(A long-time friend of mine expresses his more-than-friendly ideas about us. The following conversation ensues:)

Me: “You know I’m married, and I don’t think of you like that.”

Friend: “Why?”

Me: “I’m married to [Husband]; I love him. I don’t want anyone else.”

Friend: “But why?”

Me: “I just told you.”

Friend: “That’s not an answer.”

Me: “Just because you don’t like what I’ve said, that doesn’t make it ‘not an answer.’”

Friend: “But we’ve been friends for years!”

Me: “Just friends.”

Friend: “So why not more?”

Me: “I. SAID. NO. If you can’t handle the fact that I don’t want to f*** you, then you can f*** off.”

Friend: “You don’t have to be a b**** about it.”

Me: “It seems I do.”

Friend: “Your loss!”

(He went on to post several updates about how “nice guys finish last,” the dreaded friend zone, and quotes about girls not knowing how to handle a decent guy when he comes along. A few of his friends commented, saying he was a good guy and that the girl in question would come to her senses too late. He commented back, calling the girl blind, slutty, and stupid. I took a screenshot of our conversation and posted it, adding the comment, “Which part of this makes me a blind, stupid slut? And if I am such a slut, wouldn’t I have said yes?” He promptly deleted it and blocked me. What a good guy, huh?)

(I am working the fitting room at a large store when a customer comes up to me. He has a thick accent, so I’m not exactly sure what he’s saying at first. He shows me some fabric that he had cut and the ticket that was printed off with a barcode to go with it.)

Customer: “It’s too much.”

Me: *looking at the ticket* “That’s the price for that many yards.”

Customer: “One yard!”

Me: “Yes, sir, I see that you got ten yards, and that is the price per yard.”

Customer: “One yard!”

(This repeats a couple of times until I figure out what exactly he is saying.)

Me: “Oh, you only got one yard?”

Customer: “Yes, only one yard.”

Me: “I see what happened. They accidentally typed in ten yards instead of one yard. If you go back to the fabric table, he can make you up a new ticket.”

Customer: “It’s too much! I only got one yard! Can’t you make me up a new ticket here?”

Me: “I’m sorry; I can’t do it here. Just go back to the fabric table and have them print you up a new ticket.” *into my walkie* “Can I get customer assistance to the fabric table?”

Associate #1: *over the walkie* “I’m here right now.”

Me: *to customer* “Okay, he can make you up a new ticket.”

Customer: “Can’t I just take it up like this to the register?”

Me: “If you do, you’ll be charged for ten yards. If you just go back to the fabric table, he can print you up a new ticket.”

(The customer slams it down on the cart I have at the fitting room.)

Customer: “I don’t want it!”

(The customer then storms away.)

Associate #2: *standing next to me the whole time* “Well, that was rude.”

(My son and I go out for lunch to a fast food restaurant. You order at the counter but they bring out your food to your table for you.)

Me: “Can we please get two of the chicken sandwiches, two cups of vegetable soup, and just two waters, please?”

Cashier: “Of course. The water glasses are on the side of the soda fountains. That’ll be [price].”

(After paying we walk over to the soda machines, where we see the water glasses. I grab two and fill them both with water, and I get ready to walk to a table when a woman probably old enough to be my mother stops me.)

Woman: “You know, I always just ask for the water glasses and but fill them up with soda. I do it all of the time. I don’t know why you’re actually getting water; it’s just smarter to not pay for your drinks.”

Me: *shocked a stranger is telling me this* “Well, I agree with you on one fact; it is smarter to not pay for drinks. So we drink water, which is free. You, however, are scamming the system, and it may not seem like much to you, but it’s dishonest and wrong. I’m trying to set a good example for my son.”

Woman: “Well, I think I’m old enough to be your mother, young lady. That means I’m your elder, which means what I say is right! I’m not paying for overpriced syrup and water, so what I’m doing is saving money.”

Me: “No, what you’re doing is making this restaurant lose money, which will jack up prices for everyone. I respect my elders when they deserve it. Have a good day, ma’am.”

(As we walk away, my son turns around and actually wags his finger at her, and says:)

Son: “If you’re old enough to be my mama’s mama, then you’re old enough to be my grandma. And you should be ashamed of yourself!”

(I was a proud mama.)

(I am working at the help desk. I sit next to a gentleman who speaks three languages fluently. He has a slight accent, but no one in the office has ever had any problem understanding him. I take a call from a customer who, after hearing my rather generic, north-east accent says:)

Customer: “Oh, thank God! Finally, someone from the US! Maybe you can help me.”

(Quickly, I check the account history and find out that they were on a call with my coworker just a few minutes earlier. I review the information we have.)

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s nothing else we can do. And for the record? You spoke with [Coworker], who sits right next to me here in Pennsylvania.”

(There was some sputtering involved, and the call was “disconnected” on her end.  Never assume that just because someone has an accent that they are overseas somewhere, or that someone without an accent can help you better. My coworker was ten times more knowledgeable about the issue than the caller was!)

My wife is a preschool teacher. While attending a seminar, she heard this story from a lecturer:

“We used to use macaroni glued to paper for art projects. One day I noticed my aide digging through the garbage for macaroni. She explained that she would soak it off the paper to feed her family, as she was on a tight budget. I felt bad that we were using food for art while others went hungry. So, we no longer use any foodstuffs in our art.”

The lecturer seemed very proud of herself, and never saw the irony.