I work at a seasonal produce market that sells local fruits and vegetables as a cashier and grocery bagger. Today, a man and his wife came through with four bunches of garden carrots that still had the green tops on while I was on bagging duty. The tops of these carrots are usually all over the place, so to get them to fit nicely into our bags, we have to bend the leafy tops over.

The cashier hands me the bunches and I start putting them into the bags as usual. As I’m doing this, I hear a faint sound, which sort of resembles coughing and doesn’t really phase me.

As I go to put the last bunch in the bag, I hear a terrifying and loud screech that completely stuns me and the cashier I was working with. I look up to see the man staring at me very angrily.

It turns out he had a tracheostomy and could not speak whatsoever but was trying to tell me not to bend the carrot tops (hence the faint coughing noises).

The screeching sound was him screaming at me through his tracheostomy for not following his wishes, which he clearly could not get across.

Through all of this, his wife, who could communicate and understand her husband perfectly well, said nothing to indicate I was doing something they did not want.

That screeching sound will haunt my coworker and me forever.

I have recently fallen ill with a nasty sore throat and fever. What little is left of my voice is raspy and painful to get out, so I’ve taken to conducting my half of conversations via text, even if that person is sitting in the same room.

Suddenly, my cat runs across the keyboard of the laptop I’m using, and she pauses my movie. I want to snap at her to get off the keyboard, but I can’t, so I reach for my phone in annoyance.

It’s then that my feverish brain tells me that I cannot text my cat… because I don’t have her phone number.

My step-mother owns chickens and has for a while, as it saves money on the few eggs they eat weekly. At some point, she got into the habit of sharing the extra eggs with our neighbour, and they became friendly because of it.

Not too long back, my step-sister came down with something, and my father and step-mother had to leave the state, which left me with the task of stopping by their house after work each night and feeding the chickens, as well as other things.

Whenever my step-mother checked in with me, she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t finding eggs. She was certain there were some hidden somewhere in the coop, even though I thought the chickens were maybe stressed from the sudden lack of attention, causing them to not lay.

Upon her return, we searched the coop high and low and found nothing. My step-mother was furious. She had apparently purchased pre-fertilised eggs for her chickens and marked them with big red crosses. We couldn’t work out what happened, as there weren’t any eggs shells around, either.

Later that night, I received a text from her stating that her neighbour had come over to complain that some of her eggs made him sick. It seems that during the day, before I arrived, the neighbour had been jumping the fence (not taking the side gate but climbing over the fence) and helping himself to eggs.

She still can’t figure out how he managed to cook a fertilised egg without noticing.

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A woman comes in with a gift card. I scan it and inform her she has $80 to spend. Thrilled, she goes off to shop. About a half hour later she returns with a large pile of clothes. I scan it, and I inform her that the total is $30 after the gift-card. Thrilled again, she goes off to do more shopping in the sales racks, and I void out her transaction, as I can’t suspend a transaction that’s using a gift card.

A bit later, she comes back with even more clothes. I scan it all again and tell her that her total is now $70 after the gift card. She seems even more thrilled, and I realize that she hasn’t understood that she OWES $70, not that she has $70 left to spend. I attempt to explain it to her, but she runs off, and as there’s a line, I can’t leave the register to chase after her. I void it again, hoping that she’ll understand the next time around. I try to get her attention whenever she comes near the register, but she ignores me.

Finally, she comes back with more clothes and her husband. She tells me to scan her now huge pile. Diligently I do, reminding her that her gift card is only $80. I inform her of her total before I use the gift card, then tell her the new total after, which is over $100.

Once again she’s thrilled and turns around to do more shopping, but her husband catches her by the arm. He asks me to repeat the total, and I do, explaining clearly that this is the price after the gift card. The husband firmly tells her they’re not spending that much on clothes.

Finally, the woman seems to understand that the gift card won’t cover it all, and spends close to 20 minutes picking and choosing which items she is keeping, holding up the line because she refuses to move aside for anyone.

Finally, she leaves with her $80 worth of merchandise, frowning at me like I had been trying to trick her, while the husband shakes his head in exasperation.

I leave my husband at home to watch our son so that I can get some clothes shopping done. When I get done and go to put my items on the counter, a horrible realization hits me as to what an observer might think of my purchases and their intended uses.

What am I buying? Some clothes for my son, a kids book… and a black lace corset and a manual air pump.

The pump is for some car maintenance, I swear! The corset I plead the fifth on.