I used to work overnight “graveyard” shifts at a popular Canadian hardware/automotive/everything else store. Because of the hours I worked, chatting with the other staff was pretty much the closest I came to having a social life. As such, I would usually show up somewhat early for my shift to catch up and socialize.

One particular evening, I’m hanging out near customer service, and notice that they seem rather harried. A customer is waiting at the customer service desk, and it turns out he’s there to pick up a go-kart that he’d ordered and had been phoned and told had arrived.

It transpired that he’d been there waiting for some time (quite patiently!), while both of the young women working in customer service were searching for his go-kart.

This particular store had a “hold” room behind customer service, where 95% of customer orders were put when they came in. The remaining 5% ended up being left in the warehouse at the back of the store. (No real rhyme or reason, I guess some warehouse staff couldn’t be bothered to bring those items up to the front.)

When I started paying attention, one of the customer service women had just come back from checking the hold room for the second time. The other one had checked the hold room once and had also searched the warehouse. They were just in the process of explaining to the customer that he must have been phoned in error, when I stepped in and offered to have a quicker search. It’s a go-kart: it can’t be that hard to find, right?

I headed to the hold room and quickly found the go-kart. It turned out that, being a large item (this was a fully rideable one, not a little remote control), it was, surprise, surprise, in a large box. This box was lying across the doorway, literally blocking the access to the rest of the hold room.

Between them, the customer service women had CLIMBED OVER the go-kart six times (three in, three out), without being able to find it.

I hauled it out to the very happy customer, and took my opinion of our customer service staff down a level.

I have a bit of a medical background and am always asked questions on first aid and such. My husband is having a weird conversation on the phone with his mom, and turns to ask me mid-conversation.

Husband: “What is the name of that disease that makes you old before your time?”

Me: “Parenthood?”

Husband: *Laughs.* “You deserve a kiss for that!”

I’m attending film school. One of my classmates is the kind of guy who feels like he’s special because he’s obsessed with movies, which is not exactly rare in film students, and also thinks he’s smarter and more talented than everyone else in the room. He complains about having to sit around listening to our instructors and “wasting time” learning the basics, which he claims he already knows. In particular, Know-It-All Guy is annoyed by the screenwriting classes we have to take.

We also have another classmate who’s a bit older than most of the cohort. She seems like a perfectly nice person to me, but Know-It-All Guy absolutely can’t stand her for some reason. He somehow finds out that [Older Classmate] is excused from the writing classes, and one day he goes to our writing teacher after class to complain. I’m still in the room when he’s building up a head of steam.

Know-It-All Guy: “…And I’m just saying, I don’t understand why I have to take this class.”

Teacher: *Sigh.* “Everybody has to take the class.”

Know-It-All Guy: “[Older Classmate] doesn’t!”

Teacher: “Wait, who doesn’t?”

Know-It-All Guy: “[Older Classmate]! [Older Classmate] [Last Name]!”

Teacher: “Wait, that name sounds familiar…”

He looks something up on his phone and then shows a Facebook page to Know-It-All Guy.

Teacher: “This [Older Classmate]?”

Know-It-All Guy: “Um…yes. Wait, you know her?”

Teacher: “Yes! We went to university together. Wild, what a coincidence.”

Know-It-All Guy: “Wait, seriously?”

Teacher: “Oh yes. We took the same workshops. I remember she was really good, very talented.”

Know-It-All Guy: “Workshops?”

Teacher: “Yeah. For writing. You know I have a writing degree, right? So does she. That’s probably why they waived the requirement for her.” *He chuckles.* “Actually, she could probably teach this class. Maybe if you’re nice to her, she’ll give you some feedback on your scripts. Anyway, if that’s all, I have to go…”

The teacher heads out the door, leaving [Know-It-All Guy] looking like he’d just been hit over the head.

I live in a large house with a lot of roommates. In the kitchen, there’s a sort of built-in desk sticking out of the wall, basically just a convenient place to put a landline phone and the incoming mail.

One day, I came in and noticed one of the wooden kitchen chairs had been pulled up to the desk. I pulled the chair back to the kitchen table and sat down – and the chair collapsed under me, luckily not fast enough to hurt. I picked it up and noticed that the joints had come apart. I finished disassembling it, threw it in the trash, and sent a text to the landlord letting him know we were minus one kitchen chair. (There were several others, and it had almost certainly been bought at a garage sale in the first place – hardly a great loss.)

One of my roommates is very particular about certain things. This would be fine, except a lot of those things are not very common-sensical or, in my opinion, connected to human Earth logic. A day or so later, this roommate confronts me, apparently furious.

Roommate: “Did you throw out that chair?!”

Me: “Yes…?”

Roommate: “Why?!”

Me: “It was broken.”

Roommate: “No, it wasn’t!”

Me: “Yes, it was. If it hadn’t been broken, it wouldn’t have fallen apart when I sat on it.”

Roommate: “Why would you sit on it? You weren’t supposed to sit on it!”

Me: “Uh…what?”

Roommate: “I noticed it was starting to fall apart a little, so I pushed the legs back into the joints and pulled it over to the desk. It wouldn’t have broken if you had left it alone!”

Me: “So you decided to keep a chair that no one can sit on for what, decoration?”

Roommate: “No, it could have been fixed!”

Me: “So why didn’t you fix it? Or at least leave it obviously broken instead of making it look like it was okay to use? What if [Roommate A] or [Roommate B] had sat on it? They’re twice my size; they would have gone crashing to the floor and maybe gotten hurt!”

Roommate: “Well, you still should have asked before you threw it out.”

Elderly Customer: *Cheerfully.* “Hello, dear! having a nice day?’

Me: “Yeah, not too bad. How about you?”

Elderly Customer: *Still very pleasant.* “Can’t complain!”

Me: *Finishes ringing him up.* “Your total is [under $5].”

Elderly Customer: *Searches through his pockets.* “Wait a minute, honey, I forgot my wallet in the car.”

The store isn’t busy at all, so I hold his purchase and wait for him to return. He walks out the door and stands in the middle of the empty parking lot. I have nothing else to do, so I watch him from the window.

The customer looks up at the sky, and for a solid few seconds, lets out a BLOODCURDLING SCREAM at the top of his lungs.

I look out the window, shocked and incredibly confused, as he gets his wallet from his car and walks back through the doors as if nothing happened.

Elderly Customer: *Once again, completely cheerful, pays for his purchase.* “Now you keep having a wonderful day, sugar!”