I am currently fostering a service dog. His human has to have surgery and inpatient rehab. He will be staying with me until she’s home. The organization that trained him suggests that I take him out, wearing his working backpack, as often as possible. I do NOT claim he is a service dog and only take him places that allow pets. Unfortunately, his working backpack (used to carry meds, water, and emergency information) has “Service dog” patches.

We go into a pet store where he is well-known.

Random Customer: “Oh! Is he a service dog?”

Me: “He is, but he’s not working right now.”

Employee: “Murphy! Hi!”

Murphy goes to get some attention.

Random Customer: “What service does he provide?”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Random Customer: “What. Service?”

Me: “He helps his mom, but she’s not here right now.”

Random Customer: “So you are just FAKING? He’s probably not even a real service dog. I’m allowed to ask what service he provides. It’s in the ADA.”

Employee: “Ma’am, please stop. First, you are not allowed to ask. We are. But we don’t, since we allow all well-behaved pets and service animals. We know him. He’s very well behaved, and he’s allowed in, the same as any pet.”

Random Customer: “I’m reporting you for discrimination. I’m allowed to ask!”

The employee calls their manager, who attempts to calm the woman.

Random Customer: “So you’re telling me I can bring in my pet dog?”

Manager: “Yes, we permit all well-behaved pets. Look around.”

He gestures to two dogs being walked into the store.

Random Customer: “If that’s true, why was my husband told not to bring my dog back ever again? That was two days ago!”

Manager: “Oh. You’re the one. I’m assuming your dog is the little white dog that ripped open three bags of food and peed on several others?”

Random Customer: “What does that matter?”

Manager: “Again, we only permit well-behaved dogs. Yours does not qualify.”

She eventually left, muttering under her breath about “fake service dogs.”

I flew back to Philadelphia to visit an injured relative. While there, my wife and I went to a “cafe” for breakfast. It was a coffee/tea place with a kitschy menu and minimalist. There was over-easy egg on toast.

Me: “Can I have the eggs sunny side up?”

Waitstaff: “We don’t do that.”

After reading these posts for the last four years about demanding a manager, I was nervous to ask for the manager, not wanting to be that customer, but I asked for one.

Manager: “The reason we don’t sell sunny-side eggs is that the cooks are ONLY trained to do over-easy eggs.”

Me: “Why don’t you show anyone how?”

Manager: “That was the way they were doing it when I got here.”

So simple, so easy, and nobody thought to explain.

I got to the restaurant at 8:45 PM to pick my wife up from her restaurant shift at 9:00 PM. Her replacement was late so she told her manager she would start the table, until…

First words out of that table’s customer’s mouth:

Customer: “We don’t believe in tipping.”

My wife replied:

My Wife: “Good to know.”

She walked up to her manager and said loudly:

My Wife: “I get two bucks an hour, and these big spenders aren’t tipping, you deal with them, I’m out.”

I was in the planning stages for acquiring a shed for my backyard. Although we had decided where to place it, I mentioned to my pain in the a** neighbor’s son-in-law that we might put it near his border.

Within seventy-two hours, I had multiple interactions with township officials regarding a shed that, because of its size, we did not need permits or township permissions.

The neighbor has done this to others, and eight years later, he does not understand why every single time he does any work to his house, a township official pays a visit to his house.

Back in the eighties, I was a collector and trader of Grateful Dead bootleg tapes. This was a thing back then: taping their concerts was allowed by the band, and they even set aside a section of the audience for tapers.

My boss knew that I had the equipment to copy cassette tapes, and he asked me to duplicate a tape of a motivational speaker he had for each of his project managers to listen to.

The speech didn’t fill an entire cassette, so I added a few minutes of a raucous Grateful Dead concert to fill up the remaining blank tape, and I told my boss what I had done.

The cassettes got handed out, and every manager claimed to have listened all the way through. But nobody mentioned the gratuitous Grateful Dead concert at the end.