(My parents and I are walking around the zoo. It’s near the end of our day there and we’re pretty tired. We’re walking around the African area and my mom asks a question.)

Mom: “Where are the sand people?”

Me: “What? Sand people?”

Mom: “Yeah, you know, the little guys that…” *mimes popping up out of the ground*

Me: “Oh! Meerkats, mom. I think you mean meerkats.” *dies laughing* “I’m calling them sand people from now on, though.”

(And yes, we did end up finding where the “sand people” were, and had a good time watching them. I won’t let her forget this, though.)

(I work as a tour guide at my university. Usually the tours run smoothly, as we are all trained to answer the ordinary questions about class sizes and sports teams. Every once in a while, however, the tours can go a bit off-script.)

Me: “And this is the pool area. We hold swimming hours for students, posted here on the door.”

Customer: *motions toward his newborn baby, then to the pool* “Golly, this looks like a great place to learn how to doggy-style!”

Me: *cheeks burning, eyes wide, trying desperately to figure out what he means*

Customer: *panicked, finally realizing his mistake* “I meant doggy paddle! You see, my son hasn’t learned… I meant doggy paddle!”

Customer’s Wife: “Oh, my God.”

(That was a tour I’ll never forget.)

(I work at a gas station, and our policy is that if a person looks under 35 we have to ID them for alcohol before we can even ring them up. A customer brings up a 24-case of beer.)

Me: “Can I see your ID, please?”

(The customer searches his pants.)

Customer: “Sorry, I must have forgot it. But you remember me.”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t, and I can’t sell it to you without ID.”

Customer: “Let me check in my car.”

(He walks out; a few minutes later he comes back.)

Customer: “I don’t have it, but come on! I am old enough!”

Me: “I am sorry, but if you look under 35, we are not allowed to sell this unless you have ID.”

Customer: “It’s because I’m white, huh? That’s why you won’t sell it to me. You have a thing against white people!”

Me: “Sir, if I did, then that would mean that I hated my family, who—”

Customer: “No, no, no, it’s all white people you hate.”

(Walking outside, I see him stop a young white couple who are my regulars. They come in laughing.)

Young Couple: “Wow, that guy out there is nuts. Did you know he is telling everyone who will listen that you are a racist and that you hate white people?”

Me: *shaking my head* “Yep, that’s me! I hate white people. I hate myself, my mom, and my sister.”

(We had a good laugh at that.)

(I’m with my coworker at the counter as he’s ringing up an older man.)

Coworker: “All right, thank you. Have a nice day!”

Customer: “Before I go, have this.” *hands my coworker a small pamphlet* “It’s proof the Bible exists.”

Coworker: “Uh, thanks.”

Customer: “Have a blessed day.”

Coworker: “Uh, you, too.”

(My coworker told our manager the story later that day and her response was, “Well, the Bible does EXIST; we sell it on our shelves, too.”)

(Because my family is Native American, during the State Fair we spend most of our time in the Indian Village. It’s very common for parents and grandparents to simply stay and rest in the village while children form groups together and go off on their own to enjoy the fair, coming back every so often to check in and rest. My family does so this year, and during one of our stops, sitting with friends and family outside one of the replica longhouses on a bench, we hear these two gems.)

Native Man: *over microphone* “And you guys can check out one of our longhouses here in the village. Longhouses have stopped being used since the late 17th century, though some of us still live in them… only now, they’re made out of metal, and we call them trailers.”

(Cue several people around us laughing hysterically. A while later, a slightly drunk couple approaches the longhouse my group is sitting at.)

Woman: *very excited* “Oh, my God! This is a real life longhouse! People used to live here! Can you believe this?!”

Man: *a lot calmer* “Ah, yes, the very first casino.”

(They walk into the replica, leaving my group to look at each other and burst into giggles.)