(My family is on vacation, visiting Washington DC. We go to the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum and they have flight simulators that you can pay to ride in. It’s basically like a big video game, where you climb into the machine, buckle in, and then use the joystick to pilot the plane. It can spin and flip. Being kids, naturally, my sister wants me to go nuts and I oblige, flipping and spinning the ride almost nonstop. It’s a blast. After we get out, my mom takes me by the shoulders and looks me square in the eyes.)

Mom: “Please never get a pilot’s license.”

(I have been working as a volunteer in a museum. A lady walks in with her — actually quite large — dog.)

Visitor: “Hi! I’d like to visit the exhibit!”

Me: “Welcome! Sure, that will be 5€.”

(As I give her the usual information — like where the toilets and wardrobes are and where the exhibit is and everything like this — I also tell her that her dog has to wait outside, as we are a small museum but cannot allow a large dog to freely walk around valuable things AND children in the exhibit.)

Visitor: “What? Why? I don’t want to let my dog wait outside!”

Me: “Sorry, but it goes against regulation. Also, the weather is fine and we have enough room outs—”

Visitor: “No! I don’t understand. I was in [Other Museum] and they let my dog in!”

Me: “That can be possible, but we have regulations and I cannot allow it.”

Visitor: “This is ridiculous!”

(Before I can say another word, she leaves. My coworker was beside me the whole time and searches online for the other museum’s house rules, where dogs are clearly not allowed in the exhibit. We laugh at the situation.)

Coworker: “I don’t think she went to [Other Museum] recently; no exhibit there lets dogs in.”

Me: “I mean, what would a dog even want to see in a room full of old stuff?”

(I work at an art museum with multiple floors as a gallery attendant. Usually, there are two attendants to every floor, and we rotate through the floors on the top of the hour, and we aren’t always with the same person we started the day with. It’s late November. I’ve requested off for Christmas Eve, as my parents are divorced; I only get to see my father’s family Christmas Eve. I put in my request mid-October and was told by the director of my department that it was approved and I was good to go. Schedules are done a month in advance, hence why I put it in super early by normal bi-weekly scheduling standards. I’m with a semi-new coworker who has been here a month. I don’t particularly like him; he acts as if he’s worked for the museum for a decade, and feels his art background and experience in another museum makes him better than the rest of us who have worked at the current museum for a year or more. The schedule for December was released a few days ago.)

Coworker: “What are you doing on Christmas Eve?”

Me: *already knowing where this is going* “I’m going to my dad’s to see his family and celebrate; otherwise, I don’t get to see them.”

Coworker: “Oh, well, I didn’t get off. I have to work that day, even though I put my request in a week ago. I’ve been here long enough that my request should’ve been handed by [Boss’s Boss who has nothing to do with our department, let alone scheduling].”

Me: “That’s not the way the schedule is done. [Boss] sent us emails last month reminding us to get them in sooner rather than later, since they can’t let everyone have the day off.”

Coworker: “I haven’t seen my whole family in five years and this is the only time we’re going to get together at all during the holidays, so you should work for me on Christmas Eve. I’ll pick up one of your shifts later so it works out.”

(My head whipped around so fast, I almost got whiplash.)

Me: “I’m sorry that you haven’t seen your family, but I’m not going to trade with you. You waited until the last minute to get your request in, despite the reminders from [Boss]. This is the only time of year I get to see my dad’s family and I’m not going to miss it because of your poor planning.”

Coworker: “I’ll go to [Boss’s Boss] if you don’t take it.”

Me: “Go right ahead. He has nothing to do with our scheduling and no power to change it after it’s been out.”

(He gets up to walk to a different part of the floor.)

Coworker: “Don’t expect me to ever pick up any of your shifts, you b****.”

(The rest of the hour, he avoided me. When we rotated, I was by myself. I texted a mutual coworker about the situation. She told me that a few days before the schedule came out, he told her he’d had a great Thanksgiving with his whole family, whom he hadn’t seen in five years. Imagine my shock when I found out everyone available said no to taking his shift for Christmas Eve. Maybe if he hadn’t lied, and actually asked instead of commanding, I might’ve thought about it. But buddy, your family doesn’t take precedence over mine, your poor planning, and your audacious attitude.)

(My parents are visiting the nation’s capitol and I live nearby, so I meet up with them to tour the Smithsonian Museum of American History. At one of the exhibits is a statue of a colonial period woman holding her arm bent upwards with her palm facing towards her and her index finger pointing upwards. My dad and I are near this exhibit, as are a couple of girls who look to be around 14 or 15.)

Me: *jokingly to my dad* “Oh look, back then they used to flip each other off with this finger.”

Teenage Girl: *seriously* “Wow, really?”

Me: “No, that’s a joke.”

Teenage Girl: “Oh.”

Dad & Me: *silently cracking up as we walk away*

(I am working at the ticketing desk of a local museum where some of our major exhibits are diorama halls of taxidermied animals. A woman and her son who looks to be about three or four come up to my desk.)

Son: “We’re going to the museum!”

Mother: *angrily* “Yeah, we were going to go to the zoo, but somebody only wants to see dead animals!”