Customer: “I’m looking for pants for my daughter.”

Me: “Okay, what size is your daughter?”

Customer: “She’s fat like you.”

Me: “Okay, so I’m a medium. Does your daughter wear mediums?”

Customer: “No. She’s fat like you. She needs fat pants.”

Me: “So, would a large be okay?”

Customer: “Fat pants. Large is too small.”

Me: “Large is the biggest size we have.”

Customer: “Give me your pants, then.”

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(I get dispatched to a call: ‘one-year-old male, possibly crying.’ We get on scene and the mother opens the front door with a happy and healthy baby in her arms.)

Me: “Hi, ma’am. What seems to be the problem today?”

Mother: “Well, my baby just looked terrible so I freaked out and called you guys.”

Me: “It’s not a problem. Can you tell me what happened?”

Mother: “It was right after dinner. He looked confused, turned bright red, and started crying uncontrollably.”

Me: “And when did he stop crying?”

Mother: “He just stopped right before you guys got here. I changed his diaper, and here we are.”

Me: “Ma’am, I think I know what the problem is. Your baby was just constipated.”

(At this point, the grandmother walks in the room.)

Grandmother: “You called 911? He had to poop! I told you he wasn’t ready for solid food! I’m sorry, guys. You can go back to the people who really need your help. I got this.”

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(A man brings in his father, who doesn’t speak a word of English.)

Customer: “Excuse me, how much are your rooms?”

Me: “Sir, we don’t have rooms here.”

Customer: “Oh, not your room, sorry. I mean, how much does it cost for you to take care of my father?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Customer: “He has some issues and, frankly, I don’t think I want him around anymore.”

Me: “Sir, this is not a hotel or a nursing home.”

Customer: “This isn’t Social Services?”

Me: “No, this is [non-profit] Social Services, and we don’t offer what you’re looking for.”

Customer: “Look, how much is it going to cost me to leave here today without my father with me?”

Me: “Hi, you’ve reached the office of admissions at [Private High School]. How may I help you?”

Caller: “I’m looking at schools for my daughter, and I was wondering if you could tell me some of the benefits of your school.”

(I discuss the benefits of being a student at my high school.)

Caller: “Are you a student here?”

Me: “Yes.”

Caller: “Do you see the programs changing in the next few years?”

Me: “How many years?”

Caller: “Well, my daughter is starting preschool in a month.”

(I am at the admissions office at my university. A coworker leaves a message with a younger kid telling them they’d “call back later” to speak to the adult.)

Me: “Hello, [College]?”

Caller: “Oh, this is a college?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am?”

Caller: “Well, then, why were you telling my kid you were coming to our house?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

Caller: “Someone called my house the other day from this number and told my five-year-old daughter that they would ‘come over later.’ Why would anyone be coming over later?”

Me: “I believe they probably said, ‘Call back later.’ That’s what we usually say if a younger child answers the phone.”

Caller: “Oh, so now you think my five-year-old is dumb?”

Me: “I never said that, ma’am; we just usually don’t leave messages with young children.”

Caller: “If my daughter couldn’t take a message, I wouldn’t let her answer the phone!”

Me: “Well, with all due respect, ma’am, she did tell you we said we would come to your house, which is not correct at all.”

Caller: “Yeah, well, your people should speak more clearly. She’s only five! She gets things wrong sometimes!”