(My boss’s daughter sometimes comes in to chat. She is into fashion and works at a jewelry store, while I’m more technical and interested in science.)

Boss’s Daughter: “So, you’ll like this because it’s all science-y. I went to a specialist to find out if I have any allergies or intolerances to food, because sometimes I just don’t feel great after eating something.”

Me: “Really? I’ve got some seasonal allergies and I’ve been meaning to get a skin test done to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

Boss’s Daughter: “I’ll give you the contact info. But the way they figured it out was way cooler than a skin test. So, they ask you to wear loose clothing so that they can access a patch of skin on your shoulder, and they blindfold you. She’ll put a piece of fruit or vegetable against your shoulder and ask you to make an ‘okay’ symbol with your hand. While the piece of produce is on your skin, she’ll try to break the circle you make with your fingers. If she can, it means that you have a sensitivity.”

Me: “That… isn’t really scientific at all.”

Boss’s Daughter: “I don’t know, it sounds like they have a whole method and all that.”

Me: “That would be the scientific method, and no, it isn’t.”

(It is a Tuesday, the morning of the terror attack at the Brussels airport and metro system. A customer, who has a next-day air shipping label for a piece of artwork going to Brussels, calls our center. The store owner takes the call.)

Customer: “Will my package still get there tomorrow? Even with the terror attacks that happened? All the bombings?”

Store Owner: “Probably not, seeing as it’s going to the Brussels airport, which is closed right now.”

Customer: “But I have a next-day air label! I need it to get there! My client paid specifically for next-day shipping!”

Store Owner: “I’m sure your client will understand. There is no possible way for this to get there by tomorrow.”

Customer: “You’re not understanding me! This needs to get there tomorrow!“

Store Owner: “You’re not understanding. You know there was a terrorist attack there just hours ago, and I know that you know that because that’s what you started this conversation with. Their airport is closed. I can’t go open the airport, and with the attacks there this morning, I wouldn’t even if I could!”

Customer: *long pause* “Could it get there by the end of the week? Say… Friday?”

Store Owner: “If the airport has reopened by then, we could send it out for you. I can’t — and won’t — promise you that it will get there by Friday right now.”

Customer: “This is the worst experience I’ve ever had. I need you to get this to my client by Friday, and I want my money back for shipping!”

(The store owner wound up giving her the shipping company’s customer service number and told her to call them because he was getting nowhere with her.)

(I’m talking to a customer about hamsters. We are standing in front of the hamster cages, going over basic care when a young girl — seven or eight at the oldest — comes up.)

Girl: “Excuse me.”

Me: “Yes?”

Girl: “Where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “Real hamsters?”

Girl: “Yeah, where are the real hamsters?”

Me: “They’re right here!” *smiles and gestures to cages in front of me with hamsters in them*

Girl: “That’s going to be my class pet!? I knew we should’ve gotten a fish!” *looks horrified, then runs away*

(I couldn’t tell if the customers I’d been helping were laughing at the girl, or my facial expression.)

(My two-year-old’s hair has gotten a bit long, so I decide to trim it. I have him sitting on my lap, and just as I start to trim his hair, my phone goes off. It’s a Skype call, and he knows that my phone only makes that particular sound when his dad is calling, so he excitedly bounces right as I close the scissors. I sigh as I answer the video call and give my son the phone.)

Son: “Dada! Hi!”

Husband: “Hey there, son!”

(My son starts jabbering away at my husband, then suddenly he reaches up and grabs the back of his head and his eyes go wide.)

Son: *patting the back of his head* “Oh, gosh! Oh, gosh!”

Husband: *to me* “What’s wrong? Why’s he grabbing his head like that?”

Me: “Well, he moved right as I went to trim his hair, and I wound up cutting it way shorter than I meant to. He just realized how much hair I chopped off back there.”

Husband: *laughs* “Did she gap your hair, buddy?”

Son: *nods* “Yeah!” *pats back of his head again then looks at me* “Gosh!”

Me: *rolls eyes* “Well, sir, when you finish your conversation with Dada, I will get the clippers out and cut your hair so that it’s all short.”

(My son sits quietly a moment as if he’s contemplating what I’ve said, then nods.)

Son: “You do it.”

Husband: *laughs* “I wonder how well that’s going to go over?”

(For the rest of the twenty minute call, he occasionally reached up to touch the back of his head and say, “Oh, gosh!” When we had finished the call, my son sat completely still for most of his hair cut. The only time he moved was to occasionally wipe the hair off his face and the back of his neck before I could do it. I am so glad he didn’t cry or throw a fit like some children his age do.)

(I’m at a dollar store to order some balloons for a party next week. I stand by the balloon ordering area and wait for someone to come and help me. The manager keeps glaring at me and continuing her conversation with a friend, to the point that I am uncomfortable and wondering why she’s so angry with me. After five minutes, she figures out that I’m not leaving, and stomps over to me.)

Me: “I’d like to order some balloons, please.”

Manager: *practically yelling at me* “How many?!”

Me: “Five.”

(She gets an angry look and starts ranting at me.)

Manager: “If you need more than three balloons, you have to give advance notice! I can’t just stop and—”

Me: *interrupting* “I don’t need them until next week.”

(Her demeanor completely changes, and is all smiles.)

Manager: “Of course! Thank you so much for giving notice; no one does that. I just had someone come in trying to get 30 balloons filled, and I don’t have time for that!”

(She gestured around at the store, which was empty except for one cashier checking out one customer. The whole time I was ordering balloons, she complained about how unreasonable other customers are. I get that customers are rude when they get refused, but maybe don’t start out by being openly hostile to anyone ordering balloons?)