(I work at a grocery store that offers customers 50 free fuel points in exchange for a survey.  Whenever a customer completes a survey, they get 50 fuel points added onto their rewards card. The survey also comes with a comments section, which associates can read off a paper in the back room. This is one of them.)

Comment: “I WASN’T SURE HOW TO TELL THE BAGGER I WANTED MY MILK IN A BAG WHEN THEY ASKED BECAUSE I DID NOT WANT MY MILK TO LEAK. SURE ENOUGH, AS SOON AS I GOT HOME, MY MILK HAD LEAKED.

(A simple “yes” would suffice when baggers ask if the customer wants their milk in a bag…)

Boss: “So, [My Name], what do you do for fun?”

Me: “You don’t pay me enough to afford ‘fun’.”

(My family is visiting some close friends. I am about twelve, and the friends’ daughters are eight and ten. We are sitting around the table enjoying dinner. My dad thinks he’s hilarious. He looks over at their youngest daughter’s plate.)

Dad: “Oh, you know that’s monkey meat right?”

(My friends’ parents start frantically waving their hands in the “No” and “Stop” fashion.)

Dad: “Oh… I’m just kidding; that’s really just cow meat.”

(My friends parents wave more frantically.)

Friend’s Dad: “[Dad], stop… right now meat comes from the store.”

(My family has a magnet on the dishwasher that says clean when turned one way and dirty when turned the other. One day, I go to get a snack and find no clean plates. The dishwasher magnet is turned to clean, though, so I pull a plate out of the dishwasher and use that. When I’m done eating, I start unloading the dishwasher. My sister walks in and looks at what I’m doing in confusion.)

Sister: “Why are you unloading the dishwasher?”

Me: “Because that’s what you do with clean dishes.”

Sister: “But they’re not… Oh. Oops!”

Me: *stopping unloading* “Oops?”

Sister: *looking guilty* “I may have forgotten to turn the magnet around.”

Me: *thinking that at least the plate was rinsed* “All right. Help me get the dirty dishes back in the dishwasher.”

Sister: *still looking guilty*

Me: “[Sister]. What is it?”

Sister: “[Dog] may have licked off some of the dishes.”

Me: “Ew! He licks his own butt! I ate off one of those plates.”

Sister: *still looking guilty*

Me: “There’s more?”

Sister: “When I took him for a walk earlier… I swear I stopped him as soon as I could, but…”

Me: “What did he eat?”

Sister: “Some other dog’s poop.”

Me: *leaving the dishes* “Okay, this is now officially your mess to clean up. Excuse me while I go throw up.”

(I wish I could say she was more careful with the magnet after that, but she was not. At least I learned to always check if the dishes are actually clean.)

Me: “Guess what I did last night!”

Coworker: “Partaaaay?”

Me: “What? Me? On a Friday night? Partying?”

Coworker: “No partaaay?”

Me: “No, I learned how to play the banjo.”