I work in an office setting. Our department is in a small room with another small room off of that. My manager is in the secondary small room, but even with the door open, it can be difficult to hear one another without raising our voices. I have a quiet voice, so I usually have to repeat myself a few times in increasing volume before she hears me.

My manager is going through hundreds of emails that have accumulated since she went on vacation. Part of our jobs includes death certificates and burial certificates.

Me: “I don’t know if you came across this email yet, but there was a webinar happening today at noon that was discussing how to better communicate with the deaf. I wanted to sign up for it, but now I think it was just for Justices of the Peace and other people performing marriages.”

Manager: “A webinar for the what?”

Me: “The deaf.”

Manager: “The death?”

Me: “Deaf. D-E-A-F.”

Manager: “The dead?”

Me: “No, deaf. Like, hard of hearing. Deaf.”

Manager: *Coming out of her office* “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

Me: *Laughing* “That makes this even better!”

Manager: “Why? What were you saying?”

Me: “It’s a webinar for the deaf!”

Manager: “OH, MY GOD!”

Me: “It’s so I can better communicate with you!”

Manager: “Please, by all means, sign up!”

I did sign up, and it was very useful.

An old man is in the post office ahead of me in line.

Old Guy: “When is postage supposed to go up?”

Clerk: “There will be notices posted right before that happens.”

Old Guy: “Okay.” *Leaves*

Me: *Thinking* “Geez, why doesn’t he just use email like everyone else?”

Now, it’s my turn.

Me: “I need a form to track a lost package.”

Clerk: “We don’t have forms here. You have to go to our website and download one.”

Years ago, I was flying to Florida. As I was walking through the airport in Boston, I saw a family walking single file, each one with their own rolling carry-on bag. The last one was a boy, apparently six or seven years old, and plainly feeling very grown-up.

It turned out they were on my flight. They were a couple of rows ahead of me, and both the boy and I were on the aisle. As soon as the seatbelt light was turned off, he opened his bag. It was full of action figures — you have to bring the essentials.

He was also a very social little guy, so everyone within a couple of rows had met him by the end, so I very easily heard him as we were landing at Miami. He looked out the window, sighed, and said, “Oh, well, back where we started.”

It’s flat, it’s got planes… close enough.

A number of years ago, my husband and I took our beloved cat to the vet for hot spots that had been causing her a great deal of grief. The vet advertised himself as holistic, which we saw as an advantage at the time.

Once we were in the examination room, he asked:

Vet: “Can one of you place one hand on [Cat]’s back while extending the other arm out straight?”

He then proceeded to hold up vials of unknown contents near our lovely cat’s body. With each one, he pushed on the outstretched arm, using his perceived resistance as an indicator of our poor cat’s sensitivity to its contents.

Sadly, my former husband wasn’t up to the task. He excused himself and went outside to stand by our car. From my vantage point near the window, I could still see him, bent double, laughing until he cried, while I was trapped inside, forced to freeze my face while the vet tested vial after vial.

The result? A $375 bill and a diagnosis of “sensitivity to strange smells,” which, if I’m not mistaken, covers all cats, ever.

It’s around 2016. The newspapers have been reporting on scammers calling people at home and on their mobile phones, allegedly to raise money for various Police Support Funds. There are also legitimate fundraisers for police officers, too, but it’s difficult to tell them apart, although generally speaking, the legitimate ones at this point in time either call your home phone or send you something in the mail.

One day, I’m sitting in my car waiting for my wife to come out of her office when my mobile phone rings. I answer it because I am expecting a call and don’t know what number will show on my display. The caller is a man who sounds roughly middle-aged with not a hint of a foreign accent.

Caller: “Hello, my name is [Caller], and I’m calling from [generic sounding name for Police Fund] raising money to support our local Police Officers who have been wounded on the job. Would you like to donate $100 today? The donation will appear on your next cell phone statement.”

That makes me feel somewhat suspicious.

Me: “I’m not interested in doing so right now. Could you send me something in the mail that has more details on your charity?”

Caller: “I understand; $100 is a bit too much for some people. How I about I put you down for $50 for now?”

Me: “No, I’m not comfortable doing transactions like this based on a cold call to my mobile phone.”

Caller: “Well, how about I start you off with just a $25 donation?”

Me: “Look, I apologize if you are a legitimate charity, but I have no idea who you are, nor any way to confirm it. I did not give you permission to use my mobile phone number to call me to raise money or for any other purpose. I’d be happy to give something once I confirm who you are and that the charity you represent is legitimate, but I’m not doing that with someone who cold-calls my mobile number without my permission. Again, if you want to mail me something that I can read and check out, I will consider a donation.”

Caller: “I understand your hesitancy, and I appreciate your concern. How about just a modest ten-dollar donation to get us started, then?”

Me: “No, thank you. You don’t appear to be listening to anything I’m saying here. Please take my number off your list. Goodbye.”

I hung up. Afterward, I looked up the name of the charity he said was representing and I could not find anything by that name at all.

Yeah, this is why I don’t respond to cold-callers of any type, especially when they call my mobile phone number without my express permission. If I don’t know who you are, you aren’t getting any money from me!