My teenage daughter asked me to pick up a couple of candles for her on Annual Candle Day at a popular bath store. Little did I know, she was pulling one over on me. Crowds make me cringe. You absolutely will not find me out fighting over items on Black Friday. If someone really wants something that badly, they must need it more than I do.

I am standing in this pool of fairly friendly people waiting for our turn to check out the candle selection. I put my earbuds in and get music going quietly to help control my anxiety. Suddenly, a well-to-do-looking older woman taps me on the shoulder and starts yakking at me with a pissed-off look on her face. I pull my earbuds out of my ears.

Me: *Politely* “I’m sorry! I had my music playing. What did you say?”

She shoves a coupon four inches from my face.

Woman: “I saiiiiiid, can I use this on the candles?”

Me: “Oh. I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m not really sure. Let’s ask someone.”

I smile at her and start looking around to see if I can spot an employee.

Woman: “My God! Well, you work here, don’t you?”

I glance down at my hairstylist attire — solid black everything — and wonder how the H*** she could have mistaken me for an employee.

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

With that, she threw her hands up in the air and stormed out of the store, mumbling to herself. She was obviously upset that she couldn’t just command some rando to answer her coupon question. I’m still trying to figure out if I really looked like an employee or if I just look like a person who knows stuff.

In 2016, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Due to the cancer being estrogen-related, she opted out of chemotherapy and decided that the mastectomy and pills would be enough. I supported her 100% and even argued against doctors and my father when they tried to pressure her.

Two years later, her thyroid started acting up. She went in for multiple biopsies. While we waited for results, I started Googling if the breast cancer could have metastasized into her thyroid. A week went by, and she went to her regular doctor and was told that the results were cancer. We got a nice report that said whatever they found was malignant.

We were devastated, and I blamed myself for not pushing chemo on my mom. We got the results Wednesday and had to wait until Monday to see her cancer doctor. It was a bad week. The day of the appointment, I tagged along with my mom and dad so I could be kept informed. The doctor walked into the office smiling.

Doctor: “How are we doing today?”

Mom: “I don’t know, you tell me. Do you know what stage it is? Has it spread?”

Doctor: “Cancer?”

Mom: “In the thyroid?”

Doctor: “You don’t have cancer.”

Mom: “What? They told me it was cancer.”

That was apparently shocking enough that the doctor left the room to go talk with the other doctors who did the biopsy.

Doctor: “Well, I mean it’s not not cancer. We don’t know exactly what’s wrong. It needs to come out for sure, but it’s probably not cancer, and if it was, it’d be stage zero and not dangerous.”

I sat in silence while the doctor hashed out treatment and surgery options with my parents. I felt relieved but also annoyed and confused. 

Me: “I read the report, though. Why’d they put ‘malignant’ if they didn’t know?”

Doctor: “Oh, well, sometimes they just need to put something on the report.”

It wasn’t cancer, by the way. The thyroid was two times bigger and three times heavier than it should have been and covered in nodes, but my mom made a full recovery and is healthy.

I have a coworker who has a completely different conversation in her head than what actually happens. As a result, they always walk away feeling like the conversation went exactly as she thought it would go. However, it really never does because she cannot be forward with people to save her life. Unfortunately, she then conveys the conversation to our boss based on her conversation with herself.

Two things to note: 1) I recently bought a house on the edge of town. 2) We have a new intern who lives in the middle of town, does not drive, and is Asian.

Coworker: “I don’t know exactly where you live. How long does it take you to get to work?”

This is a lie, by the way, because she went into my personnel file to snoop and told another coworker about it.

Me: “Oh, not much longer now that I can go around town rather than through it. Actually, it takes less time despite living seven miles further east.”

Coworker: “And how do you drive?”

Me: “I just take [Highway].”

Coworker: “What?”

Me: “It is the highway for going to [Major Mountain]?”

Coworker: “Jesus. That doesn’t seem right. You don’t go down [Major Street on the west side]?”

Me: *Confused* “No?”

Coworker: “So, you don’t go down [Major Street]?”

Me: “No. I mean I pass it on [Highway] to get to work, but that is it.”

