(I take payments from our customers. The following situation happens on a regular basis.)

Customer: *by email* “Please charge my invoice to my credit card on file.”

Me: *after trying the card, and it is declined* “Your credit card ending in 1234 was declined. If you would like to use another card, please call me with the number.”

Customer: “Oh, that card was compromised/had fraudulent charges on it, so I had to get a new one. The new card number is—” *gives entire card number, expiration date, security code, and billing address*

Me: *after deleting the credit card number* “Thank you for your new credit card number. In the future, please call me if you have a new credit card.”

Customer: “Why? Emailing it is so much faster.”

Me: *facepalm*

(I will regularly use what could be described as a discount supermarket, partly because they are so cheap, but also because some items are so much better / fresher than bigger shops.)

Coworker: “I would never shop at [Cheap Supermarket].”

Me: “Really? I go there all the time.”

Coworker: “Ugh, no, why would you risk your life buying shoddy food?”

Me: “I wouldn’t call it shoddy. Besides, they also sell a load of branded items.”

Coworker: “Probably fake.”

(I figure I’m getting nowhere so I drop it. Lunch time rolls around and I unpack my lunch.)

Coworker: “What’s that?”

Me: “This is a mini pizza, fresh this morning; I also have some sparkling water, nuts and a chocolate biscuit.”

Coworker: “Are you going to share that pizza?”

Me: “Oh, you wouldn’t like it. It’s from [Cheap Supermarket].”

(He, a grown man, actually had a strop, threw his sandwiches around, and sat in silence for the next half hour.)

(I work for a large corporation, one that prides itself on doing the right thing for its people and the community. As such, it has a number of initiatives it pushes, including a commitment to diversity. I attend an offsite seminar on the subject. We are asked to state what makes us diverse as individuals. We are in the central valley of California and a lot of the attendees are first and second generation citizens. There are lots of stories about border crossings and odd circumstances, all interesting but not really adding much to the experience. When it is my turn I decide to give them both barrels. My presentation is summarized below, all of which is true:)

Me: “I am a white, straight Protestant male.”

Me: “I have been married for 16 years and have two children.”

Me: “I was raised in an upper middle class background in New England.”

Me: “I attended exclusive private boarding schools for high school and college.”

Me: “I can trace my ancestry back to the Mayflower.”

(When I finished I got some odd looks. Somehow, that wasn’t what they were looking for…)

(I and a few coworkers are starting the day off slow with a little conversation before heading out. Two coworkers have a notoriously bad attitude towards one another and put very little effort into dealing with the issue. On this particular day they are scheduled to travel together to an alternate location.)

Coworker #1: *holds out vehicle keys to [Coworker #2]*

Coworker #2: *wordlessly stares at [Coworker #1]*

(Awkward pause.)

Coworker #1: *pulls keys back*

Coworker #3: *sarcasm* “Nice communication, guys.”

(The Dutch speaking part of Belgium doesn’t like to be confused with their Dutch neighbours – and vice versa. I’m on the phone with a Scottish customer and somehow we come to the topic “ethnicity.”)

Scot: “Right, you are Dutch, aren’t you?”

Me: *sternly* “No, I speak Dutch as a native language but I’m Belgian. I think I’ll call you ‘English’ from now on.”

(He apologized and never confused the two again!)