(It is about seven pm and I have just walked into a museum in NYC that has my favorite painting in it. I did not know this previously, and found out after spending the day with my parents at another museum. We are tired, weary, and a tad short on funds. I approach the ticket desk to see how much it will be for one student and two seniors to enter.)

Employee: “Senior tickets are $17 each and students are $12.”

Me: *sullenly turns to my parents, who are sitting down*

Mom: “You go, we will sit here.”

Me: *turns to employee* “One student, please.”

Employee: *accepts my payment and looks thoughtful* “You know, I get free passes that I don’t use. Why don’t you all go?” *hands me three tickets*

Me: *tearfully and excitedly* “Thank you so much!”

(This was about five years ago, but I’ve never forgotten the act of kindness. I was able to see that painting with my family and take a photo with it. We really enjoyed the museum, all thanks to a kind employee!)

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(My boss is a funny guy, and the other day he was thinking about cross-merchandising our two-liter sodas with our chips. One of our soda vendors comes in, and my boss and the vendor notice there is a space between the two-liter Coke bottles and the two-liter Mountain Dew bottles. This is how the conversation goes.)

Vendor: “So, what are we going to put there?”

Boss: *thinking* “What about Cheese-Doodles? So it’ll be Coke, a Doodle, Dew!”

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(I’m relatively poor, living check-to-check on minimum wage, so I tend to frequent dollar and discount stores for many of my basic needs. I’m currently in a dollar store near my apartment. I pick up a few items I think I’ll need, but after wandering around for 15 minutes, decide to put some of them back. Suddenly, a worker approaches me as I’m putting back the some of the items.)

Worker: “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you guys closing or something?”

Worker: “No. It’s not that. We just don’t want you here.”

Me: *taken aback* “What?”

Worker: “I saw you at [Other Dollar Store]. I know you work there!”

(I do not work there.)

Me: “I don’t work there. And even if I did, what’s the problem?”

Worker: “We don’t appreciate corporate espionage here, sir!”

(This is so ridiculous and unexpected a response, I actually burst out laughing.)

Me: *between laughs* “What?”

Worker: *firm* “I know you work at [Other Dollar Store]! I saw you there. I bet they sent you over to check out our prices or something. They always steal all of our business!”

Me: “Dude… it’s a dollar store. Do they really need to send someone over to spy on you in order to figure out how much most of your stuff costs?”

Worker: “I know you work for them!”

Me: “Uh, I’m sorry, but I don’t.”

(The conversation continues for about another minute, with him repeatedly accusing me of “corporate espionage” and me dismissing these ludicrous claims. Finally, he seems to relent…)

Worker: “Fine. Whatever. But I know you work at [Other Dollar Store].”

Me: *laughing* “Okay, buddy.”

(I go to the cashier to ring up the things I am buying.)

Me: “Uhh… You don’t really think I’m committing corporate espionage, do you?”

Cashier: *confused* “What?”

(I explained the situation to the cashier, who was completely dumbfounded by her coworker’s claims. I also noted that in order for him to have supposedly recognized me from the other dollar store, which admittedly I do shop at occasionally, he would have had to have been in there a lot himself… I returned to the store repeatedly several times in the following weeks and so far as I can tell, the worker who confronted me was no longer there.)

(My husband and I are sitting at home on a Sunday afternoon. I haven’t been feeling well.)

Me: “Ugh. My boobs are sore.”

Husband: “Why?”

Me: “I don’t know. They just are; they’re really swollen.”

Husband: “Hmm. Maybe you should go put on a bra.”

Me: “…”

Husband: “What?! That’s why I bought you comfortable ones…”

Me: “That’s… not how that works…”

(Twelve years together, and apparently I have taught him nothing.)

Related:
Making A Complete Boob Of Himself

(I am at a store with my grandmother, picking up dog food. Since I have just gotten out of work and am only picking the food up, as it is on the way and I don’t want to backtrack, I’m still wearing my uniform, consisting of a blue shirt and tan work pants. The employees at the store wear a red shirt and black pants.)

Customer: *approaches from behind while I’m looking at a magazine, a couple feet away from my grandmother* “Excuse me. Where are the flea collars located?”

Me: *ignores her thinking that she is talking to an employee nearby*

Customer: *taps my shoulder to get my attention*

Me: *turns and looks at her* “Am I in the way? I’m sorry.” *goes to move out of her way*

Customer: “No. Where are the flea collars?”

Me: *looks confused* “I don’t know, ma’am.”

Customer: “Well, you should know, since you work here.”

Me: “I don’t work here. I’m only picking up dog food.”

Customer: “Why are you wearing a badge, then?”

Me: *looks down at my badge that clearly states the name of the store I work at on it* “I just got of work and didn’t want to make a unneeded trip. Plus, the employees here wear red shirts, not navy blue.”

Customer: “Well, aren’t you inconvenient.” *stomps off*

(Meanwhile, my grandmother was watching the entire exchange and started laughing after the woman left.)