I’m an American teaching in Mexico. I’m joking with a new teacher about how badly my digestive system reacted when I first arrived.

Me: “It took me about a month for my stomach to get used to things. I even ended up having to throw away a pair of underwear.”

Teacher: “You threw them away? Why didn’t you wash them?”

Me: “We don’t have a washing machine. Our cleaning woman does our clothes by hand.”

Teacher: “Why didn’t you ask her to wash them?”

Me: “That… might have been a bit much to ask.”

I am three years old. We’re dressing up to go to church with my godparents, who are very religious and proper. My father is putting on his dress shoes and doesn’t realize our poodle has done her business inside of one. He puts his foot right in it. I find his absolutely hilarious.

Later, we’re sitting in the church and my godmother is in the pew next to me. Even though the minister is talking, I decide that this is the perfect time to fill her in on the awesome events of the morning.

Me: “Aunt [Godmother]! Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe!”

Godmother: “Shh!”

I think she just doesn’t believe me, so I reply much louder.

Me: “But it’s true! Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe!”

Godmother: “[My Name], hush!”

The minister has begun to speak at a higher volume and people are turning to look at our pew. My mother tries in vain to quiet me and my father is laughing. I am getting mad now.

Me: “Ditzy pooped in Daddy’s shoe! She did!”

The minister starts almost shouting to drown me out. I start shouting, too.

Me: “DITZY POOPED IN DADDY’S SHOE!”

My godparents were mortified. My mother was about to crawl under the pew and hide. My father was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. They finally got me calmed down, and at the end of the sermon, the minister came over to congratulate my parents on having a daughter with such fine lungs.

I’m in charge of the cashiers. I call a lady forward and she’s a little quiet, but otherwise fine, until I pick up a pair of white pants.

Customer: “Those had… something on them. But I still want them.”

Me: “Oh? Okay, where is the stain? I may even be able to discount them!”

It’s one of the few powers I have, and I don’t mind helping out where I can. But this is where things take a turn. There is blood on the crotch of the pants, and a little down one of the legs. Horrified, I am stunned into silence for several moments.

Me: “I… I don’t think I can sell these. It’s a hazard to health.”

She stays silent and stares at me.

Me: “Is that… is that okay?”

At this point, I am completely at a loss.

Customer: “Yes, that’s fine.”

After she left, it took very little digging to realize she had been the one to bleed on them. I was horrified and revolted that she had let me touch the pants with my bare hands, and I wrapped them in two bags before washing my hands for five minutes straight.

I’m eating a pizza with a friend. When there’s only one slice left, I notice a hair baked into the crust. I go to complain.

Me: “There’s a hair baked into this pizza. I’d like a discount on our bill, please.”

Clerk: “I can get you another pizza.”

Me: “We just ate the entire pizza before we realized it was unsanitary. I don’t want another pizza; I’d like a discount.”

Clerk: “All I can offer you is another pizza.”

I take the hair in my fingers and lift. The entire slice rises. I hold it, dangling in the air by the hair for several seconds.

Clerk: “I’ll get you a discount.”

I work for my local council. I have had a little old lady asking about pensioners’ discounts and exemptions for Council Tax. She keeps going on and on for a while and it seems like she just wants someone to talk to, so I let her tell me her life story.

At the end of the call:

Caller: “Thank you very much; you have been most helpful.”

Me: “Not a problem. If you need help with anything else, don’t hesitate to call us.”

Caller: “Okay, thanks, bye.”

Thinking she has put the phone down, I put my phone on speaker so I can quickly get some more scrap paper. Next moment, I hear a loud “Pffffft… Ahhh…” and realise the lady has just farted down the phone.

Caller: “Oops.” *Click*