I worked in a shoe repair store that was part of a much larger shoe store back in the 90s. I’m tucked way in the back, in the basement, but I can also work sales and sell new shoes. I’m behind the counter when a customer walks in holding a very worn-out pair of loafers.

Customer: “Hi, I was wondering if these can be, well, brought back to life.”

I examine the shoes.

Me: “Well… the soles are separating, the stitching’s blown out, and the heel’s worn down to the metal. How long have you had them?”

Customer: “About ten years. I walk a lot.”

Me: “They’ve definitely seen some miles.”

Customer: “Be honest, is this fixable?”

Me: “Have you ever read Frankenstein?”

Customer: *Excited.* “I saw the movie! Oh…” *Getting it.* “Oh… wait… oh no.”

Me: “Yeah…”

I helped him pick out a new and hardy pair of shoes ideal for his active walking lifestyle.

Me: “If you want two pairs, we’re doing buy-one-get-one-half-price on this particular brand at the moment.”

Customer: “Could I get one for my wife?”

Me: “Yes! This style comes in women’s sizing, too.”

Customer: “Cool! I’ll get one for her, too!”

His eyes light up.

Customer: “I’ll call them Bride of Frankenstein!”

I gave him a little extra discount for that.

I’m a jumps coach for a high school track and field team. We’re at a long, all-day invitational meet. During the lunch break, the athletes and coaches play “I’ve Never” to pass the time, i.e., each person takes a turn making a statement like, “I’ve never been on an airplane,” and everyone who has done it is out — school-appropriate statements in this instance.

The throws coach is a very large man and also a Pacific Islander. One of the athletes thinks he has the perfect way to get him out.

Athlete: “I’ve never been Samoan!”

Throws Coach: “Ha! I’m not Samoan; I’m Filipino! I’m just fat!”

He ended up winning the round.

My company is creating a new sub-team to handle particularly urgent matters when they arise. All of middle manglement is in an all-day meeting — literally, it started at 8:00, they took an hour for lunch at 12:00, and it’s 4:33 when they make a decision, as indicated by the time stamp on the email announcing it — about what to name the new sub-team. Their choice: Fast Action Response Team.

My manager approaches me a few minutes later, having walked back over from the meeting. He looks completely drained.

Manager: “Wow, that was a lot of work. I didn’t realize how many managers it would take to come up with a good name.”

Me: “Three more than you had available.”

He started to glare at me, and then it was like a lightbulb went off over his head. After another all-day manager meeting three weeks later, the sub-team’s name became the Emergency Action Team.

We have a new worker in, and she’s quite gullible.

We throw a ball of bread into the deep fryer, and it starts bubbling underneath. This new coworker sees this.

New Coworker: “Why is there a goldfish in there?”

Fry Cook: *Jokingly* “Oh, that’s Gerald the Goldfish. He’s always falling in there.”

New Coworker: “Oh. Will you get him out?”

Fry Cook: “Yes, when I get a chance.”

She came back to check on “Gerald” several times to see if we’d saved him yet. We learned that day that it might be a good idea not to joke with her.

A cheerful woman, looking to be in her forties, walks in holding a tiny potted cactus that looks like it’s seen better days.

Customer: “Hi! I think my cactus is sick. It’s all droopy and sad-looking. I’ve been watering it every morning and tucking it in at night.”

Me: “Tucking it in?”

Customer: “With a little tea towel. Just until it adjusts. It’s in a new pot, so I didn’t want it to feel homesick.”

Me: “That’s… very thoughtful of you.”

Customer: “Thank you! I even mist it three times a day so it stays hydrated.”

Me: “That might be the issue. Cacti don’t really need that much water.”

Customer: *Gasps.* “You mean I’ve been over-loving it?!”

Me: “A little, yeah. Cacti are like cats; they enjoy your company, but they mostly want to be left alone… and not drowned.”