(I walk to a local chain coffee shop every day in the summer. I like to sit at the tables outside and write. One of the tables happens to be right next to an ATM for a bank. It’s a beautiful, sunny day but with a stiff breeze, so I sit next to the ATM to block the wind. I’m enjoying my iced latte and typing on my laptop when a woman parks her large, expensive SUV and comes up to me. She says something, but I have my headphones in. She stands there, so I take my headphones out to be polite.)

Woman: “Are you hacking into that ATM?”

Me: *thinking she’s joking* “Ha, yeah.”

Woman: “Are you hacking into that ATM?”

Me: *realizing she’s not joking* “Uh, no.”

Woman: “You’re stealing people’s information! You are! You’re hacking into that with your computer!”

Me: “…”

Woman: “You’re taking pictures of everyone and stealing their PINs! I’m going to report you! They’re going to arrest you!”

(She goes into the café, and when she comes out she points at me and gets back in her expensive car and drives off. Starting to become concerned, I wander in.)

Me: *to barista* “Did some whackadoo lady come in here and say I was hacking into the ATM?”

Barista: “Yeah, that lady is crazy. We told her you’re in here all the time, and she told us she wanted us to call the police because you were stealing from the ATM. I don’t know why she told us. We don’t care. We don’t own the ATM!”

(God, I love baristas.)

(A customer approaches with patchy blue lips.)

Customer: “I’d like to return this lipstick, please; it makes me look like a freak.”

Me: “You know this isn’t lipstick, right?”

Customer: “What?”

Me: “You would put this over lipstick to give it an iridescent effect which is why it’s called ‘mermaid.’ You could also put this over eye shadow or even highlighter. That’s why it’s a powder so you can dab it on where you want.”

Customer: “Whatever. I still want to return it.”

(After she leaves.)

Coworker: “She knowingly put on a blue sparkly powder onto her lips and questioned why it made her look like that. Honestly, I don’t know what she thought would happen. I mean, there are different colors like red and gold but she still went for the blue.”

Me: “People are weird.”

(My boyfriend has very curly hair and isn’t a fan of haircuts, so his hair has a tendency to puff up into an afro-like style around his head. He hasn’t cut it in over a year and we’ve just moved in together.)

Me: *squinting at his hair* “Have you been using my conditioner?”

Boyfriend: “Um… Maybe. How did you know?”

Me: “Your hair isn’t as frizzy. It’s hanging down more than sticking up.”

Boyfriend: “Oh. Is that what it’s for?”

Me: “You know how you like to play with my hair because it’s all soft and shiny? That’s how I keep it that way. You really didn’t know what conditioner is for?”

Boyfriend: “I have two brothers and my parents are hippies. It wasn’t really a thing in my house growing up.”

Me: “So, why did you decide to put it on your head if you didn’t know what it was?”

Boyfriend: “I was taking a shower and I got bored.”

(There is a grocery store in town that does not allow customers to use their own bags. They also bag badly. I’ve come out of there with 12 items in 16 bags in the past. Today I bought about half a basket of stuff and sighed as the cashier bagged so many things one to a bag despite my protests.)

Me: “Wait. Please put both packages of meat in the same bag. This is getting ridiculous.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They aren’t two kinds of meat. They are both beef.”

Cashier: “One is hamburger. One is roast.”

Me: “Yes. One is ground beef and the other is a chunk of beef.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “They are not two different kinds of meat. One is labeled ground chuck and the other is labeled chuck roast. They are both beef. They both come from cows.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t.”

Me: *totally surprised* “What? Of course they do. They are two cuts of beef, and beef is cow meat.”

Cashier: “Cows are for dairy.”

Me: “Cattle. Cows. Steers. Beef. Please just bag the meat together.”

Cashier: “We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

Me: “Both kinds of meat came off the same animal.”

Cashier: “No, they don’t. We don’t bag two kinds of meat together. Cross contamination.”

(I just stared at her in amazement. I’m not from here. My accent makes that clear. But she spoke with a very local accent. I live two miles out of town and five miles from this store. I had to pass three huge herds of cattle to get there. How could anyone from this area not know where beef/chuck/hamburger/roast comes from?)

(I live with my grandmother as she has problems moving around. Since I moved in with her, I have added Internet access on top of her normal cable box. However, I have noticed that the Internet randomly drops connection and stays disconnected for a few minutes. I call up the Internet company and notice that it is under my grandfather’s name first. He passed away ten years ago.)

Internet Rep: “Am I speaking to [Grandfather]?”

Me: “No, I’m his grandson. He passed away ten years ago. I can put my grandmother on the line as she is also on the account.”

Internet Rep: “I’m sorry, but unless he talks to me I can’t continue this conversation. He is the name on the account.”

Me: “I don’t understand; she is also on the account, so she can help out.”

Internet Rep: “He is on the account. I can’t continue unless he talks with me.”

(I decide to try something stupid and tell him to hold on.)

Me: *with the same voice* “Hello, this is [Grandfather].”

Internet Rep: “Ah, thank you. Now we can begin your fix. What is the problem?”

(I couldn’t believe that worked. In fact, I just found it easier to say I’m my grandfather when talking with the companies. I asked how to remove his name from the account during another conversation, but I needed a four certified copies of his death certificate!)