(My husband is having a day-long series of medical tests at a Veterans Administration hospital in Kentucky. I drove him there, so I am camping out in the waiting room working on some homework on my laptop for the supply chain management courses I am taking online. I have been working for about an hour and a half when I am approached by an elderly man.)

Elderly Man: “What are you doing on that computer?”

Me: “I am a Transportation and Logistics Management student at [Well-Respected Online college]. I am working on the homework for my supply chain management courses.”

Elderly Man: “Why aren’t you going to nursing school?! Nursing is the only respectable occupation for a woman!”

Me: “What? I can’t qualify for nursing school because I had a stroke a few years ago and my right hand is partially paralyzed.”

(I hold up my right hand and show that I can only use my middle finger and thumb.)

Elderly Man: “But you could be a nurse if you tried harder! Why are you playing with that silly supply chain management stuff? Only men do that!”

Me: “I also have an active Class-A commercial driver’s license to drive tractor trailers.” *reaches into my purse to pull out my license* “I like transportation!”

Elderly Man: “But nurses are so sweet! You should be sweet like a nurse!” *motions to one of the VA nurses*

(The VA nurse chimes in:)

VA Nurse: “I wouldn’t want her as a nurse with that hand of hers. She would never pass nursing school, anyway. I have met [My Name] before, and that woman is planning on going to law school after she finishes her bachelor’s degree because of the way she has argued her husband’s VA disability claim.”

Elderly Man: “How disgraceful! A woman working as a truck driver and wanting to become a lawyer! Why can’t women be sweet and realize their place in the world?!”

(I put my earbuds on and cranked some Bon Jovi on my laptop and tried to ignore the old coot until he was called for his appointment.)

(When I was younger, we lived next to a family that we became good friends with. Fast forward to my senior year of high school. I’m looking for a job. One of the boys, a few years older than me, has become the manager of a fast food restaurant and has offered me a job, provided I submit an application first for him to accept.)

Mom: “When are you going to see [Friend] about that job?”

Me: “I was going to fill out an application online later today.”

Mom: *laughing* “No, you… You have to go in and submit the application at the restaurant.”

Me: “Uh… No. They hire online. After I fill out the form, I’ll call [Friend] and let him know I submitted it.”

Mom: “I still think you should go to [Restaurant] and do it there.”

(And we do. Both my parents insist on driving me to the restaurant so I can be there in person. In the ten minutes it takes to get there, I fill out the application online. I walk in, and am immediately spotted by the friend in question.)

Friend: “Hey, man, I didn’t expect to see you here. We actually do all of our hiring online.”

Me: “Yeah, I know. My parents made me come in here; they’re in the car. Come explain this to them.”

(We walk out, and when my parents see us they both get a smug grin.)

Friend: “Uh, hey, [Stepdad]. Just so you know, we don’t take walk-in applicants. If [My Name] wants to be hired here, he needs to submit an online request.”

Stepdad: “You didn’t say anything about that. You said he had to fill out an application.”

Friend: “Yeah, an online application.”

Stepdad: *scoffs* “Sure, whatever, man.”

Friend: *to me* “I’ll process your application tonight. You start on [Date]; bring two forms of ID.”

(Yep, no one ever listens to me. This is not the first time I had this conversation with them, but it’ll hopefully be the last!)

Me: “Hi. I’d like a four-for-four with a crispy chicken BLT, a [Soda], and barbecue sauce.”

Cashier: “All right, a four-for-four. What sandwich and drink?”

Me: “A crispy chicken BLT and a [Soda].”

Cashier: “A crispy chicken BLT. What drink?”

Me: “A [Soda].”

Cashier: “All right, a crispy chicken BLT with a [Soda]. And what to drink?”

Me: *confused pause* “A [Soda], please.”

Cashier: “And would you like any sauce?”

Me: “Yes, barbecue, please.”

Cashier: “All right. Which sandwich did you want?”

Me: “…”

(I’m staying overnight at a friend’s house. I just woke up, but he’s still asleep, so I’m flipping through the channels on his TV when I see that “Dumbo” is on. It’s near the pink elephants sequence, a scene that I know my friend hates, so when it comes on, I decide to crank up to volume to see if I can get a reaction out of him. Much to my disappointment, he doesn’t respond. About an hour later, he wakes up.)

Friend: “Dude, I had a bunch of weird dreams last night.”

Me: “Um… did any of them have anything to do with the pink elephants scene from Dumbo?”

Friend: “Yeah! That was the main one. How did you know?”

(I work for an emergency mental health crisis line. We get a lot of “wrong numbers” but this one is the funniest.)

Me: “[Company], how can I help you?”

Caller: “I need three large pizzas: one with pepperoni, one cheese, and one sausage.”

(I hear kids screaming in background; the caller also screams at the kids to be quiet.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, you seem to have the wrong number; this is an emergency crisis line.”

Caller: “Oh, I meant to call [Pizza Joint], but can you just put in my order?”

Me: “I’m sorry, but we don’t fill pizza orders.”

Caller: “This is an emergency! The kids are hungry and getting upset! Just put in my order and get it here ASAP!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but I can’t call in a pizza order for you.”

Caller: “Just do it, please, now!” *disconnects call before I can respond*