(At my office, we recently had an unauthorized person get into a secure area, because somebody held the door open for them. As a result, we’ve been getting a series of emails and training videos about building security, and one thing that has been pounded into us in all of this is that EVERYONE has to scan a badge at a controlled entrance, every time, no exceptions, and if we see somebody follow an employee in without badging through, we need to alert security immediately. A week or two after that, I’m walking up to a secured exterior door after lunch, where a coworker who I do not know is just coming out.)

Coworker: *holds the door open for me, standing directly in front of the card reader*

Me: “Sorry, I need to scan in.”

Coworker: *doesn’t move*

Me: “EXCUSE ME. I need to get to the card reader.”

Coworker: “Huh! Well, I was just trying to be polite!”

Me: “…I know you were…”

(If I’d been an intruder, I could’ve just walked right in without a word!)

(I have just gotten a job at a sword shop in the local renaissance fair. This fair is open most of the summer, but the owner of the shop also sells at two other fairs. It’s the end of the day, and I’m just learning how to close out my register.)

Owner: “Next, you compare the total cash in the drawer to what the computer says it should be.”

Me: “They’re the same.”

Owner: “They’re supposed to be the same, but there’s a glitch in the software somewhere that I haven’t been able to fix. How far off is yours?”

Me: “No, they’re the same.” *I point to the numbers and show him that my totals match, right down to the penny*

Owner: “That’s weird. At my other locations they’re usually off by a couple hundred dollars. I wonder if the software company finally got it fixed? I guess we’ll know tomorrow.”

(My totals were never off by more than five cents. Mine was the ONLY register that was always spot-on. After a few rounds of this, he figured out why, and fired the cashiers at his other shops for stealing.)

(For a few years now, several doctors have suspected that I have some form of an autoimmune disease, as I’ve had problems with excessive bleeding and joint pains most of my life. I’ve just been to a specialist, who, based on the limited information I had about my family’s medical history, concluded that the odds of me having a genetic disease are limited. I’m at my GP’s office, with a list from my mother. My mother and I have the same GP, and I’ve been seeing her my whole life.)

GP: “I know you mother has [Condition #1], and you’re saying her sister has it as well?”

Me: “Yes, and another one of her sisters has [Condition #2]. Then I have a cousin with [more severe Condition #1], and another cousin with [more severe Condition #2]. My grandmother had [Condition #3], which her mother died of.”

GP: “Luckily, no one dies from [Condition #3] today. Is your grandmother still alive?”

Me: “No, but she died of old age and stubbornness.”

GP: *chuckling* “Right. And this is all on your mother’s side?”

Me: “Yes.”

GP: *reading through the list again* “Well, I’ll send the information to [Specialist] and we’ll see if that’ll change her diagnosis.” *somewhat jokingly* “Let’s hope you get most of your genes from your father’s side.”

Me: “Really? Because Dad has epilepsy, his sister had breast cancer, they both have diabetes, and Grandpa thinks he’s back in the 1950s.”

(It’s a busy weekend for tourists in the city, so I’ve already been thoroughly annoyed with taking the subway as I try to get home from a simple trip to the nearby grocery store. Normally, tourists don’t take my local bus line, so I’m a bit surprised when I run up to the bus and find a tourist arguing with the bus driver. I really have no idea what her gripe is, but she’s blocking the door as I attempt to board. The bus driver is trying to get her to take a seat or get off the bus, from what I can gather.)

Me: “Ma’am, can you step aside so I can board the bus?”

Tourist: *to the bus driver* “But I already paid. Can’t you refund me?”

Bus Driver: “I’ve already told you that you can take any bus for the next two hours with that transfer I gave you. I’m sorry you got confused, but just hand the driver of the right bus that transfer and you can get on for free.”

Tourist: “But why can’t you just refund my fare? What if the bus I need doesn’t come for two hours?”

