(It’s a weekend. My father is sleeping in. My mother is cleaning stuff off of the kitchen counter while I find myself some breakfast. My father’s phone trills with a text message. His text tone is fairly loud and obnoxious.)

Mother: “Ugh, not again.”

Me: “What?”

Mother: “Your father uses the setting where the phone rings every five minutes until you answer the text. It’s driving me crazy. I can’t wait until he gets up so he can answer it.”

Me: *wordlessly picks up the phone and turns it on silent*

Mother: “Oh… that works.”

(Glad my childhood computer classes, ownership of the same type of phone, and ability to use my brain came in handy.)

(I am working as a call center representative for an appliance service plan, in which members of the program can call in to have someone come out to repair their appliances while only paying a monthly fee. We work with a select group of vendors whom we contract the work out to and cover their costs for the visit.)

Customer: “I want to cancel the service call I have today for my central AC, if it is not too late.”

Me: “Certainly, give me a moment.”

(The customer has an appointment for later today, which I cancel with the customer’s reason.)

Me: “Okay, that order has been cancelled. Anything else I can help you with today?”

Customer: “Yes, how much do you pay your people to come out here?”

Me: *pause* “I’m not entirely certain, sir. It varies depending on the company we send and the work that is done. I’d guess that the cost of the visitation would be anywhere from $100 to $150 before costs for parts and labor.”

Customer: “So, that means I saved you the cost of them being sent out, right?”

Me: “Uh, yes, sir, that’s right.”

(Awkward pause.)

Customer: “I guess what I’m saying is, can I get credit to my account for that?”

Me: “No, I’m sorry, sir, we don’t offer credits for cancelling your service orders.”

Customer: “But I’m saving you some money, so shouldn’t I get something?”

Me: “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t really offer anything like that; the cost of operations is just something we cover whether it happens or not.”

Customer: “Well, it was worth a try, I guess.”

(Sometimes I wonder if customers really think about these requests from a business standpoint. If we gave money out to everyone who cancelled an appointment, we wouldn’t be around for very long.)

I’m the only girl in my family and have three younger brothers. I spent most of my second year of life begging for a sister, and was very unhappy when my first brother was born. When I was seven years old, my mom got pregnant again and I was really hoping she’d have a baby girl.

I didn’t know the gender of the baby until my dad and grandfather brought me and my five-year-old first brother to the hospital to see Mom and the new baby. My brother was bored by the whole affair, but I was curious because I really wanted a sister.

But alas, my parents introduced me to my second brother. According to my parents and grandfather, I took one look at the new baby, looked a mix of disgusted and disappointed, and asked, “Another boy?”

My grandfather nearly had to leave the room, he was laughing so hard. I never did get my requested sister. Thankfully, I didn’t do this when my third brother was born two years later!

(I am sitting at my desk, coloring the picture that’s on the next day’s schedule that we will post, so the residents have something cheerful to look at. We can’t print in color so I always do this. A visitor, who is a hospice nurse, comes in and see what I’m doing. I’m a cis female and the nurse is male. I happen to be coloring a picture of an ice cream cone in rainbow colors.)

Visitor: “Why are you doing that?”

Me: “Coloring? I like to post a colored version of the schedule so the residents have–”

Visitor: “No. Why are you using those colors? It’s…” *whispers* “…gay.”

Me: “Yes, rainbow colors are generally used for Pride. June is Pride month, you know. Personally, I happen to be bi.” *cocks head and looks at him, just mentally willing him to say something*

Visitor: *eyes go wide* “You’re…YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!” *runs toward the door with his arm out to push it open, but alas, it is locked and he crashes into it*

Me: “Oh, sorry, let me get that for you.” *sickly sweet smile*

Visitor: *incoherent screaming as he runs outside*

(I have no patience for this kind of bulls***. And since this lovely gentleman was wearing scrubs with his company’s name and his name, I was able to tell them exactly what their employee did. They sent someone else over to cover his patients.)

(I have rather odd taste in music. I’m packing dinner kits at church with a group of friends and we’re discussing music as we put together the kits. Most of us favor pop or country music.)

Me: “I’ve been really into [Band] lately.”

Friend #1: “Cool, what genre are they?”

Me: “Christian Canadian punk rock.”

Friend #1: “What?”

Me: “Christian Canadian punk rock.”

Friend #2: “Those words do not go together!”