(I’m at the salon getting my hair cut with my stylist who I have been going to for nearly five years. We know each other quite well and both have a similar, snarky sense of humor. The stylist at the chair to our left brings over her new client, a stunning young woman in her 20s, with beautiful, thick blonde hair down to about the bottom of her waist.)

Other Stylist: “So, what are you looking for today?”

Client: “I just want about two inches taken off.”

(She then indicates with her hand what would be between four to six inches. My stylist and I lock eyes in the mirror and try not to laugh. The stylist and client go off to the sinks.)

Me: “Her boyfriend is SOOOOO lucky!”

(At home, my significant other is playing a medieval-style video game. I’ve just gotten out of the shower and am walking back to our bedroom to finish getting dressed when he updates me on what’s happening in his game.)

Significant Other: “Hey, baby, I just f***** the princess!”

Me: *laughing* “That’s awesome, hun. Want to do it again?”

Significant Other: “Nah, I don’t think I can get back to that part of the game again, because it’s story-based.”

Me: “Uh… Babe…”

Significant Other: “What?”

Me: *raises eyebrow, looks down at towel covering me, looks back at oblivious fool*

Significant Other: “Oh. Well, then…” *races me to the bedroom*

(I am a skinny 18-year-old girl and have just started a new job. I am told to introduce myself to my new coworkers, and I nervously walk up to three of them. One is an older woman, and the other two are young boys about my age. Before I can even introduce myself, this happens.)

Female Coworker: “I’m just sayin’ that us curvy women are better to do from behind. You have more to grab onto back there. I mean, really.”

(She grabs my arm and whisks me around so my back is toward them all.)

Female Coworker: “Would you want to do her from behind?”

(Both the boys look very uncomfortable, and I am in shock, so she continues.)

Female Coworker: “Skinny girls are just made to ride on top. I bet you like being on top, don’t you?”

(I ran away crying, as I was still a virgin at the time and was highly embarrassed. Both the boys came up to apologize to me, and we became good friends. I never did get along with that older coworker, though.)

(A patron approaches me at the circulation desk in our public library.)

Patron: “I have something awkward to tell you.”

Me: “I won’t judge. I promise.”

Patron: “Well, you might.” *she shows me a heavy coffee table book, “Selfish,” Kim Kardashian’s selfie book* “The pages are all stuck together, and I thought you should know I found it like this.”

Me: “Well, it’s in no condition to circulate.”

Patron: “The thing is—” *lowers her voice to a whisper* “I know this smell and it’s a man’s… you know.”

(It took a moment to register, before I nervously called over my more senior coworker for moral support. We chucked the book because it was clear the damage was done within the library, since there was no way we would check a book out to anyone in that condition, nor would we return it to the shelf like that. Neither of us could be sure the sticky stuff was what the patron suggested it could be, but we were taking no chances there.)

(My office is a large house that was built in the ’70s and has wide windows in what used to be the living room. Since my office is in that room, our neighbors across the street are able to see what we’re doing easily and are prone to report to our boss about odd occurrences they see. In other words, they’re nosy. The weather has been in the low 20s, so I wear a cardigan to work one day. It gets warm enough in the afternoon for me to take it off, so I stand up from my desk to pull it off. About thirty minutes later, I get a call from my boss, who is female.)

Boss: “Is there anything I should be concerned about?”

Me: “No. Should there be?”

Boss: *sounding amused* “[Neighbor] called me. She said she noticed you stripping in front of the window.”

Me: *laughing* “Really? She’d have to be pressing her face up to the window to see that. I pulled off my cardigan only. I have a black tank top on under it. How could she miss it?”

Boss: “I don’t know, but next time you decide to have a strip show in front of the window, let me in on the show, so I can freak her out.”

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