([Coworker #1] is a Christian fellow who is always quiet and not at all into popular music. Our group is working on a technical problem. We need to establish the baseline signal for something and the lower we can get it, the better.)

Coworker #1: *after some thought, musing out loud* “So, really, it’s all about the baseline.”

([Coworker #2] and I start to crack up.)

Coworker #1: *embarrassed, and without meaning to escalate* “No; what I mean is, how low can we go?”

([Coworker #2] and I break out laughing.)

(I and my two friends go out to eat after work. [Friend #1] was born in Peru, but was adopted as an infant by her white mother and as such, has no connection to South American culture. This means she has a very low tolerance for spicy food. We are eating, and [Friend #1] realizes she just ate a jalapeño accidentally. We flag down our server to ask for some water.)

Server: *with three glasses of water* “Wait, why do you need water?”

Friend #2: “Please, she just had too much spice.”

Server: *while still holding the water away from the table* “But, she doesn’t need water. Why do you need water? Aren’t you Spanish or something?”

Me: “Please, just give her the water. She is not Spanish, and that doesn’t matter anyway.”

Server: “But I don’t get it; why can’t she eat spicy stuff?”

(We looked at each other and glared at her until she gave our friend her water.)

(I’m a cashier. An older lady comes up with her grown son, looking for construction sand. The son explains that there are only two bags left in the bay where the sand is kept, and they need eight. I radio the back and the backlot staff tell me they need about ten minutes to bring more over with a forklift. Ten minutes go by, and the pallet still has not arrived. The mother checks back with me and I give the back a call. They tell me the forklift was in use and they are waiting for it. I tell the customers it will be a bit longer. Another ten minutes pass, and the mother is getting visibly annoyed and muttering under her breath.)

Mother: “I can’t believe it’s taking this long. We should have been out of here ten minutes ago. What kind of customer service is this?”

Son: “Mum, weren’t you just saying today that you want to make sure you don’t develop bad habits as you get older? This is how you end up as an angry old lady shouting at cashiers because your coupon is expired.”

(The mother shut up and waited patiently for the sand to arrive. The son flashed me a knowing smile as he paid. I get the feeling he’s worked retail before.)

(A customer enters our store. She has been here before on multiple occasions to inquire about phones and plans. She doesn’t have an account with our company yet.)

Customer: “Hi, I have come back to try to purchase a phone and plan, once again.”

Me: “Okay, what kind of phone were you looking to get?”

Customer: “I don’t know. The [Brand] one that’s easy to use.”

(We sell a lot of the mini-version of a particular phone, as starter smartphones for the older customers.)

Me: “The [Starter Phone]? Sure, what did you need in your plan?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Okay, well, do you talk a lot on your phone?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

Me: “Well, how much do you think you talk on the phone? On average.”

Customer: “I don’t know! How would I know?! You tell me how much I talk on the phone!”

Me: “I have no way of knowing how much you talk on your phone, as I am not you.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t know how much I talk.”

Me: “Well, do you text or need access to internet?”

Customer: “I don’t know.”

(At this point, I’m just fed up and I give her two options for plans and ask her which one she thinks would suit her needs better.)

Customer: “This is too difficult! I just wanted to come in, get a phone with a plan and that’s it. You are giving me too many options! Just forget it” *stomps out in a huff*

(At my school, there is a storm drain in the middle of the playground. Nobody thinks much of it until we hear someone yell.)

Kid: “HEY, THERE’S A POKÉMON CARD IN THERE!”

(Everyone rushes over and looks down. Sure enough, there is a Pokémon card lying face down at the bottom of the storm drain. Every day, for about a month, everyone tries to open the cover or stick things through to try to get the card, but to no avail. One day, everyone is called by the principal into the auditorium for a surprise assembly.)

Principal: “Today I want to talk to you about safety. I have noticed for a while now that everyone seems to be crowding around the storm drain at recess. That is very unsafe, and there is no reason why anyone should try to mess with the cover… because I got the Pokémon card.” *he pulls a worn, crumpled up Pokémon card from his back pocket* “As you can see, it’s just a Pidgey, nothing special.”

(Thinking that this was just a way to get us to stay away from the storm drain, we still looked in to check at recess. The Pokémon card was gone.)