(My older sister and I have finished shopping at a thrift store and are waiting in line to check out. There are lots of families in the store, and soon there is an announcement over the store’s PA system.)

Store PA: “For safety reasons, children cannot be left unattended in the store. Please make sure your children are with you at all times.”

(While we wait, I’ve decided to look at the jewelry displays on the other side of the register counters. I am gone for maybe a minute, but out of the corner of my eye I notice my sister is already talking to someone, which isn’t that unusual, given how outgoing she is. She’s in her mid-20s and is talking with a man who looks to be in his 40s. When I return, I do not expect to hear the following.)

Random Man: “It’s important to keep up with the trends to look presentable. I have thousand-dollar suits, but this was too good a deal to pass up. I mean, eight dollars?” *holds up old-looking, yellow-ish and tan blazer* “One time, it was raining and I didn’t want to ruin my fancy shoes, so I wore grungy shoes—”

Sister: “And you brought the other pair to change into?”

Random Man: “No. But wearing those shoes turned out to be a mistake.”

(I’ve been silent, trying to figure out why she’s talking to him about work clothes. She suddenly turns to me.)

Sister: *in a louder, more excited voice* “I’m thinking about going back and buying that Super Truck video game.”

Me: *groaning* “Please, no. That game looked so stupid.”

Sister: *continues pointedly talking to only me* “Nah, it looked fun!”

(I get the feeling she’s trying to avoid talking to the man again, and we continue to chatter about video games until we reach the register. We pay quickly and dash out the door before he can follow us.)

Me: *Incredulous* “Was that man in a thrift store trying to hit on you by saying he has thousand-dollar suits?!”

Sister: “Yeah! I don’t know how I get all these random guys hitting on me! He was definitely way older than me and not that attractive. He just started talking about how he was going to get [the blazer] tailored.”

Me: *joking* “I should have known better. They clearly said not to leave your children unattended in the store, for safety reasons.”

Sister: *also joking* “Yeah, this is all your fault.”

(I am working with a recruiting agency to find a job. I’m not fond of my agent, as she usually does not respond in a timely fashion. She often gives me less than 24 hours notice on an interview. I’ve just received a job offer from a company I wish to work for. It is Thursday.)

Agent: *via email* “You’ve been offered [office job]. [Assistant] will send you the contract to sign by the end of the day, and you should go for drug testing by Friday, which someone at the job will send you the address to. Also, I’m out of town next week; call me if you need anything! Good luck!”

Me: *responding* “Dear Ms. [Last Name]: Thank you for your time. I await the contract. [My Name].”

(At this point, I keep a tab open on my browser and keep an eye on my mail to get it all sorted ASAP, but nothing comes. The next morning, Friday:)

Agent: “Just checking in on everything, and letting you know who to contact next week with anything. They are [Name] and [phone number].”

Me: *via email* Hello, Ms. [Last Name]. I never got the email for the contract I need to sign for [Company offering the job]. Could you give me the location of the office I need to go to for these tests? Thanks, [My Name].”

Agent: “You should get that email within a few hours, and your drug test may have to wait until Monday.”

(I’m not happy with this answer as I have to have all of this ready before I start the contracting job, which will not wait, and I have other appointments I need to do during that time, and also have to go to my part time job right now. Six hours later, at 1:00 pm, after I get off work, I get the contract, which is filled electronically. It scrambles my information when I send it back).

Contract Sender: *via email* “There was a problem with work history section. Please fix and send back.”

(It then lists how my current job title and supervisor is filled in at a previous job, which is scrambled with the third job’s phone number, etc. I fix and resend the information. Within 15 minutes, I get an email to set up an appointment with someone for the I-9 form, which I assume is the drug test, and luckily they have a time slot available at 3:00 pm at a location 30 minutes from my home. I chug two glasses of water before I go and bring all the info I need. I arrive at location, which advertises that they do paternity, drug testing, etc. The secretary there takes my photo IDs and scans them with my social security card, then tells me to go home, as that’s all my recruiting company needs from me. This is very confusing to me, but I leave and go home. At 4:45 pm I get another email.)

