(I’m eating breakfast in the café of a well-known supermarket chain, chatting with an extremely friendly elderly couple at the next table over who still seem to be waiting for their meals. One of the staff comes over with two jacket potatoes and I am treated to this exchange:)

Waitress: “I’m sorry, again, about having to change your order; unfortunately, we just can’t provide scrambled eggs.”

Wife: “It’s fine; don’t worry! We were happy with the breakfasts, otherwise, though… My husband just cannot eat fried eggs!”

Waitress: “I know. I’m very sorry. I couldn’t tell you the reasons, but it’s an issue of Health and Safety. We’re not allowed to poach or scramble eggs. We can only fry.”

Me: *leaning over* “But isn’t it easier to safely scramble an egg than fry one?”

Waitress: “I know; it’s just what we have to do.”

(I think [Supermarket] needs to revisit their risk assessments if their catering staff aren’t officially trusted with an egg!)

(I live in Scotland. My little sister and I are playing charades using an app on an iPad. We are playing the food category and the words come up. It is, “American _____,” so my sister decides to split the dish to make it easier. Here is how our crazy conversation goes.)

Sister: “Okay, the first word. Think of a big country.”

Me: “Russia?”

Sister: “No, no, like, think Trump.”

Me: “America?”

Sister: “Yeah! Then—”

Me: “[Sister], you’re eight! Where did you learn about Trump?!”

Sister: “I don’t know. I heard a lot of people talking about Donald Trump, the President of America. Anyway— OH, MY GOD! YOU ONLY HAVE TEN SECONDS LEFT! WHAT DO YOU CALL PEOPLE FROM AMERICA?”

Me: *panicking* “Um, um, BURGERS!”

(It is around October in 2014.)

Customer: “Do you have the new Pirates Of The Caribbean movie?”

Me: *assuming he means the fourth film, which is the latest one* “Of course. It’s right over here.” *I pick up a copy of “On Stranger Tides”*

Customer: “Nah, I mean the new one. The fifth one.”

Me: “Oh, that’s not out yet.”

Customer: “When will you have it in?”

Me: “Well, I think I heard that they’re going to be filming it next year, and that it’s due to be released in 2017.”

Customer: “But when will you have it in?”

Me: “Um… In 2017, probably.”

(We are in the middle of moving house. My mother and I — both quite small women — have been tasked with moving a heavy ottoman upstairs. We get stuck halfway up, out of strength and breath.)

Mum: “Holy s***, this is heavy.”

Me: *struggling to breathe, bearing all the weight* “I think we need help. Can we get [Brother] to help?”

(My brother is 16 years old, 6’1″, and built like a gorilla, but he’s severely autistic and epileptic. He’s recently had a seizure, and is sitting quietly in his room, unaware of what’s going on outside his little bubble. We don’t want to disturb him, but I am at serious risk of being crushed to death.)

Mum: *finally giving in* “[Brother]!”

(Obediently, my brother appears at the top of the stairs. We instruct him in what we need him to do. He grabs the other end of the ottoman and helps pull it the rest of the way, but he gets stuck at the top of the stairs. There’s a pile of my books right in front of my room, meaning he can’t go back any further without moving them.)

Brother: *looks at me expectantly*

Me: “It’s okay, [Brother]. Just kick them out the way or something.”

(Bearing in mind that I haven’t heard a word out of him all day, none of us could have predicted what happens next.)

Brother: “HIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYAAAAAAAAAAA!”

(And I kid you not, he spins around and BOOTS my books, all his weight behind the kick, sending them scattering. One book even flies into the opposite wall.)

Me & Mum: *staring*

(Then, my brother turns quietly back towards us, gives a little shrug as if nothing happened, and picks up the entire ottoman by himself as if it weighs nothing, and carries it into his room.)

Me: *still staring, in shock*

(A few seconds pass in silence.)

Mum: *quietly, to me* “Well, you did say he could kick it.”

(I am a manager in a busy call centre. We only take inbound calls, where the customer calls us to either purchase or cancel their subscription for a popular newspaper. There are physical copies and digital copies of the paper. I have just been asked to take a call from one of my staff, as the customer is refusing to talk to him anymore. The customer has been on the phone with my colleague for around 40 minutes already.)

Me: “Hi, this is [My Name]. I’m one of the managers here. My colleague has told me that you wanted to speak to me. What seems to be the problem?”

Customer: “I purchased your papers app for my iPad, and quite frankly, it was utter rubbish!”

Me: “Sorry to hear that, sir. What was the problem? Anything our tech guys can sort?”

Customer: “No, it just didn’t perform as well as I expected, so I called within the seven-day cancellation period and had my twelve-month subscription cancelled.”

Me: “So, how can I help you today?”

Customer: “Well, I went to iTunes and purchased it from there, and it’s still just as bad! I want my money back!”

Me: “Okay, sir, just let me get this straight. You bought the app, and you didn’t like it. You then bought the same app and are still not happy with it?”

Customer: “Yes. I want my money back!”

Me: “Well, as you cancelled your account with us, we don’t have your money; iTunes does.”

Customer: “What the hell do you mean? It’s your app! Give me my money!“

(This goes on for a few minutes; the customer just doesn’t get that a separate company has sold our product, and that getting his financial details from them would be fraudulent. I’m getting quite frustrated, and our offices are closing down soon, so I’ve begun to not care about blatant sarcasm.)

Me: “Look, sir: if you go into [Popular Music and DVD Store], buy a bands CD, you take it home, and discover that the CD is snapped in half, what do you do? Take it back to where you actually purchased it, or complain to the band?”

Customer: “Umm…”

Me: “Because right now, you are complaining to the band, and the band just don’t care to deal with your stupidity.”

Customer: “I WANT TO COMPLAIN TO YOUR MANAGER!”

Me: “I am the manager. Also, you don’t have an account with us, so…”

Customer: “I’M GOING TO WRITE TO FACEBOOK!”

Me: *laughing* “Okay, sir, you do that!”