(I used to work for an electricity company’s call centre. I now work in an office, and I overhear this conversation. My coworker is not the nicest or brightest person in the world.)

Coworker: “I have a bill here that says, ‘final bill.’ I need to know if this bill is a final bill. No, I won’t tell you my account number! Tell me if it’s a final bill! I don’t care if you can’t see the account!”

(This goes on for a few minutes until she’s speaking in an utterly condescending tone.)

Coworker: “I know it says, ‘final bill,’ on it. I need to know if that means it’s a final bill. Derrrr!”

(The poor soul on the other end finally convinces her that yes, “final bill” means, “final bill.”)

Coworker: *muttering to herself* “How stupid are some people? How hard is it to tell me if a final bill is a final bill? That’s all I needed to know! Morons!”

(I’m so thankful I don’t work in an electricity call centre anymore. This, unfortunately, is a typical call.)

(I teach grades four and five. On this occasion, I’m talking to them about what’s coming up the next day. Our art lessons this term have been about art through history: cave paintings, Egyptian hieroglyphics, etc. Next up is a project on ancient Roman mosaics, but they don’t know that yet. There is also a boy in the class named Roman.)

Me: “Tomorrow should be a pretty awesome day. We have science first thing, and then we’ll be doing some art until recess. I’m really excited about this project; it’ll take a while, but you’re going to end up with something pretty cool.”

Student #1: “What are we going to be doing?”

Me: “It’s a surprise; you’ll find out tomorrow.”

Student #2: “Can you give us a hint?”

Me: “Oh, all right. Well, given that we’ve been studying historical art, your hint is… Roman…” *emphasizes the child’s name and says it slowly* “…might really enjoy this one.”

Students: *silence*

(They didn’t get it! I had to repeat his name twice more before someone went, “Oh, ROME!” They’re a great class, but they’re not always quick on the uptake.)

(I work in the kid’s section of a bookstore. A scenario like this happens about once a month, except in summer when it happens at least every week. A parent and child enter the section:)

Parent: *upbeat and cheery* “Now, [Child], you go ahead and pick any book you want to read, and I’ll buy it for you!”

Child: “Awesome!”

(The child inevitably goes straight to our section on Lego, Star Wars, Minecraft, etc. They pick out the biggest, beefiest book they can find, which often comes with a toy.)

Child: “I want this one.”

Parent: *disapprovingly* “No, not that one.”

Child: “But I want it!”

Parent: “No! That one’s full of junk. Pick something else; I’m not buying you that.”

Child: *picks up another book in the same section* “This one looks awesome!”

Parent: “Ugh, no, that’s another junk book. It’s not going to teach you anything, and you’re just buying it for the toy. I’m not getting you that.”

(The child is confused and upset. The parent stalks over to the novel section, browses for a few minutes, and calls their child over.)

Parent: “Pick something from here. These are good books.”

Child: “But I don’t want any of these books; I want one of the other ones!”

Parent: *snapping* “NO! Absolutely not. You’re getting something from here, or we’re leaving without anything at all.”

(It’s at this point that the parent will often bring me over and ask me what books their child would like. I try to get information from the kid — do they like fantasy, adventure, real-life, animal stories, etc.? — but it’s a lost cause. The child is so upset from getting yelled at, and so let down from not getting the book they originally chose, that 80% of the time everyone leaves empty-handed and grumpy. Parents, set clear expectations for your kids! Don’t promise them any book in the store if what you really mean is a serious chapter book. Don’t get angry at them because you weren’t specific enough in the first place!)

(I’m working on a register. It’s been a slow day and as a result, there’s no one at my register. [Customer #1], an elderly woman with a trolley full of groceries, approaches my register. Seeing that there is no queue, she decides to push her trolley right up to my register and starts unloading her groceries at the front of the belt, rather than unloading them at the end of the belt and letting the belt carry them up to me. This is perfectly fine and not at all uncommon for customers to do when there’s no line. I begin ringing up her groceries and we start chatting. As we do, [Customer #2], an old man, pushes his trolley to the end of the belt and begins unloading his stuff, while [Customer #1] is still trying to unload her stuff at the front. Fairly quickly, [Customer #2]’s stuff begins encroaching on [Customer #1]’s stuff.)

Customer #1: “Excuse me. Sorry, I’m still unloading my stuff. Could you just wait a moment? Thanks.”

Customer #2: “Oh, yeah, sure.”

([Customer #2] just stands there for a second, before continuing to unload his groceries onto the belt as if nothing had happened.)

Customer #1: *pushing [Customer #2]’s stuff back a bit to clear more room for herself* “Um, excuse me. Could you just wait a moment? I need more room to finish unloading my stuff.”

Customer #2: “Huh? Oh, all right.”

([Customer #2] just continues to unload his groceries. Now [Customer #1] is getting really fed up. She stretches her arms across the belt and shoves all of [Customer #2]’s stuff back into his trolley.)

Customer #1: “WOULD YOU STOP ALREADY?!”

([Customer #2] suddenly shoots up as if he’s just woken up from a dream and is aware of his surroundings for the first time. He gets that look on his face that a four-year-old gets when they’ve been told off. He finally stops unloading his trolley, and waits for [Customer #1] to finish.)

Customer #1: “Some people.”

(I finished helping [Customer #1], and began serving [Customer #2], who never spoke and just awkwardly stared at the floor the whole time.)

(There are two customers at my register. I’m currently serving [Customer #1], while [Customer #2] has just finished unloading her groceries onto the belt, ready to be served next.)

Customer #2: “Sorry, I just forgot to get something. Do you mind if I quickly run and grab it?”

Me: “Sure, no problem.”

Customer #2: “Thanks.”

([Customer #2] leaves her groceries on the belt and races back down an aisle to find what she wants. This is a fairly regular occurrence, so I think nothing of it. Shortly after she has left, though, [Customer #3] arrives and starts unloading her groceries onto the belt behind [Customer #2]’s stuff. As she does, I finish serving [Customer #1]. Then, although she is not back yet, I start scanning through [Customer #2]’s groceries.)

Customer #3: “Um, excuse me. Those aren’t mine.”

Me: “I know. They’re—“

Customer #3: *sounding very panicked* “No, really, they’re not mine. I didn’t put them there. I have no idea where they came from.”

Me: “Yes, I know.”

Customer: *sounding even more panicked* “I really don’t know how they got there, honestly. I didn’t put them there. They’re not mine. Please. I don’t want them.”

(At that moment, [Customer #2] returned to claim her groceries. A look of relief instantly washed over [Customer #3] as she finally understood where those groceries came from. But for a moment there, it honestly sounded like she thought I was going to force her to buy these groceries that had magically appeared out of nowhere. Customers are weird.)