(I am the dumb one in this story. I am currently living pretty far up a mountainside, and the closest shop is down a very steep and rocky downhill, about a ten-minute climb. This happens while I’ve done my shopping and is checking out.)

Cashier: “That will be [amount]. Do you want any bags with your shopping?”

(I look at my shopping of several milk cartons, bread, and various small items.)

Me: “Nope! Thank you.”

(Then realizing I really should have said yes, but too awkward to ask for a bag, I start stuffing my jacket pockets and arms with groceries and walk out with what I can only imagine was an “Oh, shit!” expression. I really hope he thought I had a car, and was not just some weirdo that enjoys climbing mountain roads with bread in their mouth!)

(We have a notoriously nasty client who calls about once or twice a week, known as “Mr. F****** Foreigners Guy.” He basically calls to yell and scream at the person he gets through to, stating that he will not talk to f****** foreigners who take Norwegian people’s jobs and ruin Norway. The kicker is, however, that almost every single person he has talked to at our call center is a native Norwegian with a very common Norwegian name. We also know what his problem is, and what is causing it, but none of us have been able to get through to him as he just yells and screams. This day, I am training a new hire. He is originally from Iraq, and he has a very foreign-sounding name. However, he grew up in Sweden and he speaks Swedish. Note that Swedish and Norwegian are similar languages, and we understand each other well, but it is still VERY clear that it is not the same language. I’m listening to the new hire’s calls when we get Mr. F****** Foreigners Guy on the phone.)

New Hire: *in Swedish* “Welcome to [Company]! My name is [New Hire]. How can I help you?”

F****** Foreigners Guy: “OH. MY. GOD. I can’t f****** believe this!”

(I immediately recognize his voice and get ready to terminate the call. However:)

F****** Foreigners Guy: “Finally, a true Norwegian person! With a real Norwegian name and all! You have no idea how many times I had to talk to all these f****** foreigners just to get to you!”

New Hire: *confused out of this world, still speaking Swedish* “Uh… I’m sorry to hear that, sir. What can I help you with?

(And just like that, Mr. F****** Foreigners Guy was the nicest person ever, and got his problem fixed by our new hire. We never heard from him after that, and to this day we still have no idea how a self proclaimed “Norwegian Nationalist” could not tell the difference between Norwegian and Swedish!)

(Around the time I was born my grandmother and grandfather got divorced. Some years after this, my grandmother decides to change back to her maiden name instead of keeping her married name. This ends up causing some confusion. One time in particular, with a phone salesman…)

Phone Salesman: “Is this [Grandmother’s Old Married Name]?”

(My grandmother, not thinking through what she’s saying:)

Grandmother: “There isn’t any [Grandmother’s Old Married Name] anymore.”

Phone Salesman: “Oh, sorry! My condolences!”

(My grandmother didn’t bother correcting him, and she was quite happy with not getting any more phone calls from them.)

(My boyfriend, our four-year-old daughter, and I are at home and have just finished eating dinner. It’s time for our daughter to start the evening routine.)

Me: “Okay, [Daughter], it’s time for your bath.”

Daughter: “But I don’t want to take a bath; I want to shower.”

Me: “I know, but tonight you’re going to have to take a bath.”

Daughter: “But I’m too big to take a bath!”

Me: “What do you mean? Too tall, or too old to take a bath?”

Daughter: “No, you’re not listening, Mom. I’m too…”

Boyfriend: *interrupting from the upstairs bathroom* “Hey, [Daughter]! Do you want bubbles in your bath?”

Daughter: “Yes!”

(She took a bath.)

(I work at a medium-sized grocery store, according to Norwegian standards, and we’ve got a cash-handling system called CashGuard. The customer is supposed add coins themselves, while giving me the notes if they’re paying cash. A lot of people forget that they’re supposed to put the coins into the machine themselves and try to give them to me. I kindly say that they’re supposed to go into the machine.)

Me: “That’s [total].”

Old Lady: *tries to give me her coins*

Me: “They’re supposed to go in there.” *points at the coin machine*

Old Lady: “No, they’re not! You take them and say thank you, like they did in the good old times!” *throws coins at the counter and walks off*

Me: “…?”