Years ago, when I first started dating my now-husband, we were together with his kids: a five-year-old daughter and a seven-year-old son. I don’t know how this conversation got started, but we were discussing relationships boundaries. As far as “looking” went, I said that my philosophy with my significant other was, “It doesn’t matter where you get your appetite from, as long as you come home for dinner,” meaning that I can’t stop them from “looking,” but it is not something that I am insecure about. I didn’t even think about the kids being there, figuring they wouldn’t understand what I was talking about.

Wrong!

Months later, we were all in the car driving somewhere. While stopped at a light, I noticed a nice-looking guy walking by and started checking him out — not ogling or drooling, just looking — when suddenly from the back seat, his daughter screamed out, “[MY NAME], STOP CHECKING OUT THE MENU!”

I laughed so hard, then. Thirteen years later, I still kid her about it.

(I work at a small coffee shop that opens at five am. As the head baker on staff, I come in at three am to bake and decorate all the pastries and food my assistants prep the night before. There are no baristas in the building until at least four-thirty. At around four am, the phone starts to ring while I’m dipping donuts in chocolate, so I have to take a moment to wash my hands off before picking up the phone.)

Me: “Hello, this is [Store]. How may I help you?”

Customer: *literally screeching into the phone* “IT TOOK FOUR EFFING RINGS FOR YOU TO PICK UP THE PHONE!”

Me: *slightly taken aback, I don’t do much work with customers so this hasn’t happened to me before* “Well, I’m sorry, but—”

Customer: “STOP MAKING EXCUSES! HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME WAIT SO LONG?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!”

Me: “Is there something I can help you with, sir?”

Customer: “IN WHAT WORLD IS IT ACCEPTABLE FOR YOU TO DO THAT TO SOMEBODY?!”

(I am getting frustrated and want to bash my face against a wall.)

Me: “Sir, if you can’t tell me what you want, then I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to wish you a good morning and end this conversation.”

Customer: “OH, SO, NOW YOU’RE TRYING TO GET RID OF ME?!”

Me: “Yes.” *hangs up, knowing I’m about to say something super rude, otherwise*

(Not even a minute went by and I heard banging on the front door, so I peeked out the little pass-through window to the front, knowing it was too early for it to be a barista. Pounding on the glass and yelling with a very familiar voice was the man from the phone. He stood there screaming that I needed to let in paying customers, that he knew people were there, and that he demanded to be let in. I texted the store owner, who got there with the police fifteen minutes later and banned him from the property.)

(I am the customer in this story, calling the phone company to get my “new” phone number changed.)

Me: “I moved not too long ago and had this number assigned to me, but I need to change it. Whoever had this number before me must have been very popular, because I am getting multiple calls per day for them.”

Representative: “Okay. We can do that for you, but there will be a $50 fee to have your number changed.”

Me: “Um, okay, I’m not requesting this just for the fun of it, or because I don’t like my number or what the numbers add up to, or something crazy like that. Like I said, I am getting multiple calls every day for this person, and I need it changed, please.”

Representative: “I understand, but there is a charge associated with changing the number, and it is $50.”

Me: “Again, I am not doing this just for s***s and giggles. Why should I have to pay $50 because you guys stuck me with a phone number that obviously has not been out of circulation long enough for all these people to know they no longer have a valid number? Having to answer someone else’s phone calls multiple times a day is not fun, especially when the person who had this number spoke a different language. I don’t even know if the people who are calling understand what I am saying because most of them don’t understand English!”

Phone Representative: “I am sorry, but the only way we can waive the charges is if the calls were threatening or harassing.”

Me: “Trust me: the calls will get threatening and harassing if you don’t waive your stupid fee and change my number for free!“

Phone Representative: “Umm… Okay… We will change your number, free of charge, for you.”

Me: “Thank you!”

(I volunteer in the emergency room of a very large hospital. I’ve volunteered in other departments as well, so I’m quite familiar with the layout. I notice a woman wandering around looking lost, so I greet her and ask if I can help her find where she’s going.)

Patient: “Yeah, I have some questions about some medical treatment I’m going to be receiving.”

Me: “Sure. Which department do you need?”

Patient: “I’m not telling you my personal medical information!”

Me: “You don’t have to, ma’am. I only need to know the category of treatment so I know where to direct you.”

Patient: “Isn’t there some kind of central information desk?”

Me: “Yes, but you’ll have to tell them the same thing.”

Patient: “Well, my medical information is confidential. Just tell me where I can get my questions answered.”

Me: “In order to do that, I need some idea of what you’re here for.”

Patient: “This is a very disorganized hospital.” *walks away*

(I probably should have just directed her to Psych.)

(Chicken drumsticks were on sale the previous week for a dollar off per pound.)

Customer: “I’ll take ten pounds of drumsticks. These are on sale, right?”

Me: “No, sir. That was last week, sorry. This week they’re back to regular price.”

Customer: “That’s okay; just give them to me for the sale price.”

Me: “Unfortunately, I’m not able to do that, sir. The sale is over. Do you still want them?”

Customer: *waves impatiently* “Just change the price; I know you can.”

Me: “Uh, no. Actually, I can’t.”

Customer: *rolls eyes* “Just do it!”

Me: “Sir, the prices are downloaded into the scales from a central computer. I just punch in the product code. The price is what it is.”

Customer: “You can override it. Do you think I don’t know that?”

Me: “Well, that’s more than I know.”

(Even the department manager can’t override the prices, and I’m just a clerk.)

Customer: “Just do it!”

Me: “Even if I could do that, which I can’t, please explain to me why it would be worth losing my job just to save you a few dollars?”

Customer: “I know the owner.”

Me: “Oh, yes? Well, Mr. [Owner] knows a lot of people. I know him myself, and I don’t get to name my own prices in the store.” *smiling*

Customer: “Very funny. He’s a good friend of mine.”

Me: “Oh! Well, in that case, there’s no problem!”

Customer: “Aha! I knew it!”

Me: “Sure! You just call up your good friend and have him arrange a discount for you.”

Customer: “…”

Me: “You have his number, of course?”

Customer: *pause* “Just give me five pounds of drumsticks.”

Me: “Sure thing!” *bags and weighs* “That comes to [regular price]. Have a great day!”