(My twin sister and I are working at our father’s store along with our aunt who just started working there. We’re talking about customers and dumb “twin questions.”)

Me: “The worst ones are the over-dramatic questions. Like, ‘Whoa, I thought I was seeing double!'”

Twin: “Yeah, and they’ll add, ‘And I haven’t even started drinking today!’ They all think they’re so original.”

Aunt: “I can see how that can get very annoying.”

(As if on cue, as customer enters the store and sees my twin and me.)

Customer: “Oh, my God, are you guys twins?”

Me & Twin: *nods*

Customer: “And I thought I was seeing double! Wow, I haven’t even started drinking yet! Haha!”

Twin and Aunt: “…”

Me: “Oh, come on. He had to have heard us from outside… Right?”

(I am on a tour of castles in the UK. One of the other passengers is a high-maintenance type who never stops complaining. Her husband seems like a nice enough guy, though on the quiet side. We are touring a 14th-century keep, and the guide is explaining some of the rather nasty stuff displayed on the wall, including an instrument of public punishment and humiliation for nagging wives. It’s an iron muzzle that straps around the victim’s face and through the mouth, pressing down on the tongue and preventing speech.)

Guide: “And this device is called a Scold’s Bridle.”

(He places it across his face to demonstrate.)

Husband: “Do they sell those in the gift shop?”

(I’ve just left my department to take a restroom break when a coworker from another department greets me.)

Coworker: “How ya doing, [My Name]?”

Me: “Bathroom.”

(Pause.)

Me: “Wait a sec. Did you say, ‘How ya doing?’ or, ‘Where ya going?'”

Coworker: “‘How ya doing?'”

Me: “Oh. Well, I guess, technically, the answer to both questions is the same.”

(My husband and I are lying in bed, both on our phones, before going to sleep. He’s laughing, apparently reading something funny.)

Husband: “I promise you that if I live to 100, I will still find fart jokes hilarious.”

Me: “Oh, hun, that’s optimistic of you. Like I’m going to let you live that long.”

(I’m working as a server at a restaurant over the summer break between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Sometimes I like to use fake accents for my own entertainment, and sometimes I get bigger tips for being a “foreigner.”)

Me: “Hello! Welcome to [Restaurant]! My name is [My Name], and I’m going to be your server today. Can I get you started off with something to drink? [Soda]? Iced tea?”

Customer: “Can I ask where you’re from? I love your accent.”

Me: *obviously lying* “Queensland, Australia.”

Customer’s Boyfriend: “Really? That’s awesome! Hey, speak some Australian!”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Customer’s Boyfriend: “Speak some Australian!”

Customer: “Honey, they speak English in Australia.”

Customer’s Boyfriend: “Really?”

Me: “Yeah. We do, actually. Sorry to disappoint.”

(For most of their meal, they argued about whether or not Australians speak English.)