Coworker: *Annoyed* “Well, anyway, [New Intern] is going to be working with us. They are like [Coworker #2] and don’t drive.”

She tried to get me to drive [Coworker #2] to work but I refused unless they paid for my insurance in addition to company insurance, the difference in gas mileage, and travel time. They were also paying [Coworker #2] $3 extra dollars an hour for transportation so I didn’t feel really inclined to do it.

Me: “Well, that isn’t too bad. They live a whole lot closer than [Coworker #2].”

Coworker: “I would hate for [New Intern] to take the bus because of all the hate crimes. And I don’t want to have to pay for a [Ride Share Service] all the time.”

Me: “…”

Coworker: “I am just not sure what to do.”

Me: “I am sure you will figure it out!”

Of course, she took that conversation to mean that I would go fifteen minutes out of my way to drive this intern and told the boss this. I had to remind them that I did not feel comfortable carpooling as official company business without them paying for insurance, wear and tear on my car, and time going out of my way. Once more, they shut up about it, only after having egg on their face because they had to rescind the offer she shouldn’t have made in the first place.

We have about eight tables waiting, and I am bringing in a three-top to sit at one of our high-top tables, just as a lady and her friend are sitting down. This lady comes in frequently, usually by herself, and she’s just annoying.

Me: “I’m sorry, we are on a wait. I’m seating these folks, but I can put you on the list.”

I walk away for no more than a minute and come back.

Regular: “We know them! Can you add a couple of chairs for us?”

Me: *Looking around* “There are no open chairs or bar stools; every single one is taken right now.”

Regular: “What about next door? Can you take a couple from there? And why are they so busy?”

We have a separate bar next door that handles the people waiting and has TVs for games, etc.

Me: “No, we are at capacity due to [health crisis] restrictions, and they are so busy because there are eight parties waiting for tables!”

I admit I’m bulls***ting about the restrictions a little.

Next, the regular starts putting her coat and bag on a bar chair that just opened up, and my bartender tells her she needs to move it because we are going to seat some people there who have been WAITING.

Regular: *To me* “Gosh, I come here all the time. I just didn’t know what was going on. Wow, I just thought we could find a place to sit.”

I finally get her and her friend next door, and then I go back and take the order for the three-top that she had originally tried to join.

Customer: “Thank you so much for taking care of that! We barely know her. I worked with her like ten years ago, and it was really weird that she tried to join us.”

I work the counter of a very small bakery. There are two other people I share shifts with, the owner is one of two bakers, and I’m technically the cake decorator but I work the counter so that I can earn consistent money. Small. You get it.

Despite this, we get many orders for cakes and other goodies. Unbeknownst to me, the man who called us yesterday placed an order for a cake to be mailed to him one state away. I only learn this when he calls to complain that it hasn’t arrived.

Me: “Good morning, [Bakery]!”

Caller: “Hi, I’m calling about a cake that was supposed to be delivered to [Town] yesterday. It hasn’t shown up yet.”

Me: “I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about the order, but I can give you my boss’s email address and you can send her a message. She’ll be able to help you better than I can.”

Caller: “I don’t have time to email anyone! I’m at work and I’m busy!”

Me: “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about the order.”

Caller: “Where’s the girl that took the order?! Can I talk to her?!”

Me: “I don’t know who took your order, sir. There’s like five of us here who answer the phone.”

Caller: “Where are the other five, then?! Are they anywhere around you?!”

Me: “No, I’m the only one here.”

Caller: “Well, that is just disgusting. How do you—”

Me: “Sir, we are a very small bakery. I’m the only person here and I’m trying to help you as best I can. I can give you the owner’s email and she will be able to help you.”

Caller: “Okay. Yes, I’ll email the owner. What’s the email?”

Me: “It’s [email address].”

Caller: “Thank you. I’ll email her.”

Me: “Okay, have a nice day!”

I texted my boss about it, just to let her know what had happened. She called me later to hear the full story because she was going to call and reprimand the caller for their behavior toward me. And the best part?

She checked the tracking number for the package. The cake had been delivered at 11:17 the morning before, when it was supposed to have been delivered.