(My sister is a recent medicine graduate and is now a doctor. My mother-in-law finds out that she’s practicing.)

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, your sister is practicing now? So, that means she writes prescriptions?”

Me: “Well, yeah, I would think she does?”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh, you have to get her to write me a prescription for this ADHD medication that makes you lose weight like crazy!”

Me: “Well, you’re welcome to go and see her and ask for it, but I don’t think she’ll give it to you. Why would you want it, anyway?”

Mother-In-Law: “I want to lose a few kilos before summer this year.”

Me: “Well… No. I think that medication is for people whose weight is putting their health in danger.”

Mother-In-Law: “Can’t you just get her to write me one? I don’t want to go and see her.”

Me: “Um… No, I think that’s illegal.”

Mother-In-Law: “Well, then, can you get me a prescription for Xanax? I’m super stressed.”

Me: “No.”

(Our store allows for product exchanges on the condition that the item hasn’t been used and is still in good condition. We sell a lot of pots and pans, and the best way to tell if they’ve been used is by smelling them for the scent of any food. A lady comes up to the register with an expensive frying pan that has been removed from the packaging. This brand is exclusive to our store and is known to have quite bulky packaging.)

Customer #1: “I just want to exchange this for a different size, if that’s okay.”

Me: “Yup, that shouldn’t be a problem! Just making sure, has it been used?”

Customer #1: “No, I just took it out of the packaging to see if it would fit in my cupboard.”

(I let her go to find a smaller pan, and examine the one she left. It seems to be in perfect condition, but I give it a sniff and swear I can smell just a hint of spices, indicating that it may have been used. One of my coworkers is working the register with me.)

Me: “Hey, [Coworker #1]! Can you take a look at this pan? I think it’s got a smell on it.”

([Coworker #1] comes and stands on my left and takes a whiff.)

Coworker #1: “Um… I’m not too sure. It seems to be fine, though.”

Me: “I don’t know.” *takes the pan back and smells it again* “I swear I can smell chili, or pepper, or something.”

(A second coworker comes to my right side.)

Coworker #2: “What’s going on?”

Coworker #1: “[My Name] thinks this pan’s been used; what do you think?”

([Coworker #2] gives it a good sniff, putting her face up close to it, then shakes her head.)

Coworker #2: “Nah, it’s fine. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Me: *takes another sniff* “Are you sure?”

Coworker #1: *takes a sniff up close* “Yeah, I think she’s right.”

Me: *takes it back and sniffs again* “Okay, maybe I’m just imagining it, then.”

Coworker #2: *double-checking, smells the pan again* “Yeah, it’s fine, hasn’t been used.”

Customer #2: “Um… Excuse me?”

(All three of us look up and see a man waiting to be served, standing there with an odd expression on his face. It’s at that moment we realise he has been watching the three of us standing at the counter in a huddle, passing around a pan and taking turns to sniff it all while talking in hushed voices. Immediately, [Coworker #1] and [Coworker #2] scatter off in opposite directions and I quickly place the pan to the side and plaster on a big smile.)

Me: “Next waiting!”

(I’m out with a large group of friends to celebrate the end of the uni year. I’m at the bar attempting to get a soft drink, but I only have a small amount of cash on me.)

Bartender: “Hi, what can I get you?”

Me: “Hi, how much are your soft drinks?”

Bartender: “What kind?”

Me: “Lemonade.”

Bartender: “I’ll go and check.”

(I chat to my friends while the bartender is gone. She eventually returns with TWO glasses of lemonade.)

Bartender: “That’s $6, please.”

Me: *thinking only one is for me* “You made that non-alcoholic, right?”

Bartender: “Of course. They’re $3 each!”

Me: “But I only wanted one.”

Bartender: “No, you didn’t; you asked for two.”

Me: “Actually, I asked you how much they were.”

Bartender: *with attitude* “Oh. Well, you said two, but that’s fine, I guess.”

(I paid my $3 and enjoyed my lemonade! I’m still not sure whether the girl was trying to trick me or was just having a long day.)

(I’m at one of my local supermarkets, and I’m trying to use a self-serve checkout to scan a tray of tiramisu that’s been marked down to 50% for quick sale. There are about three orange stickers with the marked-down price and barcode, but they all refuse to scan through. I look around for assistance, but I notice that the helper has left with a customer into the main product area. However, the loss prevention security guard notices me and walks over to see if he can help me.)

Security Guard: “You okay, brother?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m just trying to scan this through, but the barcodes don’t seem to be working.”

Security Guard: “Let me have a go. I know they can be tricky, but I always find a way.”

(He twists and turns the tiramisu and tries every possible angle to get the half-price barcodes to scan.)

Security Guard: “Ah, this one’s a bit tricky. The helper should be back soon. She’ll be able to type in the—”

(He notices the regular barcode and scans it through, so it now shows as full-price in my checkout.)

Me: “Um…”

Security Guard: “There we go.” *laughs* “Told you I could do it! Stay safe, brother!” *leaves*

(The helper returns a couple seconds later, and I point out the full-price sale to her and tell her what just happened.)

Helper: “Yeah, he kind of does stuff like that. But he’s a good security guard, though.”

(She voided the full-price sale and manually typed in the special half-price barcode.)

(I volunteer as a teacher’s aide at the same primary school as my father, who is in his late forties. We both have the same distinct last name, so everyone realizes that we’re related. Our exact relationship, however, confuses a lot of kids.)

Kid #1: “Hey, I know you! You’re [Dad]’s sister!”

Kid #2: “Are you [Dad]’s wife?”

Kid #3: “My friend told me that you were [Dad]’s mummy.”

(Finally…)

Kid #4: “Hey, aren’t you [Dad]’s daughter?”

Me: “Yes, I am. Not a lot of people think I’m his daughter right away. They think I’m his sister, or his wife.”

Kid #4: “But that’s weird. You’re really young, and he’s really old. He’s like eighty, or something!”

(So close, kid. So close.)