(I’m a face painter at a famous zoo in California. All of our face paints on our menus have text explaining what they are, i.e., a kid wearing a lion face paint will have text on the bottom saying “lion.” A family comes up to me first thing in the morning and looks at our face paint menus. The little girl chooses a dolphin and the aunt walks over to the register to pay for it.)

Aunt: “Which one did she pick?”

Mom: “The dolphin.”

(The aunt tries to find the picture of the dolphin on my display boards which is not pictured. She points to the elephant.)

Aunt: “This dolphin?”

(I show her the picture on the menu; she ignores me and then points to the shark.)

Aunt: “Oh! This is the dolphin, but does it have to have a horn? Can you paint a flower, instead?”

(I look at what she’s pointing at and see she’s talking about the dorsal fin — the top fin on the shark.)

Me: “Ma’am, that’s a shark. And that’s not a horn, it’s a dorsal fin.”

(I point out the dolphin.)

Me: “This is the dolphin.”

Aunt: “That one has a horn, too! Can you paint a flower, instead?”

Mom: “She knows what she’s doing. Just pay her so we can get started.”

(I ring her up and then go to the kid. While I’m painting, I hear the aunt and mom talking.)

Aunt: “I thought she wasn’t going to paint the horn.”

Mom: “It’s a dorsal fin.”

Aunt: “What’s a dorsal fin?”

Mom: “I don’t know; we haven’t learned about it on Octonauts yet.”

(This occurs shortly after David Bowie’s passing. We are playing his music over the speakers. A woman comes in and heads straight for the checkout.)

Me: “Hello! How can I help you?” 

Customer: “Turn that music off.”

Me: “Oh, is it not to your liking?” 

Customer: “It upsets the cats.”

Me: *looking around* “Cats? We only allow guide dogs in the store. You’ll have to leave if you have cats with you.”

Customer: “They’re at home.”

Me: “They aren’t with you?” 

Customer: “No.” 

Me: “How can they hear the music if they aren’t here, then?”

Customer: *narrows her eyes* “If my cats are upset when I get home, I’m complaining!”

(With that, she left. An hour before closing we did get a call from her. The manager listened to her for half a minute before bursting out laughing saying he hadn’t heard that one before, and he hung up. We haven’t heard anything from her or her cats since.)

(We are exhibiting our miniature horses at the Fort Worth Stock Show. We have nice horses and do pretty well. We occasionally bring horses to sell. I am sitting in my stall, prepping my little 32″-tall horse for his class. My friend is with me. The door is open because the little kids love to watch us. We like to talk to anyone who comes by; you never know who may buy a horse! An older “lady” sticks her head in the door.)

Old Lady: “They aren’t good for anything, are they?”

Me: “I beg your pardon?”

Old Lady: “Well, you can’t ride them. What good are they?”

Me: “Well, we drive ours and teach them to jump and do trail—”

Old Lady: *interrupts* “But you can’t ride them! They’re worthless!”

Me: *getting edgy* “You can do anything with them but ride them. We do parades and take them to nursing homes and—”

Old Lady: “YOU CAN’T RIDE THEM!”

(By this time I’m getting frustrated, but still being nice.)

Me: “No, you can’t ride them. Only little kids can ride them.”

Old Lady: “WORTHLESS!”

(My friend and I look at each other.)

Old Lady: “Do you ride him?”

Me: *resigned* “No, ma’am, I don’t ride him. My feet drag.”

Old Lady: “Oh, okay.”

(Her highly embarrassed friends drag her away. My friend and I look at each other again.)

Friend: “Really? What was that?!“

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(I’m 20 years old and a shrimp of a guy — about five-foot-six and 120 pounds soaking wet. I’ve gone on two dates with my girlfriend, but we haven’t yet kissed. She lives with her parents and wants me to meet them, so I come over for dinner.)

Girlfriend: “Hi! Come on in and I’ll introduce you.”

(I step inside the house and enter the living room. My attention is drawn to the enormous dog sitting on the rug, wagging his tail. This dog has to outweigh me by 50 pounds, minimum. My girlfriend’s dad is scratching the dog’s head.)

Girlfriend: “Oh, that’s Bucky. Bucky, say hi!”

Bucky: “Woof!”

Me: “Hi there, pup!”

(Seeing a new, friendly-looking human, Bucky bounds over to me and jumps up, trying to lick my face. I get knocked down, and the next instant, I’m lying on my back with Bucky happily slobbering all over my face. I think I might drown in drool.)

Girlfriend: “So much for me being the first member of the family to kiss you.”

(I married my girlfriend a year later. Bucky and I were besties until Bucky died of old age about ten years after I met him.)

(I’m outing myself as the stupid customer here. A new aquarium opens a few towns over from where I live, and being a nature enthusiast, I decide to give it a visit. Midway through, I come upon a touch tank with horseshoe crabs and sea urchins inside it. I bend down to touch them, but I hesitate and turn to the attendant.)

Me: “These urchins won’t sting, will they?”

Attendant: “No, they’re pencil urchins. They’re perfectly safe, but they can grab your finger if you stick it between their spines.”

(I did that and felt the urchin trying to hold on. Satisfied, I headed off to the next exhibit. Five minutes later, I realized that I had actually asked if the TOUCH TANK contained stinging urchins. I had to sit on a bench for a few minutes, contemplating what I had become.)