I was already warned by the hosts that I had an annoying cornball at my table when he wrote his name down on the waitlist as “Hugh Jazz” and asked them to repeatedly call it out when his table was ready. I’m in the weeds but can handle getting triple-sat. The first two tables are chill, expedient, and flawless.

Then, I reach the “hero” of our story. He has a female companion with him; I don’t know how he landed a date.

Me: “Hi, can I get you anything to drink?”

Customer: *With a dumb grin* “I don’t know. Can you?”

I groan hard on the inside.

Me: “Yep, it’s my job. Couple coffees?”

Customer’s Date: “Sure!”

Customer: “I’ll have a non-decaf!”

Me: “So… two regular coffees?”

Customer: “Yes!” *To his date* “This guy’s sharp!”

I’m just not in the mood, and I bail to go fetch the coffees. I have a feeling this guy must have murals of “Marmaduke” and “Garfield” comics lining his walls.

I drop off the coffees on the table and his date asks me for creamer. I point at the caddy on the table.

Me: “We have half-and-half right here.”

Customer: “Then I’ll have a whole!”

Me: *A bit perplexed* “Whole milk?”

Customer: “Suuuuure.”

I am just not getting a good read on this guy, but I am getting annoyed. I turn around to take care of other tables but eventually work my way to the kitchen walk-in and grab a small pitcher of whole milk.

I come back to the table, and the guy has already dumped a few creamers into his coffee.

Me: “Uh, did you ask for milk?”

Customer: “Already got it. A half and a half make a whole!”

He starts cackling. For the record, his date is not reacting or laughing at anything, either.

I pretty much lose it and break character.

Me: “No, bud, that is just awful. I’ve got a million things to do. You can’t just be wasting my time.”

He clammed up and apologized, and he was quiet for the rest of the evening. Sometimes it’s the small victories.

For the record, I don’t have anything against people trying to be funny. I know they mean good cheer, but at least rehearse in front of an audience at the local dive’s open mic night to find out how awful your material is instead of holding employees hostage who don’t have a choice.

Coworker: “Is something broken?”

Me: “I don’t think so. Why?”

Coworker: “There’s a weird rumbling or humming coming from somewhere. Sounds like something is broken… or about to break.”

I walked over with her to her section, and she was right. There was a strange sound, like an engine straining, coming from… somewhere.

We followed the sound to the source, and both of us tried to stifle our laughter.

I know it’s a cliché, but we have a large seating area in the store we call the “Husband Zone”, as it’s where all the husbands sit patiently while their wives shop for clothes. Often they will read magazines or talk amongst themselves about equally cliched husbandy things (trust me, I’m not stereotyping — they do!) but today was something special.

Four sleeping husbands had managed to synchronize their snoring so perfectly that there was a constant sound at the same pitch, never interrupted, always taken over by the next husband when it was time to inhale. It was… amazing.

Sadly, it only lasted a few more seconds before one of them coughed, breaking the cadence and ending the magic.

I was at the checkout at a grocery store, and the poor cashier kept trying and trying to get a small package of turkey breast to scan. She then tried multiple times to key in the SKU number. Then, she called for her supervisor or someone of elevated rank, who also couldn’t make it work.

Then, THAT person called for a Customer Service Representative, who also couldn’t make it work. The machine kept saying the item didn’t exist.

Cashier: “Dude, it’s right here in my hands!”

I kept struggling to resist the urge to make that “Oh, I guess it’s free” joke. Finally, she threw up her hands.

Cashier: “I give up!”

I cracked.

Me: “Well, I guess you could just make it ‘on the house’!”

She laughed as she entered the name and price manually, and I was finally able to check out.

My friend loves April Fool’s Day. Just this year, she posted ads online for bogus stuff — one with goats for sale and the other for an animal impersonation contest.

On both of them, she included her husband’s phone number and encouraged people to call pretending to be responding to them.

I hate being solicited for insurance. Even my car and home insurance company seems to be required to ask me if I want life insurance. I have devised a method to get them to put a note into my file so they will know not to ask me again.

Insurance Agent: “While you’re on the line, I see you don’t have any life insurance with us. You know, life insurance [blah, blah, blah]…”

Me: “I have no need for life insurance. You can see in my file that I have no dependents.”

Insurance Agent: “But do you have enough money set aside for your funeral expenses?”

Is this really an issue people are concerned about?

Me: “Don’t need it. A Hefty bag is only a dollar.”

That usually shuts them up, at least for a while.