Bus Driver: “I don’t know how to say this any more clearly. It’s not going to be a two hour wait for the right bus. At most it might be 20 minutes, and you can use that transfer to get on without paying another fare. I cannot refund you, but you can ride any bus for free for the next two hours with that transfer. Can you please step aside and let the passengers behind you board?”

Tourist: “I paid for this ride, and I’m going to take it.” *stomps into the narrow passageway between the door and the seats, and I can finally board, but I can’t get very far with her blocking the passageway to the seats*

Me: *swipes my transit pass, turns towards the passenger area* “Ma’am, I have my grocery cart with me. Can you please move into the passenger area so that I can get by?”

(The tourist ignores me, and I am MORE than fed up with her childish behavior and unwillingness to listen and move, so I squeeze past her and run my full (and fairly heavy) grocery cart over her feet.)

Tourist: “OW! B****! Why did you do that?”

Me: “I asked you to move twice and the driver asked you to move even more times. Move or be moved, I guess. I can’t stand in the entry way. That’s ILLEGAL.”

Tourist: “This town and all its people are horrible! Let me off this bus right now! I’ll walk 20 miles to where I’m going if I have to. I’m not putting up with this mistreatment any more! I will NEVER come back to this city!”

Bus Driver: “I will GLADLY let you off at my next stop, three blocks up the street, if you just push that button requesting a stop.”

(The tourist continues to rant and rave, but doesn’t push the button to request a stop, nor does she move out of the passage to/from the entry way. I’m the next person to request a stop, almost a mile up the road. The bus pulls over for my stop.)

Tourist: “WHERE THE H*** AM I? WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP IN THREE BLOCKS LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD? HOW DO I GET WHERE I’M SUPPOSED TO BE?”

Me: *rolls my grocery cart over her feet again* “I guess you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself, since you wouldn’t listen to the driver when he tried to help you the first time.”

(She didn’t get off the bus at that stop, so who KNOWS where she ultimately ended up — the bus line terminated deep in the suburbs. Hopefully she DOESN’T come back!)

(My history teacher senior year has been funny and easy-going all year. It’s two months until graduation, and he is starting to get tired of the “senioritis” going around.)

Teacher: “From now on, if I see a cell phone out, I am collecting it in this box. And once a week, I will choose one cell phone out of the box and smash it against the wall!”

(About a week goes by as normal. Then, one day, in the middle of watching a movie, the teacher turns it off.)

Teacher: “I have had enough of this! I have told, and told, and told this class. I am sick of telling this class that I do not want to see your phones out. I’m done.” *picks up the box from his desk* “Phones. In this box. Now.”

(He goes around the room, and everyone who has their phone out puts it in the box.)

Teacher: *getting back to his desk* “Are you finding this funny? Would you find it even funnier if I just dumped these in the garbage can?” *picks up a phone and holds it over the garbage can* “Would that just make your day?”

Student #1: “You won’t do it!”

Teacher: “Won’t I?”

Student #2: “You won’t do it!”

Teacher: “I could just take these and start throwing them in here. Would that be funny to you?”

Student #1: “Well, you’re not going to do it, so…”

(Instead of dropping the phone, the teacher spins around and flings it at the wall. It breaks and falls to the floor in pieces.)

Teacher: “Was that funny?”

Student #1: “Dude, that was my phone!”

Teacher: “Did you find that amusing?”

Student #1: “You broke my phone, you a**hole!”

Teacher: “Get out! Get out of this classroom, now! Just get out of my sight!”

Student #1: “I don’t want to be here, anyway!”

(He runs out of the room and slams the door. Everything is completely silent for a moment.)

Teacher: “[Student #3], would you come here a minute?”

Student #3: *does so, looking confused because he’s been cooperative this whole time*

Teacher: “Remember back in September when I told you I could get you to believe something completely unbelievable?”

(By now the teacher was grinning like a fool. The student who left came back into the room, also grinning. He was in on it, as was another student who brought in an old cell phone for use in the prank. After explaining this, the teacher didn’t go back to teaching, but let us talk for the rest of the class. I guess he was having some “end of year fever,” too!)