My aunt was taking me home after a post-surgery doctor’s appointment. We get to her, new to her, car. She unlocks the door with the key fob and opens her door.

I try my door. It’s still locked. 

She tries the fob again. My door is still locked. 

I tell her to press the unlock button on the door.

She presses the window button instead.

Me: “No. Above it.”

Again, she presses the window button.

Me: “No. The one ABOVE it.”

Aunt: “No, I have to do it from this!”

She tries the fob again. My door is still locked.

With a sigh, I walk to the driver’s side and press the door button on the door, and then I go back to the passenger side.

Et voilà. My door opens.

Aunt: “How did you do that?”

Me: “It’s a button that unlocks the door.”

I tell her, trying not to make her feel stupid.

To be fair, I probably should have mentioned the symbol of the unlocked lock on the button, but I’m not 100% certain she would have found it, even if I had.

I’m picking up my friend from the movie theater, along with her two kids. As they’re getting in the car:

Friend: “You! You will never recommend a movie to me ever again!”

Me: “What do you mean?!”

Friend: “I asked you for a nice movie that I could watch with the girls!”

Me: “Finding Nemo is a Disney movie. It’s fine!”

Friend: “Yup! It’s sooo fine that it starts with a home invasion where the guy’s wife and all but one of their kids are slaughtered! Great laughs for all the kiddies!”

There’s a pause as I pull out of the parking lot, trying to come up with a counterpoint, but all I can say is:

Me: “Well… it is Pixar.”

Our store manager drives a classic old Porsche, inherited from his dad. He also has a disability, so he parks in the disabled bay whenever he comes into work. He puts his disabled badge on the dashboard while getting out, when one of the customers waiting outside the store (there was always a bunch of old guys waiting outside before we opened) storms up to him, shouting.

Customer: “Oi! What’s your disability?!”

Boss: “Tourette’s, you c***, now f*** off.”

My dog locked me out one day by stepping on the door lock button on the door armrest. A guy watching from across the parking lot came over and offered to help.

He unscrewed the radio antenna from the fender, pulled it out at the top of the window glass until he could slide it inside, and pushed the unlock button. 

Took him less than ten seconds.

Me: “Wow. You must have done this before.”

Him: “Yeah, I do this for a living.”

I didn’t ask.

We handled a lot of cash, so every morning, and sometimes two to three times throughout the day, an armored van would arrive and deliver change or pick up the safe contents.

Due to the health-related nature of our business, we have a lot of customers who use the disabled parking spots. There were only three for the whole building, yet the morning armored truck driver would always be sure to pull his van up sideways across all three spots.

The morning delivery took the longest, which often meant customers would arrive and not be able to use those parking spots. After asking the driver not to do this anymore, I was told to call his boss if I had a problem.

His boss said if I had a problem, I had to handle it myself.

So I did.

The parking enforcement sent two people to our location, and when he pulled his van into place as usual across all three spots, they pulled an enforcement car up on either side of him and wrote him a total of five infractions.

Shortly after we switched companies, which was probably unrelated, but I secretly think it was the small shame they felt inside after being jerks about something we all know better than to do ourselves.