Contract Sender: “NOTICE! Please print off the following attachment and proceed to the indicated address immediately for the drug test.”

(I am even more confused, as this location is less than five minutes from my home, and it’s almost 5:00 on a Friday. I decide to call the drug testing office directly.)

Drug Testing Office: “Hello, this is [Office].”

Me: “Yes, hello, sir. I just received an email from my recruitment office telling me to go to your location immediately.”

Drug Testing Office: “Yes.”

Me: “So, I should go to your office for this testing?”

Drug Testing Office: “Yes.”

Me: *confused* “Now? As in, right now? Immediately?”

Drug Testing Office: “No! We’re closed right now!”

Me: “That’s what I thought. When can I come in?”

Drug Testing Office: “We open tomorrow at 9:00 am.”

Me: “Okay, see you then!”

(I went to the office at 9:00 am the next morning, and it was not until 9:15 that the building got opened, and it was 9:30 before the office I needed to go to opened up. The office door indicated that they opened at 8:00 am on Saturdays.)

(We go to St. Louis on vacation and decide to visit the Gateway Arch. There are about 40 or so people in front of me. Directly in front of me is a dad with two young children. The dad looks ahead and counts out how many families are going before him and works out which elevator they would be getting on. Note that ALL the elevators kind of lurch, making a metallic noise as the elevator starts up.)

Dad: “Yeah, kids, this is going to be really awesome! We are going to be very high up and have an amazing view of the city! But we don’t want to be on elevator four.”

Kids: “Why not elevator four, Dad?”

Dad: “That elevator will jolt and make a horrible metal noise and will eventually fall and we will all die! But there are a lot of elevators, so we don’t need to worry about that.”

(The kids look scared, but reassured by their dad. As the line shortens, the kids start counting ahead to predict which elevator they will be on.)

Kids: *gasp* “DAD! DAD! WE ARE GOING TO BE ON ELEVATOR FOUR!”

Dad: “Nooo. There’s no way!”

(The line ends, and the dad and kids are next. The kids are near hysterics. The dad turns to me.)

Dad: “Sir, would you mind switching places with me?”

Me: “NO WAY! That’s elevator four!”

(The dad only smirked as his plan came full circle. They got into the elevator and, sure enough, it jolted and made the noise. Pure horror-filled screams filled the room, as everyone who was aware of the situation was bent over laughing.)

(My grandmother had a habit of saying bizarre and off-the-wall statements. When Grandpa, her husband of 40 years, passed away, she topped them all. They have a burial plot together where one coffin will be on top of the other.)

Grandmother: “I’m glad your grandpa went first… so all of his juices won’t be leaking out on me.”  

(Thanks, Grandma. I’ll never get that out of my head.)

(I work in a gas station with the option to select “pay inside” on the gas pump, which allows you to fill up first before paying. This button alerts us that someone wants to pay inside and then we are able to approve the pump to start without pre-payment.)

Customer: *walks up to counter* “Hey, if I give you my license will you turn my pump on so I can fill up?”

Me: “I don’t need your license, ma’am. If you go outside and select the ‘pay inside’ button I can start the pump for you.”

Customer: “I don’t get it. Why can’t I fill up my car and then pay inside?”

Me: “You can. I just won’t be able to turn on the pump until you hit the button.”

Customer: “But they let me do that at other gas stations all the time!”

Me: “Ma’am, I’m saying when you go outside to start pumping, you just have to hit the ‘pay inside’ button before you select the fuel grade.”

Customer: “You know, whatever! I’ll just go to [Gas Station down the road] instead! This is ridiculous!”

(The customer starts to walk out door, then turns around and comes back.)

Customer: “Just put $20 on it! Whatever!” *begins to storm out again*

Me: “Miss, what pump are you at?”

Customer: *yelling, as if I can read minds and know which of many vehicles belongs to her* “Oh, my god! Five!”

(The gas station down the road she said she would go to instead is strictly pre-pay only.)