During my junior year, I go on a trip to San Diego with one of the clubs from my school, which is in the Chicago area. After our flight lands and we arrive at our hotel, we decide to get lunch at a restaurant in Old Town then spend the afternoon sightseeing in the area.

The hotel offers a shuttle for guests but will need to make four trips due to the size of our group. I am in the second group, and we are dropped off at the intersection where the first group is waiting. There are some stands a few feet from the intersection that have interesting crafts for sale, so I decide to browse while we wait for the last two groups to get there.

I finish making a purchase – which takes me less time than a single round trip to the hotel, let alone two – only to turn around and discover that everyone is gone. Turns out the teachers found out that the shuttle could drop off directly at the restaurant, so the last two groups went there while the first two walked over, not realizing I wasn’t with them.

Thankfully, there are kiosks with maps nearby and I remember the name of the restaurant, so I quickly find my way there. As I am walking up to the front door, one of my teachers is walking out with her cell phone in hand and, seeing me, says, “I was just about to call you!” I don’t have a cell phone, which I tell her. “Then what’s this number?” I check her phone and, sure enough, it is my number – my home number.

And that’s how I narrowly avoided giving my parents a heart attack from 2000 miles away.

(At my favorite convention, I decide to camp out overnight for the chance to enter a drawing that would get me into an autograph session for one of my favorite shows. A miracle occurs and I get in! Later that day, I’m at the signing and get to talk briefly to the cast. The first actress I talk to isn’t new to show business, but is kind of new to the convention circuit.)

Actress #1: “Hi! How are you?”

Me: “I’m great! How are you?”

Actress #1: “Oh, this is great, but I’m a bit tired.”

Me: “Yeah, me, too. I waited ten hours for the drawing this morning.”

(She sort of just stares blankly at me, trying to process this information. It never occurred to me she didn’t know this was how long we had to wait.)

Actress #1: “Wait, honey, where did you sleep?”

Me: “Well, outside.”

Actress #1: “YOU SLEPT OUTSIDE?!”

Me: “Yeah, but we all did. That’s the only way to get into this.”

Actress #1: “Wow…”

(She smiles at me and I move on. The next actress plays my favorite female character other than the lead, and I’m so excited to meet her.)

Me: “It was worth sleeping ten hours on concrete to meet you.”

Actress #2: *takes my hand in hers and smiles* “Love, I would do the same thing. It’s so great to meet all of you.”

(I’m on cloud nine when I meet the next actor. I’m cosplaying as the lead character.)

Actor: “Oh, hey, [Lead Character], how are you? Oh, wait, you’re not [Lead Character]! What’s your name?”

(I absolutely melted, told him my name, and thanked him. There have sadly been a lot of stories of celebrities letting people down and being terrible people, but I feel like sometimes we need a reminder there are some really great ones out there who are genuinely good people who love their fans.)

Customer: “I would like two orders of the chicken caprese with no caprese.”

Me: “Okay, it is a chicken dish based on a caprese salad which is comprised of fresh mozzarella, sliced tomato, fresh basil, and then drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. So the actual dish is a balsamic glazed chicken breast stuffed with fresh mozzarella, tomato, and basil. Which of the ingredients do you wish to avoid?”

Customer: “Caprese.”

Me: “So you want two plain chicken breasts then?”

Customer: “No, I just don’t want no caprese on it.”

Me: “Again, caprese means fresh mozzarella cheese, tomato and fresh basil leaves drizzled with balsamic vinegar, so when you say you do not want the caprese do you mean the balsamic glaze on the chicken? Do you not want the basil? Or is it the cheese, or the tomato? Because they all make up the “caprese” part of the chicken caprese dish, so saying you don’t want caprese makes it plain chicken. So can you tell me which ingredient it is you do not want?”

Customer: “Caprese.”

Me: *soul slowly dying*

(I work in an electronics lab at a high-tech manufacturer in California. My supervisor sometimes takes credit for my work. One day a customer in Ohio is having trouble with their user interface port, a problem I have already solved. My supervisor asks me to explain the fix, all the while repeating, “I do NOT want to go to Ohio!” Later, the owner walks in for an update.)

Owner: “So, did you come up with a solution?”

Supervisor: “Yes, it seems that—“ *repeats my solution as his own*

Owner: “That’s good work, [Supervisor]. I’m sending you to Ohio to fix this customer’s unit.”

Me: *suppressing a shriek of laughter*

(A woman comes into our store, and I recognize her as someone who made a huge scene a few months ago and got away with a refund and $25 gift card. I am DREADING her coming up to returns! There are a few people in front of her, and their kid drops their ice cream. I call for someone to come pick it up. We are severely understaffed, so I put a big sign in over it. The sign completely covers the spill, so unless you move the sign, you will not step on the ice cream. I see the woman eyeing the sign like she is debating whether to slip or not. As I cash out the man in front of her, I see the hazard sign go up in the air and hear someone scream. She says her back hurts and she refuses to get up. The woman then yells at me to call my manager.)

Me: “Do you want me to call 911?”

Woman: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

(I run and get my manager. While in the back, I tell my manager to review the camera above my station that will PROVE she purposely slipped!)

Manager: *comes outside to see what happened* “[My Name], what happened?”

Me: “She claims she slipped.”

Woman: “Claims?! I did slip! What are you talking about?”

Manager: “Okay, I’m going to get an incident form and we will figure this out, but ma’am, do you want an ambulance?”

Woman: “Incident form? I don’t want an incident form; I want a $200 [Store] gift card!”

Manager: “Ma’am, you’re clearly hurt; what will a [Store] gift card do for you?”

Woman: “If you give me a gift card, I won’t press charges.”

Manager: *looks around and pointedly looks at camera* “Press charges, sweetheart. Have a good day.” *walks away*

(The woman gets up, without issue, and follows my manager to customer service.)

Woman: *to customer service* “I AM HORRIFIED BY THE LACK OF CONCERN FOR ME HERE!”

Manager: “Ma’am, wait right here. I’ll help you.” *walks away and comes back out of the security room* “Ma’am, I want to show you something.”

(The woman follows the manager into the security room.)

Woman: *comes out of room* “Why would I fake something like that?”

(The undercover security come out and tell the women she is banned from this location.)

Woman: “I DON’T WANT TO COME BACK, ANYWAY!”