I’m going to a grocery store with a shopping list from my wife. I get there and there is an open curbside space right by the front door. My lucky day!

I check out the list. My hands are full, what with phone, car keys, mask, etc., but I get out of the car and manage to get in the front door with only an upside-down mask to give me pause.

I am halfway down the veg aisle before I notice that I am not wearing my glasses. Quick check: old lottery tickets, dog treats, receipts, poop bags; it’s not in my coat or in my pants pockets, either. No biggy. Must have taken them off in the car when I was reading the shopping list.

Go through checkout. Get the members’ discount. Cashier tacks on a senior discount. I find that amusing.

Get back to the car. No glasses. Not on or under the seat. Not in the console. Not on the floor. Not on the sidewalk heading back to the store. Not on the floor of the produce section or on the shelves. Clerks haven’t found any. Cashiers haven’t seen them.

Go back to the car. Pray for intercession.

Go back inside and give my number to the nice young woman in customer service just in case they turn up.

She writes down my number and looks up.

Customer Service: “Do your lost glasses look anything like the pair you have hooked in your T-shirt collar?”

When it comes to cleaning, I much prefer to leave these matters to my dad. My mom means well, of course, but she is utterly incompetent when it comes to housekeeping and can’t seem to acknowledge it.

She and my dad came over to help me out for a bit, as I was a bit sick after a vaccination. Mom asked if she could use my bathroom while she was here, and, being the polite host I was expected to be, I said yes.

While dad was helping me feel a little better, I noticed she was taking a while in there. After she left, I had to use the bathroom myself. That was when I noticed the smell of cleaning solution. She’d taken it upon herself to clean my toilet while she was in there. Still, I didn’t suspect anything was wrong.

It wasn’t until the next day that I noticed that the smell was as strong as it had been when she visited, when it should’ve disappeared by that point. That’s when I discovered what she did.

She didn’t know what I used to wipe the toilet down after cleaning whenever I did it, so instead of doing the logical thing and asking me — if she had, I would’ve pointed out where my cleaning cloths were — she just assumed the appropriate solution was to use paper towels. And of course, since those can’t be flushed, she just dumped them in my garbage can right next to the toilet and left them there.

To make matters worse, the instructions on the bottle she used clearly said, “Do not breathe in fumes.” Because she just left them there, I ended up inhaling the fumes every time I had to go until I noticed the paper towels and disposed of them in the outdoor garbage can. I ended up feeling sicker than I had been before their visit all because my mother’s well-meaning efforts accidentally poisoned me.

I deal with a doctor who rents a clinic office in a professional building for doctors and other medical professionals. One of the terms of her lease is that she is locked in for a period of five years unless she dies, retires, or sells her practice to someone willing to assume her lease.

I get an email from this doctor.

Doctor: “Hello, I am retiring from my practice and wish to terminate my lease. Please send me the paperwork required to terminate the lease.”

I dutifully do up the paperwork for ending her lease and reply to her email.

Me: “Hello, [Doctor], please find attached the application to end the lease. If you could provide us with a copy of your notice to the College of Physicians retiring your practice, we will begin processing your application.”

Not ten minutes later, I get a phone call. It’s the doctor, and she’s irate.

Me: “Hello, [Doctor], what can I help you with?”

Doctor: “I can’t believe that you are trying to force me out of a job! You’ve asked me to retire! I don’t want to retire! How dare you imply that I’m not fit to do my job?!”

Me: “[Doctor], we asked for your retirement paperwork because you specifically informed us that you were looking to get out of your lease because you are retiring. Is that not true?”

Doctor: “Of course it’s not true! I don’t want to retire; I just want to get out of my lease!”

Me: “I’m sorry, [Doctor], but your lease clearly states that you are responsible for the full term of five years unless you die, retire, or assign your practice.”

Doctor: “I know that!”

Me: “So are you retiring, or are you staying with your practice?”

Doctor: “I’m not retiring! You’re an idiot!” *Click*

I have taken my car in for service because the electrical system keeps resetting in weird ways every time I turn the car off. Once the technicians have looked at my car, I get this call.

Tech: “Hi. We’ve taken a look at your car and it seems like the battery is faulty. You need a new battery.”

Me: “Okay, but you just installed a new battery in this car less than a month ago.”

Tech: “Oh, ummm…”

Me: “And that battery was a replacement for the battery you installed two months before that.”

Tech: “Oh, yes, I see that in the system.”

Me: “Maybe worth another look, eh?”

Tech: “I’ll take this off your bill right now. Can I call you back?”

I’m manning the drive-thru at my popular fast food coffee joint, which is located in a gas station. A lady in a van orders her coffee and pulls to the window.

Me: *After handing her the coffee* “Your coffee is [total], please.”

Customer: “Okay, and can you throw this in the garbage for me?”

Me: “No, sorry, we can’t take trash through the drive-thru, but there’s a garbage can at all of the gas pumps.”

Customer: “Well, it’s your garbage, anyway!“

She points to the ten-plus coffee cups she has from our coffee shop.

Customer: “You should be taking it! Why won’t you take it?!”

Me: “I can’t; it’s a health and safety issue.”

Customer: “I didn’t know we lived in a communist country!” *Speeds off*