It’s Halloween and I’m walking home from work through a part of town known for its fancy stores.

I’m dressed in surgical scrubs and running shoes, with my work ID on a lanyard around my neck the way hospital employees wear theirs, and sprayed with fake blood.

A random woman, well-dressed and in her forties, stops me, and asks if I’m a surgeon. I tell her no. She then starts to talk to me about her medical problems.

Lady, seriously?

(While working the photo lab area on Halloween, I decide to wear a homemade mask I made four years ago. The mask is of the scary face, bulging bloodshot eyes, and very long nose of a character from a popular RPG series. While a fun mask to wear — customers get a kick out of it — how I made it has the unfortunate side effect of limiting my vision and making it a little hard to breathe. Occasionally I take it off and leave it on the counter. On one such occasion, while I’m helping one customer, another decides to put it on and take a selfie, thinking it might be a cool, store-bought mask. While I probably wouldn’t have minded if they had asked, I decide to have little fun at her expense.)

Me: “Do you realize how much saliva I put into that thing?”

Customer: “EW!” *throws mask across the counter*

(And that, my friends, is why you don’t try every mask you see.)

(The YMCA where I volunteer switched from swiping cards to scanning them in March. As the machine we used to swipe the cards is attached to the front desk, we cover it in duct tape so that members will refrain from using it. It is now August.)

Me: “Good morning!”

(The member ignores me and gets out his wallet to find his card. After taking a few minutes to find his card, he attempts to swipe it over the duct tape.)

Me: “You can actually just scan your card over here, sir.”

(I gesture to the scanner, but the member continues to ignore me.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, but we no longer swipe the cards; we have switched to the scanner.”

(I gesture to the scanner once more and the member finally takes notice of me.)

Member: “Why can’t I swipe my card?”

Me: “We have switched over to this scanner.”

Member: “When did that happen?”

Me: “We actually switched over a couple of months ago.”

Member: “I swiped my card last week!”

(I know this is not possible, as the swipe machine no longer works and has not for months.)

Me: “Okay… Here, let me do this for you.”

(I take the card from the member, scan it, and let him into the facility.)

Coworker: “He does this every week!”

Me: “Thank you for choosing [Company]. My name is [My Name]; how can I help you?”

Customer: “I already paid you your $0.14. I am not paying another $0.14!”

Me: “Uh, I’m sorry. I can certainly look into this for you. Am I speaking with [Customer]?”

Customer: “Yes! And I already paid your d*** bill twice! Why am I paying again? You can take your $0.14 and shove it!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, I see what the problem is. Do you have your statement in front of you?”

Customer: “Yes, of course I do!”

Me: “And do you see that negative sign in front of the balance?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “And do you see the message that says, ‘No payment is required’?”

Customer: *silence*

Me: “The negative sign means you have a credit. You see, you overpaid your account by $0.07 last month, so we sent you a statement to confirm your payment. And then you paid $0.07 again, making your credit $0.14. You do not have to make another payment if your statement says so. Does that make sense?”

Customer: *quietly* “Yes.”

Me: “Great. Have I answered all of your questions?”

Customer: “Yes.”

Me: “Fantastic. Thank you for choosing [Company], and have a nice day.”

This happened in the 1990s when tokens were the main way to pay for public transit.

A friend of mine got on a bus around Thanksgiving. After he got on, a weird-looking guy carrying a huge frozen turkey got on the bus. He dropped a token in the slot ostentatiously, announcing, “This one’s for me,” and then did it again, saying, “This one’s for the turkey.” Then he sat down and put the turkey in the seat next to him.

As the bus went along its route, it started to fill up. At a certain point, there were no empty seats left. A lady went up to the guy and asked him to move his turkey so she could sit down. At that point, the guy said dramatically, “The turkey pays, the turkey stays.” The bus driver confirmed that the man had paid for the turkey’s seat, so there was nothing the lady could do about it.

Frankly, I think he was brilliant for buying a seat for his turkey — carrying a frozen, 20-pound object on your lap would not be fun!