(A young male customer in baggy clothes shuffles into the drugstore where I work and walks up to me.)

Customer: “Uh, yeah, uh… do you guys have any condiments?”

(I lead him to the condiment aisle and gesture to the ketchup and mustard.)

Customer: “Uh, no, uh… that’s not what I wanted… you got any, you know, rubber gloves?”

(By this point, I have a fairly good idea of what he’s looking for, but I diligently lead him to the cleaning supply aisle and point out the rubber gloves with a smile.)

Customer: “Uh, nah, I’m looking for… you know…”

Me: “Sir, do you mean CONDOMS?”

Customer: “YEAH!”

(I hope he used them properly; he wasn’t ready to reproduce.)

(Mom, Dad, and I are sitting around the dinner table playing cards. I am distracted by the cat, who is letting me pet him.)

Mom: “Stop petting the cat. We’re playing cards.”

Me: “But he’s cute!”

Mom: “I think your father’s cute, but you don’t see me petting him all the time!” *pause* “Or at all.”

(In order to use our pepper mill, you need to pull the outer part down.)

Friend: *fiddling with the mill, not getting it to open*

Me: “You need to pull it.”

Friend: *pulls at the middle*

Mom: “Just like a foreskin.”

(This is observed by my father while checking into a hotel. The desk clerk happens to be female, and another guest checking in ahead of my dad is male.)

Desk Clerk: “Here’s your keycard, sir.” *starts writing something on the inside of the paper sleeve*

Customer: “Please, don’t do that.”

Desk Clerk: “I’m sorry, sir?”

Customer: “Just don’t. I’m a married man, and I have no intentions of cheating on my wife.”

(There’s a bit of back and forth before the clerk is finally able to get out:)

Desk Clerk: “Sir, this is the password for the Wi-Fi.”

(The customer turned beet red, thanked the clerk, and left.)

(My family is putting together a grocery list while we finish eating dinner. I’m sitting with three of my siblings, the youngest of whom is ten.)

Me: “Oh, add [food] if they have any. Get a good flavor, like [flavor] or something. The ones we have are too spicy.”

Brother: “Spicy? Really? They’re not spicy!”

(We go back and forth about this for a minute before…)

Me: “—peppers in the cheese and—”

Mom: “All right, all right. Everyone tastes differently.”

Dad: *in a deep voice* “You know how I taste.”

(My mom’s face went red, and I gave my dad the most horrified look while my younger siblings stared on obliviously.)