(I’m a customer here. It’s hot, it’s muggy, and I’m fresh off of work as well as feeling pretty wrung out. I’m not exactly the most attentive, so I’m mostly keeping to myself as I do my shopping. Instead of waiting in line, I take advantage of the self-check out and am ringing up my groceries when an older woman slams a bag of cherries down on the check out next to me, and stands there. Staring. Again, sorta zombie here, didn’t notice until she started clearing her throat.)

Me: “…can I help you?”

Stranger: “Yes! You can give me your member card!”

(For the record, this grocery store only has a savings and gas card; it does not, nor has it ever, required a membership to shop here.)

Me: “Uh… well, first off, no. Secondly, why not just go get your own? They’re free at the customer service desk.”

Stranger: “Just give me yours!”

Me: “Again, no.”

(I don’t have the physical card since it’s a family card, but like hell is she getting the phone number on it.)

Me: “Just go get yourself one if you live in town; if you don’t, well, suck it up and pay the extra what, fifty cents?”

Stranger: “How dare you, you f****** c***! I HAVE BEEN A PILLAR OF THIS COMMUNITY FOR ALMOST FIFTY YEARS. HOW DARE YOU TREAT YOUR BETTERS WITH SUCH DISRESPECT!”

Me: *when she finally ran out of breath* “…well, d***. And here I thought you were just a stuck up b****. Now I know the difference; you’re a b**** with that pillar stuck clear up your a**. Enjoy the cherries.”

(The look on her face warmed my cold, dead heart quite nicely, I must admit.)

(I work in an insurance sales office. I occasionally have to field calls from people who are irritated by getting solicitation letters from us. Generally these are letters that have been sent out by the corporate office, but have the local agent’s name as the sender. There’s not a lot I can do but apologize and try to elicit the name and address so I can put them on our internal “do not mail” list. Sometimes they don’t want to give me that information and if that’s the case, there’s really nothing I can do for them.)

Caller: “I received a letter from you addressed to [Full Name With Middle Name #1], but my name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2].”

(The first and last names are identical.)

Me: “Okay, what kind of letter is it?”

Caller: “It’s a letter. But my name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2]. It is not [Full Name With Middle Name #1]. My father’s name is [Full Name With Middle Name #1].”

(I try mightily to discover if it is a solicitation letter, or if this caller is an actual customer of Insurance Company so I can figure out what to do with him.)

Caller: “I have an insurance policy with [Insurance Company]. My name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2].”

(I can’t find him in our database anywhere so I try the tack that I can take him off the mailing list if he will give me his address. He finally does, insisting all the while that he is Full Name With Middle Name #2. His father’s name is Full Name With Middle Name #1 but he lives in California. I offer again to take his address off the mailing list. He finally gives me the address.)

Caller: “The letter came to my address. It says ‘20% off.’”

(Ah, it is a solicitation letter!)

Caller: “But my name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2].”

Me: “I understand that. I expect some database somewhere has some wrong information in it.”

(We cycle through this part a couple more times.)

Me: “Would you like a quote for insurance?”

Caller: “I already have insurance with you.”

Me: *he doesn’t, but who cares?* “In that case, what is it you want me to do?”

Caller: “My name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2]. The letter came to my address but it says [Full Name With Middle Name #1].”

Me: *getting beyond tired of going around this circle* “I get that. Was there something you were hoping to accomplish with this phone call?”

Caller: “My name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2]. I got this letter at my address but it says [Full Name With Middle Name #1].”

Me: “I understand. Since it is not for you, I suggest that you throw it away.”

Caller: “But my name is [Full Name With Middle Name #2].”

Me: “Yes. You should throw the letter away because it is not for you.”

Caller: *very reluctantly* “I guess I will throw it away.”

Me: “Yes, you do that.”

Caller: *still reluctant* “I will throw it away.”

Me: “Yes, throw it away. Goodbye.” *hangs up*

(My boss overheard my side of this conversation and told me I was “too nice.” And he let me ignore the phone when the guy called again a few minutes later. Thank goodness he didn’t leave a message so I didn’t have to return the call!)

(I’m sitting in Spanish class when I overhear this conversation:)

Teacher: “You had the whole weekend to work on this paper. Why didn’t you do it?”

Student: “I couldn’t send emails!”

(It was a paper assignment.)

My school has a cafeteria with high ceilings and windows with ledges about 30 feet up the wall. My classmates have been adamantly practicing the bottle flipping that has been going around the Internet, but as the class clown I know I can’t be outdone by some freshman with a sports drink bottle.

The cafeteria sells special juice bottles that I decide will be perfect for my stunt. I buy one, empty it to about right for bottle flipping, and stand near a wall. Keep in mind I haven’t told anyone what I’m going to do, but soon a couple people see me and the entire cafeteria quickly silences.

I can see the administrator giving me the stink eye, but I don’t let that stop me. I toss the bottle up and by some stroke of luck it lands perfectly on the ledge and the whole room fills with cheers.

I got detention for a lunchroom violation, but each day another food item appeared on the ledge. First there was applesauce, then a box of milk, another water bottle, and finally a sandwich, before the school finally posted an SRO near the ledge to watch for people like me.

(I have recently moved and joined a local Boy Scout troop. It is the first morning of a camping trip.)

Scout #1: “Hey, [My Name], do you hate little bunny rabbits?”

Me: “What?”

Scout #1: “You were talking in your sleep last night. You kept saying, ‘I hate little bunny rabbits.'”

Me: “Ohhh. Yeah, in the town I moved, from there’s a running joke that if you say, ‘I hate little bunny rabbits,’ three times, the campfire smoke won’t blow in your face.”

Scout #2: “Maybe I should try that. I’ve moved four times and it keeps following me. I hate little bunny rabbits. I hate little bunny rabbits. I hate little bunny rabbits.”

(The smoke doesn’t move.)

Scout #2: “Oh, well, you know what they say. Smoke follows beauty.”

(At that exact moment, the smoke started blowing in the opposite direction.)

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