell me the problem, I can help you.”

(Most people will give in and let me or a coworker help them, but some persist.)

Caller: “I need to talk to [Boss]. If you don’t get him now, I’ll tell him later how incompetent you are.”

Me: *sigh* “Can I have your name and student ID?”

(The caller gives me the info.)

Me: “All right, I’m directing you to her line.”

(Later:)

Boss: “Hey, [My Name], why did you forward [Caller] to me? He couldn’t figure out how to submit the financial aid app.”

Me: *internal groaning*

(My mom has never had any luck with financial companies, whether they take out too much money or forget to take out any at all. On this night my mom, my two brothers, and I are cooking supper, when my work calls. We never check the home phone, and my job calling prompts my mom to check the messages. There’s been a message saying that if she doesn’t call back this financial company about her mortgage, they will take legal action. She calls them back.)

Mom: “Hi, I just got the message about my mortgage. What’s going on?”

Caller #1: “Yes, we never got your last payment.”

Mom: “It was supposed to go out on [date]. Did it not?”

Caller #1: “Oh, yes. Now I see; it’s in the notes.”

(They get it all figured out, and we are just finishing cooking when the phone rings.)

Mom: “Hello?”

Caller #2: “Hello, may I speak to [Mom]?”

Mom: “Speaking?”

Caller #2: “Yes, I’m calling because your last payment never went out.”

Mom: “I just spoke to someone not five minutes ago; we got it all figured out.”

Caller #2: “Oh, yeah. It’s right here in the notes.”

(She hangs up and we sit down for dinner. The phone rings again.)

Mom: “This is the third call in the last hour. I have spoken to someone.”

Caller #3: “Oh, yes. It’s right here, in the notes.”

(My mom hangs up.)

Me: “Next time they call, you should just say, ‘Check the notes,’ and hang up.”