(In elementary school, our computer teacher starts off class every year with keyboarding practice. She does this by calling out each letter a couple of times followed by, “space” — for example “A, A, space” — which we then have to repeat as a class as we type it. We’re up to the letter P.)

Teacher: “All right. Everyone always wants to laugh when they hear me say, ‘P, P, space.’ So, if you’re going to laugh, do it now.”

(She actually gave us thirty seconds to laugh and get it out of our system before continuing with the lesson. And you can bet we did.)

(I am a lot attendant for a local grocery chain. It has been six months since I transferred to a location closer to my house. Most of the supervisors in the front end are friendly, except for one, a very impolite young woman about my age. One day, I’m scheduled from noon to six pm on a particularly hot day. It’s pretty busy today, but there is plenty of staff on hand. I’ve been pushing carts for about three hours when I decide to ask about my break at three.)

Me: “[Supervisor #1], can I take my break?”

Supervisor #1: “You’ll have to ask [Supervisor #2]; I’m almost done for the day.”

(He’s referring to the rude supervisor.)

Me: “Hey, [Supervisor #2], may I take my break?”

Supervisor #2: “Can you give it about thirty minutes? It’s kind of busy right now.”

Me: “Okay.”

(I go back outside and resume pushing carts. Thirty minutes later…)

Me: “May I take my break now?”

Supervisor #2: “Not yet. Give it another thirty minutes.”

(I go out for thirty more minutes and come in at 4:00.)

Supervisor #2: “Before you ask, no, you may not take your break yet. Go back outside, please.”

(After thirty more minutes of cart pushing, I come inside. It’s finally started to die down.)

Supervisor #2: “Back outside. You may not take your break yet.”

(Thirty minutes later, I’m absolutely exhausted. When I go inside…)

Me: “[Supervisor #2], I’ve been working for five hours straight. It’s started to die down, so may I please take my break?”

Supervisor #2: “You know what? I’m sick and tired of you bothering me about your break, so guess what? You’re not getting your break today.”

Me: “But… you can’t do that! All associates are entitled to a break!”

Supervisor #2: “Breaks are not mandatory. You know that as well as I do. If I hear one more word on the matter, I will issue documentation. Do I make myself clear?”

(I reluctantly nodded and went back outside. My last hour of work that day felt like an eternity. The next day, the assistant manager called me and [Supervisor #2] into the office. Incredibly, I was chewed out for not taking my break that day, even though it was no fault of my own. Thankfully, [Supervisor #2] didn’t get off scot-free, either; she was written up for intentionally violating the store’s break policy, which stated that even though breaks AREN’T mandatory, workers cannot be FORCED to skip them. She didn’t last much longer after that; a couple of months later she was forced to transfer to another store due to a second violation of the break policy.)

(I’m observing this interaction occurring between an elderly man in a wheelchair and a little girl who looks to be no older than two or three.)

Little Girl: “Grampa, I tired! I don’t want to walk anymore!”

Elderly Man: “Okay. Give me your hand.”

(He helps her climb up into his wheelchair and places her in his lap.)

Little Girl: *in a creepy voice* “Now, run everyone else over!”

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(I’m a nineteen-year-old student going to college for a music education degree. Two days a week, I go to a kindergarten daycare class to observe and gain field experience. I always sit with the kids at lunch to get to know them better. Today, they are talking about their siblings.)

Me: “I don’t have any brothers; I just have a little sister.”

Student #1: “How old is your sister?”

Me: “She’s sixteen.”

([Student #2] glares at me)

Student #2: “You said you had a little sister. Sixteen isn’t little!”

Me: “Well, I’m older than her, so compared to me she’s little.”

Student #2: “But sixteen isn’t little!”

Student #1: “My big sister is sixteen.”

Student #2: “See?! Sixteen is big!”

Me: “Well, that’s because you’re little. I’m big, so sixteen is smaller. Remember, I told you I’m nineteen. Is sixteen bigger than nineteen?”

Student #2: “No, it’s smaller.”

Me: “So, my age is bigger than my sister’s age, making her the little sister.”

Student #2: “But sixteen isn’t little!”

(I was not able to convince [Student #2] that it was my age that determined whether my sister was little or not, not their ages. She still thinks I’m lying when I call my sister “my little sister.”)

(My sister works at an auto auction. They take in cars that have been totaled and auction them off to buyers who will either invest in fixing them up or use them for parts. They have many clients from all around the world, and a good portion of them only know the barest of English. One day, a customer comments on this to my sister.)

Customer: “Do you get a lot of r****ds in here who don’t talk English right?”

My Quick-Witted Sister: “We get a lot of people who don’t SPEAK English.”

(And guess what, sir? The guys who can’t speak English well are still lapping you by speaking more than one language at all.)