Coworker #1: *reading an article about American Football player Rob Gronkowski* “‘It’s looking like a very Merry Gronkmas. New England Patriots tight end debuted a new ugly sweater that features a photo of him spiking a Christmas present.’ Apparently there’s a contest where you can win a dinner with him and a surprise guest, plus a bunch of signed memorabilia.”

Coworker #2: “I don’t care about the memorabilia; I’d just take the dinner with him. He’s hot.”

(The conversation continues about Gronkowski and football. A few minutes later…)

Me: “Wait… is ‘tight end’ a football term?”

(Everyone laughs.)

Coworker #1: “Yes, it’s a hybrid position, like a wide receiver.”

Me: “Oh, I was thinking they were talking about Gronk’s ‘tight end.’”

Coworker #2: “Well, that’s a good description, too.”

(My fiancé and I are eating Mexican takeout at home. He holds out his hand, and I take it.)

Fiancé: “No, I wanted chips, not your hand.”

(I’m sitting with my dad and my little sister in the living room, chatting.)

Sister: “So, there’s this dog, and it’s got no eyes.”

Dad: “Is it blind?”

(I work at an endodontist office. Each new patient has to complete paperwork, including a “go-to” card that lists pertinent information, such as current medications and known allergies. Patients who we have not seen for six or more months have to complete a new card so we are up-to-date. A patient comes in, completes the paperwork, and is taken into her appointment. A few minutes later, the hygienist comes flying out.)

Hygienist: “Can I see her card?”

Me: “Here you go.”

(The patient comes out as well, clearly upset.)

Hygienist: “Ma’am, you didn’t notify us that you were allergic to latex.”

Patient: “Why would I? I didn’t see how it was relevant!”

Me: “You should have listed it on the card when you filled it out. See here? We have a place for allergies.”

(I point to the section, which she has left blank.)

Patient: “I thought that was for medication allergies. How was I supposed to know that you were going to have latex gloves?!”

Hygienist: “Ma’am, this is a dentist’s office.”

Patient: “So?”

(Our deli has struggled for months with an increasingly bad staffing issue. We are just about to get a new assistant manager. The scheduling on this particular day, a Sunday, is so awful, that our last coworker, an elderly lady, is forced to stay by herself and take care of all the cleaning while still dealing with customers, since we’re not allowed to stay late, and everyone else leaves too early for any major cleaning to be done. As I’m just about leaving, the deli’s phone rings.)

Me: “[Deli], how can I help you?”

Manager: “Hi, can you cook a pizza for [Manager #2]?”

Me: “I’m so sorry, but I’m about to leave making, [Coworker] the only one back here, and she’s busy with customers and all the cleaning, too. I really don’t think she’ll have time.”

Manager: “But it’s for [Manager #2]. Can you just write that down?”

Me: “Uh… sure.”

(I put the phone down and relay the request to my coworker, who just confirms that there’s no way she’ll have time to cook and prepare a pizza. As I’m walking to the time clock, I see the manager that requested the pizza. Since she isn’t the one who called for the pizza, I decide to tell her my coworker will be unable to cook the pizza.)

Manager #2: “What? I don’t understand! Why can’t she just cook a pizza? I’m the customer, here. All she has to do is cook it; why is that so hard?”

(Suddenly, the our new assistant manager turns the corner.)

Assistant Manager: “Maybe because they only scheduled THREE people in the deli, all day, ON A D*** SUNDAY!”

(With that, [Manager #2] quieted right down. Suddenly, I had faith that maybe, with a new understanding leader, things might be okay.)