I am a receptionist at a local mortgage company. Answering the phones is always a bit of a minefield. This happened to me this morning.

Me: “Good morning, this is [Company]!”

Caller: *Angrily* “Who is this?”

Me: “This is [Company].”

Caller: *Angrier* “I don’t have a mortgage!”

Me: “Oh, were you calling to talk to one of our loan officers?”

Caller: “I’m not selling my house! Why did you call me?!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, you called us. Were you trying to speak to anyone in particular or did anyone call you from this number?”

Caller: “No!”

Me: “Well, have a great day!”

Caller: “No!” *Hangs up*

(Our ice cream shop regularly gives free samples to customers making difficult decisions among the flavors.)

Customer: “Could I try the pistachio?”

Coworker: “Sure. Here you are.”

Customer: “Hmm. Get me a scoop of the cappuccino.”

(My coworker starts scooping the coffee ice cream while the customer tastes the pistachio.)

Customer: “Oh, s***. I can’t taste anything.”

Me: “What happened? Are you okay?”

Customer: “Oh, it’s okay. I just have a nut allergy, that’s all. But don’t worry; I didn’t actually bite down on the nut, so I’ll be perfectly okay.”

Me: “Oh… is there anything I can do for you? Do you have an EpiPen or something?”

Customer: “No, no. I did it on purpose. I just wanted to see what would happen to me.”

Coworker: “Okay… your total is $3.48… Have a nice day.”

(I have just gotten off my fourth 12-hour shift working for a game at a convention where I dress in a rubber monster suit and let players dressed as space marines shoot me with pellet guns. I am tired and sore as I slump into a booth next to a table of cosplayers dressed as characters from a webcomic)

Waitress: *with a strong southern accent* “You look tired, hon. What’ll you have?”

Me: “A peanut butter milkshake and the largest burger you have.”

(The milkshake comes, and I lose myself in a book I picked up on my lunch break. About fifteen minutes later, I’ve finished the drink but the burger still hasn’t come. I don’t care, because I’m getting to sit down.)

Waitress: “Sorry it’s taking so long.”

Me: “That’s fine; it’s busy with the convention. If you don’t mind me here, I don’t mind the wait.”

Waitress: “Let me get you some water, baby.”

Cosplayer: “What’s a water baby? She talks funny.”

(I rise up to my full 6’3” height and use my best monster voice)

Me: “I am tired. I am hungry. I just spent four days letting random people shoot at me. This woman is being a polite, excellent waitress, despite me having to wait so long for my food. Keep it up, and I’ll solve the problem by cooking and eating you.”

(The table suddenly find their sodas fascinating, and they leave soon after but don’t make another peep until then. My food comes, and then…)

Me: “I’m ready for the check when you have a minute.”

Waitress: “Oh, no, sweetie, someone as nice as you shouldn’t have had to wait so long for their food. You’re comped.”

Me: “Wait, no check? I was going to tip on my debit card. I only have two dollars cash on me, and you deserve much more. You’ve been amazing.”

(She took it and told me not to worry about it. Waitstaff who put up with large crowds of geeks so kindly deserve all the love in the world!)

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During my regular mammogram, the doctor saw a lump that they wanted better images of, so I went to the clinic for the diagnostic mammogram follow-up. In my mid-forties now, I used to be an exotic dancer years ago, and I’m not exactly shy.

The nurse was getting me prepped for the diagnostic mammogram. This involved a couple of magic marker lines for orientation. She also applied some kind of metal sticker to point to the area of interest.

She turned to put a note in the file and told me, “Give me two shakes and we’ll get this done and over with.”

Odd directions… but I gave her my best shimmy, making sure that the sticker stayed attached to my swinging breasts.

She laughed so hard that she dropped her pen and needed a minute to recollect her professional cool.

Apparently, she meant the phrase “in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” meaning, “in a short time.” She wasn’t expecting a show!

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(A work friend of mine is hacked on a social networking site, leading me to get a text from someone claiming to be him. I know immediately it isn’t him and I decide to have some fun. This is the exchange verbatim, grammatical errors and all:)

Faux Friend: “Hello How are you doing?”

Me: “I’m good, thanks. How about you?”

Faux Friend: “Good, Well Life Is Treating Me Good And God Has Blessed Me Through (PCH) , I Don’t Know If You Have Heard About Them?”

Me: “Pacific Coast Highway? I used to drive it all the time, back in the day.”

Faux Friend: “I Meant The Cash Donated To Randomly Selected People By The Publishers Clearing House(PCH) to Help and Support People Financially…You’ve Not Gotten Yours?”

Me: “You’re talking about the Illuminati, aren’t you?”

Faux Friend: “OMG. I Got $300,000 Cash From Them! But I Saw Your Name Entitled To The Cash Bonus When Mine Was Delivered To My Doorstep…And I Thought You Would Have Gotten Yours. Am Serious About This And It’s a Life Time Opportunity. Do You Know How To Contact The Claiming Agent To Find More About What Am Actually Talking About?”

Me: “I’ve told you before, I want nothing to do with them! They ruined my math teacher’s life! You should stay away from them! You don’t know what they’ll expect you to do for that money!”

Faux Friend: “This is real and legitimate I was only asked to pay for certificate fee which is $300 And I was delivered in 2 hours.”

Me: “It’s not about some measly $3,000 fee. It’s about what comes next. Have you sworn the oath already?”

Faux Friend: “And also there are a lot of scams am sure that’s why your teacher was scammed But PCH program is real and legitimate, more so I got my money delivered to my Doorstep”

Me: “You think the Illuminati is nothing but a scam? They’re the ones who murdered Vince Vaughn, not Hillary Clinton!”

Faux Friend: “I dont know about the illuminati program but, I will share you the direct PCH manager link so you can claim your winning money asap.. Thank me later you will never regret because asap you got your money you can also tell you Teacher about it…”

Me: “You need to give back that money before it’s too late.”

Faux Friend: “The money is mine [My Name] and not fake I can never pull your leg trust Me apply for it and thank God through me.”

Me: “I KNOW IT’S REAL MONEY!”

Faux Friend: “So you should not doubt me, I will share you now And also the federal government is aware of this and you will see the PCH is 100% real and is not a gimmick.”

Me: “Look, you probably have some time, a grace period. Come over; I’ll call Henry. He can get you someplace safe. Leave the money!”

Faux Friend: “[LINK TO “PCH”]”

Me: “Why couldn’t you just have joined the Scientologists, if you needed money so bad?”

Faux Friend: “Text them now that you are ready to claim your winning money.”

Me: “I’ll text saying you want out. Leave the money on the doorstep. And stay away from the windows!”

Faux Friend: “Just text them now and let me know how it goes… I want to hear the good news from you.”

Me: “I can’t. I’m calling your mother.”

(I never heard from him again. BTW, I deliberately changed his $300 to $3,000 because I wanted to keep him around. The thing about Hillary Clinton murdering Vince Vaughn came from I guy I met on a bus in 2009, who assured me he knew many things about her. I was disappointed not to be able to throw him off his game.)