(My father is totally blind. This story takes place back when many women still wear real furs. My mother’s winter coat has worn out, and she and my father are in a department store shopping for a new one. As my mother is browsing, my father grows bored and starts feeling the various coats around around him. He comes upon a fur coat that is thick and plush, and believes it to be on a mannequin.)

Father: “Hey, [Mom]. Come look at the coat on this dummy!”

(My mother turns around and is horrified to see my father running his hands all over an extremely angry, elderly woman in an expensive fur.)

Other Customer: “EXCUSE ME?!”

Mother: “We’re so sorry, ma’am!” *drags my father away, who is doubled over laughing*

(I’m still don’t know if he legitimately thought it was a mannequin as he claims, or he just wanted an excuse to leave!)

Our cats have a raging addiction to sharp cheddar cheese. They also prefer it to be finely shredded. Because “finely-shredded, sharp cheddar cheese” is rather long to put on the grocery list, we instead write “cat cheese.”

I was grocery shopping when my husband called to ask when I’d be home. I answered, “I just need cat cheese and I’ll be checking out.”

The shopper about two paces in front of me abruptly stopped and turned to stare, obviously puzzled. She followed me to the cheese and watched me pick up a package. When I walked away, she started picking up different cheeses and examining them.

My husband and I had a good laugh speculating about her thoughts; maybe she was picturing a dairy barn with rows and rows of cats hooked up to milking machines?

(I work twelve-hour shifts in registration in a very busy emergency department. I’ve just walked into work and we are currently experiencing downtime with our system, so I have to manually enter patients in with the correct spelling and date of birth, or the system will reject them. A patient comes up to me to check in.)

Patient: “I need to be seen by the doctor.”

Me: “Okay, I just need your first and last name.”

Patient: *speaking extremely low* “Dara Smith.”

Me: “Okay, did you say Dara?”

Patient: “No, I said Da-ra-thy.”

Me: “So, is that Dorothy?”

Patient: “No, Dorothy has no syllables; my name has three.”

Me: “Okay, can you spell your first name for me?”

Patient: “I can’t believe you don’t know how to spell Do-ra-thy.”

Me: “Is it just the traditional spelling of Dorothy? D-O-R-O-T-H-Y?”

Patient: “Yes.” *shaking her head*

Me: “Okay, ma’am, the way you are saying it makes it sound like there is an A in there somewhere. But I have you checked in, so take a seat and they will call you up shortly.”

Coworker: “And we still have eleven hours to go with this s***.”

(I work at a popular fast food chicken restaurant. It’s about noon, and a rather deranged-looking man comes up to the register.)

Me: “Hi there. Is this going to be for here or to go?”

(He stands there and stares at me for a good twenty seconds before snapping out of his trance.)

Customer: “Oh! Sorry. This is to go. You know, I have a granddaughter who looks just like you. I make a lot of money, too. You know that place off of route 51…” *more incoherent rambling*

(He finally tells me he’s looking for a family meal, and I try my best to find the one that will fit his needs.)

Me: “We have a sixteen-piece meal; it comes with four large sides and eight biscuits. How about that?”

Customer: “Okay, and I’ll have that with no wings, please… You know, I have tons of money, right?”

Me: “Sure, and what would you like for your four sides?”

Customer: “No, I have money!”

Me: “I know. I’m asking what four sides you wanted with your meal.”

Customer: “That sixteen-piece meal up there; that’s what I wanted.”

Me: “Sir, I’m aware of that. I’m just asking what sides you want with it. Mashed potatoes? Coleslaw?”

Customer: “Yeah, I’ll have two mashed potatoes and two coleslaw.”

Me: “All right, that’ll be [total].”

Customer: “Now I have the money, all right?”

Me: “Okay.”

(He pulls out a whole wad of cash, seemingly all $1 bills. He tries to count them all and gives up.)

Customer: “Ugh, I know I have it. Let me just pull it out of what I got from that…” *more rambling*

(He eventually pulls out a fifty and gives it to me.)

Customer: “Now, I want to give you guys change for helping me out. Take what’s left and split it with each other.”

Me: “That’s very nice of you, but it isn’t necessary.”

Customer: “Oh, oh, oh, but it’s my gift to you. You should take it.”

Me: “Well, thank you, sir.”

(There ended up being a slight wait on his meal, so my manager went up and offered him a free drink while I handed it out. He talked to us for about five minutes about random things including his daughters, roads, and politics. He actually ended up inviting us to a candlelight dinner at his house before leaving.)

(When scammers call, we like to scam them right back. I answer a call with a very breathy, “Hello.” The guy starts his spiel.)

Me: *interrupting with a very sexy-sounding* “What are you wearing?”

(He stutters, but continues his speech.)

Me: “I’m picturing you in fishnet stockings and stilettos.”

Scammer: “WHAT?!” *silence for a moment, then* “Guys! You have to hear this!”

(I hung up before he could hear my laughter.)