I am flying back to the USA from Heathrow airport in London. I get to security and there is a woman in front of me with one of those HUGE purses, larger than the backpack I am carrying. There are multiple signs that explain the limitations of what you can bring on board a flight and even a guy going down the line telling us the limits.

We unload our respective bags and shoes into the trays and send them through the x-ray machine. While I am waiting for the lady herself to get scanned, I glance back at the x-ray machine, which has stopped. A cluster of people around the display are all peering intently at it and pointing at the screen.

After I get through the scanner and start getting my stuff, I see that they have pulled the lady aside and had her dump her purse out into a tray. It is loaded with several scores of bottles of perfume, some of which individually look to exceed the total liquid limit, let alone the single bottle limit. As I walk past I can hear the conversation.

Officer: “You cannot bring this much liquid on the plane.”

Lady: “But it’s just perfume.”

Officer: “That doesn’t matter; you still cannot bring it on the plane.”

Lady: “But it’s expensive perfume!”

I get a lot of weird questions working at a school reception, but this one takes the biscuit for me.

Me: “Good morning, [School].”

Caller: “How do I make sure that something goes to the admin office?”

Me: “If you wish to get in touch with our administrators, I can happily provide the central email address.”

Caller: “No! How do I make sure that post goes to the basement office?”

Her tone is getting irate, and I’m worried that something so obvious sounding is going to upset her.

Me: “As long as the post has an addressee on the front, it will be handed to that person.”

Caller: “So, if I address it to [Finance Officer], it will definitely go to her?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am.”

Caller: “How can you be sure?”

Me: “I am the one who sorts the school’s post, ma’am.”

Caller: “So, if it is addressed to [Finance Officer], you will give it to her yourself?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “It will be sent special delivery for tomorrow; make sure you hand it to her!” *Click*

It arrived two days after the call came in.

I am waiting in the queue at a bagel shop in London, famous for traditional bagels, when I overhear this genius customer in front of me.

Customer: “Can I get a bagel, please?”

Server: “What would you like in that?”

Customer: “Umm… bacon.”

Server: “We don’t do bacon here; we’re Jewish.”

Customer: “Oh… er… ham?”

It is a Sunday afternoon when a friend in my A-Level Politics class asks me how many pages long the essay due on Monday is supposed to be. I panic at this point, as I’ve completely forgotten that there even is an essay due.

I get the pertinent details from another classmate and start working on the essay. By late evening, I realise that I’m not going to get it finished in time. However, I will be able to write a little more than the first page. 

I write this, print it, and take the first page to school. In the class, I hand it in to the teacher in a plastic wallet. That evening, I finish up the essay, print the full document, and take that in on Tuesday. Before classes start, my politics teacher finds me and lets me know I only handed in the first page.

Feigning ignorance and concern, I apologise and say I can print it off again and give it to him at break. At break, I go to the Humanities office and hand over the completed document.

And that’s the story of how I managed to give myself a day’s extension on an essay. Thankfully, I had a reputation as a good and conscientious student, which probably gave me the benefit of the doubt in the teacher’s eyes, but I never risked that gambit again!

I am a trainee for a well-known book retailer. It is company policy not to change notes. Three women walk into the store.

Woman #1: “Hi. I like your hair! I work just down the street and was hoping you could change £200 into £10 notes.”

She gets out £200 in fake £20 notes.

Me: “I’m afraid I can’t do that. Besides, we don’t even have £200 in our tills.”

[Woman #1] thumbs through her “money.”

Woman #1: “Okay, what about £100?”

Me: “No.”

Coworker: “I’m afraid we can’t do that at all.”

Woman #1: “Okay.”

The next day, I was informed by my manager that after the women left our store, they drove up to one of our sister stores in the next town and pulled the same trick, but this time they got their money.