Years ago, in the 1970s, I was the manager of a large glass company. I got to the office very early so I could get things done before the phones started ringing. Our field people could call and talk to our superintendent, but I normally did not answer the phones.

I was called to the phone early one morning and found myself talking to a very exasperated woman.

Customer: “I’ve been at my business all night due to a break-in! All of the glass companies I’ve called who offer emergency service can’t help me. None of them have glass large enough to replace my broken window. They told me I’d have to get it from your company when you opened. So, I figured I may as well have you do the job.”

She was able to give me a rough size and, based on that, I quoted a price to do the work.

Me: “We won’t be able to get to you until the afternoon, as all of our mechanics are scheduled for the day. I’ll send someone as soon as they’re available.”

She called me several times during the day to ensure we were still coming.

It happened that the first crew to come in was an older mechanic and his apprentice. I sent them to get a good size so the glass could be cut, and I would send it out with two other men since it would take all four to set the glass due to the large size. The customer had no account, so it was a cash-on-delivery job.

I was just preparing to leave when the older mechanic called.

Mechanic: “The customer is balking at the price she agreed to this morning.”

He put her on the phone.

Customer: “I’ve gotten other quotes that are cheaper. I’ll only pay the amount of the cheapest one.”

When I argued with her she proceeded to tell me:

Customer: “The glass is installed. You’re stuck. Take it or I will pay nothing.”

I asked to speak with my mechanic.

Me: “[Mechanic], are you all cleaned up? And is that old heavy ladder still up?”

Mechanic: “The ladder’s still up.”

Me: “Okay. Get everything picked up and send the other crew back. Once they’re gone, be sure the ladder falls through the new piece of glass.”

He mumbled something, asked me to repeat myself, and then laughed when I did.

Five minutes later, I was called to the phone to speak to a very irate woman. She proceeded to call me every name in the book and berate me and the company for our total incompetence.

Customer: “Who’s going to clean up this mess?! And when will a new piece of glass get here?”

Me: “It won’t. We’re not coming back. You refused to pay the price we agreed to this morning. You could have canceled the job at any time and used the lower-cost company, or you could have asked if we could do it for the cheaper price, but you apparently decided to simply screw our company.”

Before I left, I told our shop that if anyone called for a cut piece of glass that size, they should tell them we couldn’t cut it until the next morning. I found out the next day that a competitor had called within a half hour for the same size glass. I assume the woman had spent another night at her business since it was already late afternoon.

I am waiting on hold for technical support for a cable TV/Internet outage. While I’m on hold, my girlfriend and I start talking about horror movies.

Girlfriend: “Who does the killer actually kill in all of these movies?”

Me: “Usually promiscuous teenage girls and—” *phone picks up* “—horny teenage boys.”

Tech: *Nervously* “Thank you for calling tech support; how may I help you?”

My eyes go wide as soon as I realize what happened, and then I just break out laughing.

Me: “These are the things we talk about when the cable’s out.”

I go to a private Catholic high school; however, there aren’t really any non-religious private schools in the area so a decent amount of the students, myself included, are just there for the education and couldn’t care less about the religious aspects of the school.

Every year during Lent, my school sends out daily Lenten reflections through our email. During my senior year, these emails come up in conversation in one of my classes.

Teacher: “Oh! Did y’all read the Lenten reflection yesterday? I thought it was so good.”

Friend: *Laughing* “No, I just delete those as soon as I see them in my inbox.”

Almost all of my classmates nod their heads in agreement with my friend. The teacher genuinely looks bewildered.

Teacher: “Wha— What? Why not?! They’re always so sweet.”

Half The Class: “I’m not religious.”

(This happens the afternoon after my school’s annual career day. It’s important to note that I am very much NOT straight and my parents are fully aware of this.)

Me: *talking to my dad* “Oh, yeah, we had career day today.”

Dad: *only half paying attention* “Huh? Queer day?”

Me: “No, career day, Dad. You should know that every day is queer day for me.”

(I go to a Catholic all-girls private high school. As I’m FTM trans, I can’t be “publicly” out without risking expulsion and being forcefully outed to my parents. Despite this, most everyone I’m friends with knows and is cool and respectful about it. In my sophomore year, this happens when I decide to tell one of my newer freshman friends about it.)

Me: “So, my name isn’t actually [Deadname] but [Chosen Name], and I mostly use masculine pronouns.”

(I guess at this point she realizes that she’s been unknowingly misgendering me for the past three or so months we’ve known each other and kind of freaks out.)

Friend: “Oh, OH! I’M SO SORRY, ‘HE.’ I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!”

Me: “Sweetheart, that’s not how pronouns work.”

(Thankfully, she’s learned how to use grammar far more effectively since then!)