(After walking back and forth along the mall length thrice, Mom and I decide to grab dinner at the food court. We go to a restaurant known for its chicken. She gets a chicken salad sandwich and I get the restaurant’s deluxe sandwich with colby jack cheese. I take a bite and immediately notice something’s wrong when I taste something spicy.)

Me: *opening the sandwich* “What the heck? I said colby jack not pepper jack!” *to Mom* “Be right back. Let me swap this real quick.”

(I go up to the counter with the sandwich and the receipt that says next to my order “CJ,” meaning colby jack, proving that’s what I initially ordered. I end up with a different cashier than the one who took my order, as she was free first.)

Cashier: “Can I help you?”

Me: “Yes.” *shows her the sandwich and receipt* “I ordered this with colby jack cheese but got pepper jack instead. Could I please exchange this for a new one?”

Cashier: “Oh, absolutely! I’m sorry for the mix up! That was the [Restaurant] deluxe, right?”

Me: “Correct.”

(I try to hand her the incorrect sandwich, but she refuses to take it.)

Cashier: “Oh, no! Go ahead and keep it! It was our mistake.”

Me: “Okay, then. Thank you.”

(Since they’d probably just throw them away anyway, I see no harm in keeping it. My second sandwich comes out, and I decide to check it on the spot just to be safe. Surprisingly, it also has pepper jack cheese.)

Me: “Um, are you guys out of colby jack by some sheer chance? This is also pepper jack.”

Cashier: “Um, I think that’s colby jack.”

(At this point I’m confused and wonder if I was initially mistaken, but I notice a sandwich on the menu board advertised as having pepper jack and the cheese on it looks exactly like the one on both my sandwiches. I point this out to the cashier.)

Cashier: “Um, let me just double check.”

(She takes the second one and goes to the kitchen window. I can’t hear the exchange, but she returns looking a bit flustered.)

Cashier: “I’m so sorry! We’ll have the right one out for you as quickly as possible! I’m sorry for the wait!”

Me: “It’s okay. I’m not starving. I can wait. Just tell them to give me American if they’re out of colby jack.”

(She moves over to another register to continue helping customers while I wait at the counter she was at. She turns to apologize every so often. Being an avid reader of Not Always Right, I jump to a conclusion.)

Me: “How long have you worked here?”

Cashier: “A couple months.”

Me: “Ah, I figured if you’ve worked here long enough you’ve met some customers that’d flip at this situation. Don’t worry, I make it a point to not be one of those customers.”

(She chuckles a little at this, and did seem to be more at ease. My sandwich arrives, and this time it has the right cheese. I thank the cashier and attempt to hand her the second pepper jack sandwich, but she lets me keep it, too. Once I return to the table…)

Mom: “There you are! I was wondering where you were. You were gone for so long I thought someone had stolen you!”

Me: “Nah, it just took them three tries to get the right kind of cheese on it. At least they let me keep the other two. Admittedly, I was tempted to demand a free milkshake or something after the second slip-up…”

Mom: “But you’re not that mean?”

Me: “Nope. Well, I try not to be, anyway.”

(I am a 26-year-old man walking through a mall. A mother pushing a stroller containing her daughter (who looks about two) is walking the other direction, about to pass by me. The little girl appears to be in a bad mood and is glaring angrily and struggling against the stroller. The mother looks exasperated.)

Girl: “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

(I immediately turn to the girl and scream.)

Me: “Bleeeeeeeeeh! How do you like it?”

Girl: *confused stare*

Mother: *laughing*

(My boyfriend and I have had an exhausting day and are deciding on where to eat. We end up in front of a map of the mall and are perusing our choices. We are both also college students and are on a tight budget.)

Boyfriend: “There’s, like, [very expensive place only meant for special occasions], but…

Me: “You wouldn’t take me to [same place]?”

Boyfriend: “Babe, that’s like $50.”

Me: “You mean I’m not worth $50 to you?”

Boyfriend: “Of course you’re worth $50.”

Me: “I’m only worth $50?”

Boyfriend: *at this point is very flustered and keeps digging himself into a deeper hole* “No! You’re not worth anything!” *immediately realizes what he just said and assumes a look of horror while I’m cracking up*

(My friend and I walk about in the mall just looking for something to eat. She takes my hand and runs to where they are selling pretzels. We begin to get some side glances from the people around us. I am gender-fluid, but look particularly feminine today, as we don’t live in a very accepting place.)

Me: “Hey, [Friend], do you notice that people are looking at us?”

Friend: “It’s because we’re holding hands.”

Me: “Oh.”

Friend: “Yeah, and I swear, if we get any comments on it, I’m kissing you.”

Me: *desperately hoping that someone makes a comment about it because my friend is a goddess* “Oh…”

(We didn’t get any comments, but when an elderly couple kept staring at us and gave us a sneer, she gave me a peck on the cheek!)

(I am three years old and at the mall with my mom. At one point we both have to go to use the restroom. I am a boy but due to my age my mother takes me into the women’s room with her.)

Me: “We’re in the wrong room.”

Mom: “You’re not old enough to go by yourself so you have to use the same restroom as me.”

Me: “You’re in the wrong room, too.”

Mom: “No, we’re in the right restroom.”

Me: “You’re wearing pants but this is the skirt room.”

(My mom laughed and explained that the signs on the doors meant “men” and “women” and not “pants” and “skirts” like I thought. We still laugh about it to this day.)