(My boyfriend is folding laundry.)

Boyfriend: “You know how I know you’re not some kind of mythical creature? You can’t fold a fitted sheet, either.”

Me: “Yes, I can. They taught me in my CNA class.”

Boyfriend: “You’re a witch!”

(I’m a vendor. I represent certain companies and the products they make. I am working with a manager in dairy with some juice our company makes. This occurs while we are standing and going over upcoming events. The manager is female, in store apparel; I am male, with my company logo all over me.)

Customer: “Excuse me, sir, where can I find [obscure item]?”

Me: “I’m sorry; I have no idea. This lady here—” *points to manager* “—knows everything about this area and can answer that for you.”

(After she directs the customer…)

Me: “While we are standing here, if everyone asks me questions and not you, you have to buy these displays.”

Manager: “You’re on!”

(Cue six people coming up to us in the span of five minutes –all different ages, both male and female. All of them come up to me. To my surprise, even the women immediately come to me.)

Manager: “THIS IS GARBAGE!”

Me: “Sign here, please!”

(I am the customer in this story. This takes place just after Daylight Savings Time goes into effect in Europe. I walk into a store and see the store owner awkwardly balanced on a chair, adjusting a clock that is mounted on a high shelf.)

Me: *singing* “Oh, the times, they are a-changin’!”

(I couldn’t help it, but at least she laughed.)

(A group of three teens — a boy and two girls — come into the store. The girls are singing, much to the boy’s annoyance.)

Girls: *singing* “Hiiighway to the danger zone!”

Boy: “No! Stop it!”

Girls & Me: *singing* “Riiide into the danger zooone!”

Girl #1: “See?! She gets it!”

(The boy makes frustrated noises as they browse the store.)

Me: *stage whisper* “Lana! Lanaaa… Danger zone!”

Girl #2: *pointing at me* “I like this one. This one’s cool.”

(Due to being a small business owner, I get all types of spam calls, but due to the clientele and our cloud-based services, I can’t afford to not answer the phone, as it may be a client’s phone number I’m just not familiar with. A particularly dense and determined telemarketer calls me repeatedly from one of those “unknown ID” lines that are impossible to trace. I am getting fed up with them, and so is my girlfriend. She decides to answer the call since my attempts thus far to get them to stop have been unsuccessful:)

Girlfriend: *sultry voice* “Are you ready for something hot and satisfying?”

Telemarketer: “…huh?”

(My girlfriend lets out a low and guttural belch into the phone and hangs up.)

Me: “You are disgusting.”

Girlfriend: “But effective!”

(She was right; they didn’t call back!)