While at university in the 1990s, I am flat-sharing with a couple of other chaps. I am studying in my room and can hear the sound of rhythmic chopping from the kitchen. The sound stops, shortly followed by a cry of pain. I dash to the kitchen with the thought that my flatmate has done himself a mischief with the knife. I arrived to see my flatmate with a weeping eye.

Me: “Are you okay?”

Flatmate: “I was cutting some chilis and rubbed my eye! F***, it hurts!”

Me: *Suppressing laughter* “You numpty. I’ve got some hayfever eye drops in the bathroom cabinet. They might take the sting out of it.”

A couple of minutes later, there is a scream from the bathroom. I make my way to the bathroom and knock on the door.

Flatmate: “F***, f***, f***…”

Me: “You all right in there, mate?”

Flatmate: *Pained* “No. I decided to use the toilet while I was in here…”

Me: “And you didn’t think to wash the chilis off your hands first?”

Flatmate: *Still pained* “No.”

Me: “I’ve heard milk is supposed to take the heat out of it. Shall I get you glass to dip into?”

His reply would have made a sailor blush. He eventually left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, holding it away from his crotch. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t look at him without giggling.

I work at a shop that’s a huge tourist attraction in any state and town known greatly for their motorcycles. We’ve just gotten done doing a new owner celebration; we rev motorcycle engines and honk the horns when someone buys a new motorcycle.

Customer: “UGH. This is awful. Why does it smell so badly of car exhaust in here?!”

Me: “They can’t be serious.”

I am the opening manager at a car wash, convenience store, and gas station. A well-forecasted, major windstorm knocks out power ninety minutes after opening. I stay on in case power comes back. I place signs and cones where they can be seen, but all my electric doors are up. Here are a few of the highlights from yesterday and today.

A customer goes up to the pump.

Customer #1: “Why won’t my card go through?”

Me: “Our electricity is out; we can’t sell gas.”

Customer #1: “But I’m on empty! What do I do?”

Me: “I’m told that [Station] across the river is operating.”

Customer #1: “But they make you pump your own there.”

Me: “Well, sorry, I can’t help.”

Later, another customer walks into the dark, silent store.

Customer #2: “You take credit cards, right?”

Me: “Not without power, we don’t.”

Customer #2: “Oh, your power’s out, too?”

I kept count; fourteen times yesterday I was asked if the power was out.

What is going to happen when some weapon attack or act of nature knocks the whole country or world offline?

I am playing cricket. One of my teammates is known as a jokester and also a bit of a dumba**. For those who don’t know the rules of cricket, a bowler gets an “over” of six deliveries, after which another bowler gets an over from the other end. The aforementioned teammate is currently bowling.

Teammate: *To the umpire* “How many?”

Umpire: “Three.”

Teammate: “Is that I’ve bowled three or there’s three to come?”

Me: “The problem with you is that when you say things like that, I can’t tell if you’re joking or dead serious.”

We have had a major snowstorm, and temperatures are well below freezing. However, we’re still open. The roads are only partially plowed, so after a few hours with no customers, we think that maybe people have heeded the warnings and are staying home.

However, around lunchtime, a car slides into the parking lot. The driver gets out, almost tumbles into a snowdrift, and somehow makes it in.

Customer: “Whew! The weather is awful! I’m surprised you guys are open.”

Me: “Well, we are!”

Customer: “You shouldn’t be open.”

Me: “They keep us open because it’s profitable to be open.”

Customer: “That’s not right. They’re crazy. Who would come in on a day like this?”

Me: “…”

Aaaaaand that’s why we stay open in bad weather.