Me: “Good morning, [ISP]. This is [My Name] speaking.”

Caller: “Yes, good morning, sir. I’m trying to connect to my internet, but it’s asking me for a ‘wireless key’.”

Me: “Alright, sir, that’s the password you can find on the back of your router.”

Caller: “You misunderstand me, sir. It’s asking for a key, not a password.”

Me: “Yes, the key is a password. It’s on your—”

Caller: *angry* “It’s asking for a key! I have the key here. I’m just looking for the keyhole!”

Me: *surprised* “May I ask where you got that key?”

Caller: “It’s the key on the door where the modem is in! The modem key! I just need to know where to put it in!”

(I have a summer job on a construction site sweeping work areas, sorting materials and such. One day my coworker and I—both underpaid temps passing time until college classes start again—have been asked to sweep the floor in an area where the construction team is installing the air conditioning system.)

Boss: *to my coworker and me* “You need to be careful because we don’t want dust in the system, so work slow.”

Coworker: “You won’t have to tell us twice, sir. We can do slow!”

(We start sweeping the area slowly. After some time, the boss comes by.)

Boss: “Guys, you really need to go slower. There is too much dust in the air.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there are a lot of people working here. We are taking it really easy, but we can’t tell the dust to get on the floor.”

Boss: “Well, just slow down. Take it REALLY easy!”

Me: “Sure, we can slow down!”

(We take it down even further as the boss leaves. After all, when the boss tells you to work slower you don’t say no!)

Coworker: “This is the first time I’ve ever heard someone apologize to the boss for not slacking off enough!”

(Soon after, the boss comes back again to check up.)

Boss: “There I still too much dust in the air. You guys really need to go slower!”

Me: “Well, I think that if we go slower you need to make a time-lapse video to see us moving. Are you sure about this?”

Coworker: “Yeah, not that I’m complaining, but we aren’t exactly the only ones here who can stir up the dust. We should probably sweep the whole area before the day is over.”

Boss: “No problem. Just get as far as you can get, but make sure you go really slow this time.”

(The boss leaves again, and we are trying to figure out how we can slow down even further and still actually do anything. Once again, as the boss finishes his rounds, he checks up on us again.)

Boss: “Well, it’s getting better, but can you please slow down even more?”

Me: “I am honestly not sure if I can do that. We are barely moving as it is, and I think we were just passed by a snail.”

Boss: “Well, try anyway. It’s getting better, so keep up the good work!”

Coworker: *after the boss leaves* “I love this job.”

(I am in the drive-in of a well-known fast-food chain. I’m with my family and want to order some burgers.)

Me: “I would like to order five cheeseburgers.”

(I look over at the display, and see that the employee has accidentally put us down for only two cheeseburgers.)

Me: “Excuse me? I see you put down two cheeseburgers, but I’d like to order five.”

Employee: “So, you want one more?”

Me: “No, I would like three more. I want five, and it’s on two now, so we’d like three more.”

Employee: “So, just two more?”

Me: “No, three more.”

(She goes off to verify this with her manager. The manager comes back, types the three in to get us three extra cheeseburgers and leaves again. Unfortunately, at the pick-up window there are only three cheeseburgers in the bag. The employee who took our order is at the window.)

Employee: *confused* “You wanted three cheeseburgers total, right?”

(Luckily the manager got there and gave us all five for free.)

(Note: I’m a male customer at a coffee shop. I’m standing in line behind an obnoxious man and a beautiful blonde woman he’s unsuccessfully trying to chat up. The server is a young woman who appears to be new at her job.)

Man: “Excuse me! I ordered a non-fat, non-sugar, orange mocha chip frappuccino! This isn’t non-fat, and there’s no whip cream on it.”

Barista: “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll remake it immediately.”

Man: *to blonde woman* “What is up with these guys!? They screw everything up.”

Barista: “Here’s your drink, sir. I hope this one is up to standard.”

Man: “What are you, f****** r*****ed?! This is a plain mocha frappuccino! I wanted an orange chip mocha frappuccino! Get it f****** right!”

(The barista remakes his drink again, but is clearly on the verge of tears.)

Man: “Oh, my God, you people need to learn to speak English! I said non-fat. Don’t tell me it is non-fat, because I can taste—”

(At this point, the blonde woman decides she’s had enough of the man and interrupts him.)

Blonde Woman: *in a strong Irish accent* “WILL YOU STOP BEING A JERK FOR FIVE F***ING MINUTES?! The girl has made the d*** coffee perfectly this time — I watched her! And, even if she hasn’t, she’s young and clearly new at her job. It’s a f****** coffee! Cut her some slack!”

Man: “Excuse me, but I want what I asked for! I don’t see why that’s so hard!”

Blonde Woman: “She probably looked at you, assumed you were a man, and was therefore completely confused by your non-fat, non-sugar, orange mocha chip frappuccino order. Real men drink real coffee, and they don’t bully teenage girls until they cry. Now, can you please stop being an almighty dickhead, and just f*** off?!”

(Everyone in the coffee shop clapped, and the man left, embarrassed. I paid for the blonde woman’s coffee, and found out she is from the same part of Ireland as me. One thing led to another, and I asked her to marry me this Christmas. She said yes!)

(It’s my friend’s wedding. His bride-to-be has some behavioral issues, so not everyone is happy about their marriage. Nonetheless, I decide to go over to my friend’s mother and congratulate her.)

Me: “Hi! Congratulations on your son’s marriage!

Friend’s Mother: “Don’t you mean, ‘My condolences’?”

Me: *awkward silence*

(On the other side of the room, we see my friend being congratulated by a female friend. Immediately, the bride storms over and pulls my friend away.)

Friend’s Mother: “I give them three weeks before one murders the other.”