(I’m volunteering for a local race, packing up and handing out runner kits at a local community center. There’s a sign on the front desk with a bright red arrow pointing to the gym for kit pick-up. I’m hanging another sign nearby when a runner comes in, and walks right up to the front desk.)

Runner: “Where do I pick up my race kit?”

Front Desk: “Just to the right in the gym. There will be a sign right out front.”

Runner: *walks off in that general direction, having still not noticed either of the five-foot signs*

Me: “I thought the signs were big enough to be noticed, but I guess not.”

Front Desk: “He’s the third one today.”

Me: “Hello, thanks for calling [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Customer: “My husband died, and I need to get the name changed to my account so I can pay his bills.”

Me: “Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am. Would you like me to send the bills to his estate?”

Customer: *after a pause* “He don’t got an estate.”

Me: “Ma’am, in this instance, estate means whatever property and money the deceased had, usually controlled by his will’s executor, or lawyer.”

Customer: *after a long pause* “He don’t got an estate.”

Me: *pause* “I’ll just change it to your name, shall I?”

(I’m driving with my mother when someone cuts me off in traffic.)

Me: “Stupid a**hole!”

Mum: “[My Name], don’t swear! I raised you better than that!”

(Later on, she is telling me about driving with a friend of the family. Said friend is close to me in age and happens to be male.)

Mum: “So, someone cut [Friend] off, and he called the other driver a ‘dumb f****** dips***.’ Ha ha! He was mortified that he’d sworn in front of me, but I told him that I just thought it was funny.”

Me: “How come when I do it, it’s terrible, but when [Friend] does it, it’s funny?”

Mum: *pause* “Well, I’m not [Friend]’s mother, so it’s different.”

Me: “Would it still be ‘different’ if [Friend] was female?”

Mum: “Of course not! Women shouldn’t swear!”

Me: “Uh-huh...”

(My sixteen-year-old daughter is taking drivers’ education at her school. The first part takes place in the classroom, followed by practical experience driving a car. Parents are allowed to attend the classroom part if they wish.)

Instructor: “Now, the law for drinking and driving for new drivers is very strict. It’s a zero-tolerance policy.”

(The mother of one of the kids raises her hand.)

Mother: “What does that mean?”

Instructor: “That means that your kids won’t be allowed to have any alcohol if they’re going to be driving within a certain timeframe.”

Mother: “I don’t get it.”

Instructor: “It’s actually very simple. If your kid will be driving within [number of hours], they can’t have any alcohol.”

Mother: “None?“

Instructor: “None.”

Mother: “But let’s say that my son is at a party, and he’s going to be there for an hour; it’s okay if he has just one beer, right?”

Instructor: *stares at her* “No.”

Mother: “No? But it’s just one beer!”

Instructor: *starting to lose patience* “No alcohol. Period.”

Mother: “But—”

Instructor: “NO. ALCOHOL.”

Mother: “…”

(Her son looked mortified.)

We have a system at our franchise where everyone who calls in or orders online gets a call-back before we make their pizzas. No exceptions. Even phone orders.

A timed order comes in to be picked up at four pm. No problem. Then, a few moments later, it is voided: “Did not answer, could not confirm. Do not make.”

The boss recognises the lady — she’s a regular — so on the off chance this was just a mistake, we make the pizzas but put them in the cooler, ready to go in.

Four pm rolls around, and she’s not there. Four fifteen, not there. We are about to use the pizzas for other orders when she comes in at about 4:25. When we explain we don’t have the pizzas in because of lack of confirmation, she gets upset — not at us, mind you, but at the situation. She has a birthday party! She’s in a hurry!

I explain that pizzas were made, and we can have her order ready in seven minutes. After a few moments of reassurance, she departs, to return in “exactly seven minutes.”

The pizzas come out — we bumped them ahead of a few others — we cut them, box them up, and put them on the heater as fast as we can. By now it is about 4:35.

And we wait… and wait… Finally, at around five, she strolls in, just as I am about to mark the pizzas for “immediate sale.”

So much for being in a hurry.