Automated Prompt: “…to report a sick animal, a lost animal, or any other animal emergency, press 0 for dispatch.”

(Thinking this will connect me to an animal control unit, I press 0.)

Sheriff’s Dispatcher: “[County] Sheriff Non-Emergency Dispatch. How can I help you?”

Me: “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get in contact with [County] Animal Services.”

Sheriff’s Dispatcher: “Yeah, we handle animal issues on weekends.”

Me: “Okay, well, I have a dog that was found by a couple of people here. I’m trying to find a safe place for him right now so the owner can retrieve him. Do you have anyone I can contact for that?”

Sheriff’s Dispatcher: “Well, if you can contain the animal safely, hold on to him until Animal Services opens on Monday, and then contact them to pick him up.”

Me: “I see. I apologize, but I’m a bit annoyed at the fact that we have a dedicated Animal Control, and yet it falls to the police to do their job on weekends.”

Sheriff’s Dispatcher: “Totally understandable, sir.”

(After that, I contacted a relative who had a dog crate to take him; we’ve taken him in for the time being. According to the website, the Animal Services’ office isn’t open until 12 pm Monday. Good to know my tax dollars are being used wisely. At least he’s cute.)

I failed my first psychology course and was determined not to let it happen again. My professor in the next course was very conceited, and annoyingly so. He bragged about being a veteran, and said that his last name translated to “war” in another language, so naturally he was one of the best soldiers. He bragged about his doctorate degree and how smart he was, and said that we had better pay attention and learn from him and his accomplishments. He bragged about how tough his courses were and the fact that many of us would fail. Basically, he was an a**hole all around.

I attended every class, I paid attention, I took notes, I did all the homework, and I studied for the tests. There would be three tests throughout the semester making up most of the grade. He handed out blue books, gave us five questions, and told us to answer any three questions, as long as the answers were in paragraph form and at least three pages each. I tend to write small and close together, so I filled in as much as I could in my normal writing with as much information as I could remember on the subject, but I couldn’t fill all of the pages. My first test came back as a 67%. This was not good if I wanted to pass the class with a decent grade.

While taking my second test, I saw the professor grading another class’s test books. He would open the book, flip, flip, flip, flip, flip, flip, flip, flip, flip, close the book, and write a grade on it. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds per test. After writing as much information as I could about the questions in bigger, spaced-out writing, I still fell short on my page requirements. I finished my pages talking about how I was noticing him grade tests, and how I was going to fill in the space with words that didn’t have anything to do with the subject material just to see if he noticed. When I got my second test back, it was 100%. Success!

For the third and final test, I wrote as much information as I could in big, spaced-out writing, then finished my pages with the lyrics to the “Hokey Pokey” and “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” with some psychology terms sprinkled in. “You put your cerebral cortex in, you take your frontal lobe out, you put your parietal lobe in, and you shake it all about…” My grade? 100%

And that’s the story on how I aced a class by writing song lyrics on the tests. I like to call it a psychology experiment.

Unrelated, but six years later, I learned that my coworker also had him as a professor, hated him equally as a professor, but later married his son and said he was a fantastic father-in-law.

(I am a receptionist at a radiology clinic.)

Me: “Okay. What is your date of birth?”

Patient: “I’ve been here before.”

(A stare-off ensued while I attempted to read their mind.)

(I work at a store in my hometown. It’s the Sunday after Thanksgiving and my mother, sister, and I have gone shopping in a larger town with a larger location than ours. We walk around looking for Christmas gifts and then get to the checkout area.)

Mom: “OH MY.”

(There is still a long line, stretching back several aisles from the registers.)

Mom: “I’m not waiting in that line.”

(She sets the item she was going to purchase down on a display.)

Me: “You know, you could give that to an employee instead of leaving it sitting there. We have buckets at our registers for that.”

(Mom picks her item back up and asks one of the employees directing traffic if she can take the item.)

Employee: *cheerfully* “I’d be happy to take it for you!”

(My least favorite thing is picking up stray items that are left in areas they don’t belong. Bring it to the register with you and we’ll take it. Or flag down an employee on the floor and ask if we can put it back instead of leaving it for us to find later.)

(I work at a small ice cream parlor inside of a supermarket. We have two different flavors each day, and I have a twenty-inch sign right in front of me saying what two flavors we are selling on the given day.)

Sign: “Today: CHOCOLATE & BANANA.”

Customer: “Strawberry.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “I want strawberry. Do you have it?”

Me: “Madam, the fruit section is–” *gives directions to the produce section*

Customer: “I want ice cream.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Which one would you like? Today we have chocolate and banana flavor.”

Customer: “Strawberry.”

Me: *starting to understand what she wanted earlier* “I’m sorry, we don’t have that flavor today. Would you like the chocolate or the banana one?”

Customer: “Ugh. But you don’t have strawberry.”

Me: “No, I’m sorry. I think we are going to have it again on [day].”

Customer: “But I want my ice cream.”

Me: “Okay… Well.. Would you like to try the banana one or the chocolate one?”

Customer: “Whatever.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “Just whatever. Give me some ice cream.”

Me: “Umm… You have to choose, ma’am.”

Customer: “I don’t care.”

Me: “So… I guess I can recommend the banana one?”

Customer: “Then give me the banana one.”

Me: “Okay, and would you like big or small?”

Customer: “Banana.”

Me: “Yes, yes, but what size? Big or small?”

Customer: “Just give me a bit.”

Me: *screaming inside*