I’m on a first date with a woman. I met her in our dogwalker’s club, and our dogs are friends. We’ve decided to visit a restaurant together.

When we get there, the first thing she asks the waiter is:

Woman: “What’s the most expensive thing on the menu?”

And she proceeds to order exactly that.

Me: “Do you expect me to pay for that?”

Woman: “Yes.”

Me: “No.”

I stood up and simply left.

Our dogs are no longer allowed to be friends.

This happened in 2017 when I was an apprentice electrician in New York City. As anyone in construction can tell you, the apprentice is the one sent out to get the coffee for everyone on the job, and as I was one of only two on the job site and was fresh in the business, I was the one who was picked to get it most of the time. Every day, when the work day started, I would go to each of the other workers, get their order (if any), and then later pick it up for break, bringing it down to where we were all working to eat together. Or, in the case of the foreman and sub-foreman, I’d leave it in the shanty upstairs if he was going to be up there.

The foreman overall wasn’t a bad guy, but he tended to run a bit hot and cold. Most days he was nice, friendly, understanding, chatty, and overall a good guy. Some days, however, the stress would get to him and he’d get a bit angry and snappy. And of course, I wouldn’t know this until my first interaction of the day when I asked for his coffee order. On those days, he’d generally respond with something along the lines of…

Foreman: “What is it with you and coffee? Why are you asking me about coffee? I don’t want to hear about coffee! Go away! Go away!”

It didn’t happen too often, but it got annoying being yelled at for doing my job. Usually, I’d get his coffee order later, but one day it took me asking him three times before this exchange happened.

Foreman: “Why are you asking me about coffee?! Stop asking me about it! [Coworker], what is the one thing I say I never want to hear about?”

Coworker: “…dust masks?”

Foreman: “Dust masks and coffee! I never want to hear anything about them again! Go away!”

So, I shrugged, said okay, and walked off. I didn’t talk to him again about it that day.

Fast forward a few days to Monday. I was sitting downstairs with the other workers at break as we ate our sandwiches and drank coffee. The foreman and sub-foreman showed up.

Foreman: “Hey, [My Name].”

Me: “Hey, [Foreman].”

Foreman: “So, ah, I take it my coffee is upstairs in the shanty?”

I pointed at the sub-foreman.

Me: “His is.”

Foreman: “Well, where’s mine?”

Me: *Smugly* “What is the one thing you told me you never wanted to hear about ever again?”

There was a long pause.

Foreman: “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Me: “I just did.”

Another pause.

Foreman: “Go get the [several pieces of very heavy pipe that take two people to lift] and move it from [Sub-floor 8] to [Sub-floor 2].”

And then he walked away. He probably thought he was punishing me since it was nothing but stairs to get up those floors, but I just laughed as the other apprentice had already asked me to help him do that anyway. 

I left that job site a month or two later, but the foreman never snapped at me about coffee again, and he always calmly gave me his order.

I work at a futon shop. I am helping a woman who doesn’t know the size of her bed and therefore the size of the fitted sheet she needs. I try every way of trying to help her determine or remember, but she keeps answering:

Customer: “It’s just a bed! A regular bed!”

I even resort to explaining the concept of size, in desperation, using clothing size as an example.

Nope, she seems to be listening, I think we might be getting somewhere, and then, nope! She’s right back at “a regular bed!”

Finally, my manager butts in to say, very politely, calmly, and kindly:

Manager: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t help you. I’m sorry, but we can’t sell you anything.”

He had to say it several times, but eventually, she gave up and left. Bizarre. She was educated and well-spoken… How could she have missed being aware of the very concept of bed/mattress/sheet sizes?!

I work as a bartender at a nightclub in New York City. Two fellows with thick European accents come up to the bar, and one asks in all earnestness:

Customer: “Two lines of Coke, please.”

I just stare at him for a couple of seconds. Yup, he’s serious.

Me: “Coke… Uh… cola?”

Customer: “No, to sniff.”

He then does a little mime demonstration for me to really drive home what is by now abundantly clear.

Me: “Ah, I see; you’re an idiot. Go get arrested somewhere else.”

A client says he wants to work with me on a video. He immediately sends me a script for a super complicated effects-heavy project, with every shot described exactly to the second.

When I tell him my fee and explain that this will definitely cost extra given how many complicated effects he wants, he acts surprised.

Client: “But my budget is only $200.”