(In kindergarten I was somewhat of an advanced reader, so my teachers occasionally had a hard time finding books for me to read. At one point, I had been given “A Series of Unfortunate Events”, which is somewhat of a disturbing book for a five-year-old. When I came home in tears after beginning to read it, my mom had to have a talk with the teacher who recommended it. This is what happens.)

Mom: “Why did you recommend this book to my son? He read it and started crying!”

Teacher: “Really? How come?”

Mom: “What do you mean how come? The main characters are imprisoned with an evil uncle who basically tortures them!”

Teacher: “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Mom: “What? How could you not know?”

Teacher: “I didn’t read it first, if that’s what you mean. I had no idea.”

Mom: “Why didn’t you read it? What if it had something rude in it?”

Teacher: “Oh, I figured the plot didn’t matter as long as it was his reading level.”

Mom: “WHAT? How could the plot not matter!? You never should have given him that book!”

Teacher: “But it was his reading level…”

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(About five minutes before we’re scheduled to close, we notice smoke coming from the back office, so we evacuate the building and call 911. A car pulls up and parks a few minutes later while the fire department is inside. A man gets out, and begins walking toward the building.)

Man: “Looks like there’s something going on at [Restaurant], huh?”

Manager: “Yeah. We had a small fire tonight, but it’s under control and nobody was hurt.”

(He breezes past us, toward the door of the restaurant.)

Manager: “Sir! What are you doing?”

Man: “I was just going to swing into [Restaurant] for dinner really quickly.”

Manager: “You can’t go in there, sir.”

Man: “I don’t need to mess with the fire. I just want a sandwich.”

Manager: “There’s nobody in there to serve you. We’re all out here.” *she motions to the group of us, all in shirts with the restaurant’s logo on it* “We evacuated the building because it was on fire.”

Man: “But you said it was under control now! What if I gave you my money, and you went in, made my sandwich, and brought it back out to me?”

Manager: “We closed fifteen minutes ago. Even if nothing had happened and we were all inside, you still wouldn’t be able to come in, because we’d be closed.”

Man: “That’s bull-s**t; you guys just don’t want to make my food! I’ll take my business to [Competitor].”

Manager: “And they’ll let you in, because not only are they still open, but their building is also not currently on fire.”

(The man stormed back to his car, swearing to never come to our restaurant again, and sped off in a huff.)

(I am mixed-race, black and white, and my skin is visibly brown. I identify as black. I am sitting at a fairly diverse table of pre-schoolers playing with play-dough. The first kid to speak is also mixed like I am, and visibly brown.)

Kid #1: “Miss [My Name], what are those strings for?” *points to the strings on my black hoodie*

(I put up my hood and pull the strings tight a la Kenny from South Park when he gets scared, tie them off, and grin at the table of kids from my tiny remaining circle of visible face.)

Kid #2: “You look like a black person.”

(Pause.)

Me: “I AM a black person…”

Kid #1: *shocked* “You’re a black person?!”

Coworker: “So are you, [Kid #1]!”

I have arranged by email a meeting with a professor at my college, who I’ve never met face to face. She has a very busy schedule, and I’ve been waiting for this meeting, regarding a time-sensitive issue, for three weeks. By email, she instructs me to go to the fourth floor of her building, and meet in the conference room directly across from the elevators.

When the time arrives, I go to the building, and see a sign hung on the meeting-room door that reads ‘Meeting in progress. All meetings with Professor [Name] will be held in [Other Room]’.

I make my way to the other room, and it is empty. I check down the hall, and see that her office is a few doors down, and also empty, so I decide to wait in the hallway in case she comes. After about 20 minutes, a woman walks down the hall and asks me what I’m doing. I explain that I’m waiting for that professor, and she tells me that she is that professor, and then proceeds to berate me for not meeting in the initial room she’d told me to. I tell her that there is a sign on the door, which she denies, so we walk down the hall back to the conference room, where, sure enough, the sign is still up. She then turns to me and says, “Well, I have another meeting in 10 minutes, so you’ll just have to reschedule yours,” and leaves.

It’s going to be another three weeks before I can meet with her again.

(My store has recently started a new “Store Pick-Up” option where customers can order items online and then pick them up at a local location the same day. Corporate is running several different sales that can only be applied to these online transactions. This is turning into a problem since many customers see the low prices online and get angry when they come into the store and see a higher price tag. A customer calls me over and starts to complain about this discrepancy. I explain the special sale, but she isn’t having it.)

Customer: “So there’s nothing you can do for me?”

Me: “There’s actually a lot we can do! We can process your purchase online using the store computer and it can be ready for you, at the sale price, in about 10 to 20 minutes.”

Customer: “20 minutes?!”

Me: “Yes, that’s one option. If that doesn’t sound good, remember that this sale will be going on for a few weeks. You’re welcome to go home, purchase as much as you’d like online, and then pick it up the next time you’re in town.”

Customer: “Why can’t you just go up to the register and give me this price today? You’re going to lose a lot of business this way!”

Me: “I’m sorry, but this sale is specifically meant to encourage people to shop online and use the in-store pick up. I’m not allowed to manually adjust any of the prices to this level.”

Customer: “So there’s nothing you can do for me?”

Me: “Ma’am… there are still several ways that we can get you this sale. We can use a store computer and process an online order within about 10 minutes, or you can put in the order at your leisure and pick it up another time. Are you interested in doing either of those?”

Customer: “Just change the price for me at the register; I want these items right now.”

Me: “I can’t do that, I’m afraid. These prices are only for people who use the online ordering system.”

Customer: “So there’s nothing you can do for me?”

Me: *facepalm*