(This customer is on his phone.)

Me: “Do you have a rewards card with us?”

Customer: *gives number*

Me: “I’m sorry, that number isn’t coming up; is there another I could try?”

Customer: *gives another number*

Me: “I’m sorry, that number isn’t coming up, either.”

Customer: *gets off phone* “What?!”

Me: “Neither of those numbers are coming up in our system.”

Customer: “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?! I’ve been coming here for 15 years!”

Me: *tries numbers again* “Sir, I’m sorry, but those still aren’t coming up.”

Customer: “Are you checking to see if I have an account?”

Me: “A rewards card, yes.”

Customer: “I don’t have one. I was on the phone, so I didn’t know what you were saying.”

Once while out shopping, my husband saw a terrible child and quietly slipped our kids each a quarter “for not being that kid.” It became a family “thing.” Sometimes the kids will see awful behavior and just hold out their hands. This joke persists to this day.

When our son was in high school, he and his dad went to a game shop. They were standing in line when another family came in. The mother in the other family was awful. She was swearing and rude and pushy.

Our son silently looked at my husband, pulled a dollar out of his pocket, and gave it to his dad. Later, he said that the woman was so awful that his dad deserved a dollar for “really, really not being that parent!”

My family and I went to a comic convention where my daughter was able to meet a pretty well-known male voice actor. My daughter is autistic, and due to the disability, we were able to get special bracelets and jump part of the line to see this particular celebrity. This was a nice accommodation, and I was pretty happy that my daughter wouldn’t have to wait in a long line; she doesn’t do well waiting.

We got called up to see said celebrity, and my daughter was gushing, asking really simple, easy-to-answer questions, over and over again. I mentioned that she was autistic, so this was how she talked and interacted with people.

The celebrity, upon learning my daughter was autistic, looked at his handler and said, “Don’t charge them. The autograph and selfie ($60) are free.”

I almost started to cry. I was absolutely willing to shell out the money to make my daughter happy. This man was absolutely amazing and took at least five minutes to devote time to her and did all the voices she requested. If he’s at another comic convention we can attend, we’re definitely going to see him again, if only to just say, “Hello.”

(I work as tech support in a government office filled with people who have PhDs but no understanding of technology. We get requests for help for all kinds of things and often have to provide one-on-one support. The IT department starts getting phone calls from one user saying voices are coming out of her computer. Our computers do not have built-in speakers, and we confirm she does not have external speakers; plus, whenever we go down there we hear nothing. One day I pick up and it is this user.)

Customer: “I keep hearing those d*** voices!”

Me: “I am really sorry. Are the voices happening now?”

Customer: “No, but that is the problem: I call and tell you guys to come fix this, but by the time you come down, it is gone. It keeps happening, though! Has someone hijacked my computer? Can they see me?!”

Me: “This is what I am going to do. I am going to come down and sit with you until the voices come back.”

(I tell my manager where I will be and go to her office. I sit there for three hours playing on my phone while the customer goes about her business. I am about to give up when I hear a muffled voice.)

Customer: “See?! You hear it, too! I am not crazy; something is in my computer. I want you to make the voices stop!”

(I begin to play a game of hot-or-cold, slowly walking around the room trying to figure out where the voice is the loudest. Doing this, I find myself by the wall behind her desk. I walk out of the room, take two steps to the door to the next room, and see that the person is on speaker-phone. They hang up and go back to typing. I go back to my customer.)

Me: “Did the voices just stop?”

Customer: “Yes! What is it?!”

Me: “Well, it appears the walls are really thin, and you are hearing the person next to you every time she picks up the phone. Her desk is right up against the wall, too.”

Customer: “That makes no sense! Why would I hear her? It has to be coming from something else!”

(The phone in the other office rings and the voice comes back.)

Me: “By any chance, does the voice start after you hear a phone ring?”

Customer: “That is not the voice I am hearing!”

Me: “I am really sorry; I don’t think we can make your voices go away.”

(My friend is the maître d’ at a high-end restaurant. Reservations are always needed for dinner, but on holidays they can book weeks in advance. It is Valentine’s Day, and he has been fully booked for over a month. As you can imagine, people try to break rules to get a seat. This is the case when a man and woman arrive.)

Man: “You should have a reservation for two under ‘Graves.'”

Maître D’: “I don’t have any open reservations. What was the first name?”

Man: *sigh* “Abigail Graves.”

Maître D’: “Excuse me for a moment while I check.”

(My friend is confused at this point, because there is, in fact, a reservation under the name; however, he has already seated them ten minutes before, and the seated woman has given him the correct code from the reservation app. He decides to check with the seated Abigail. She is a visibly pregnant woman who is sitting with an older woman.)

Maître D’: “Excuse me for bothering you, but a couple has arrived claiming to be under your reservation.”

(At this point, the pregnant woman starts to cry and the older woman looks furious.)

Older Woman: “The nerve of him! He probably has her with him.”

Abigail: “Grandma! Please! Look. Two weeks ago, I walked in on my boyfriend in bed with another woman. He’s been making my life miserable because I left him. He won’t let me come get my dog, and he has been following me. I can’t believe he is here. He fought with me when I made the reservation. If you seat him, I can’t look at him. I’ll have to leave… I…”

Maître D’: “Miss, please don’t worry. I will handle the situation. You and your grandmother just have a lovely Valentine’s dinner.”

(The owner sees the woman crying, and asks what the situation is. My friend quickly fills him in, and the owner says he wants to handle this personally. As they are walking back towards the door, the owner pauses.)

Owner: “What name was the reservation under?”

Maître D’: “Graves.”

Owner: *grinning ear to ear* “That’s what I thought.”

(They get to the rather peeved-looking man and woman a moment later.)

Owner: “I’d like you to know that I looked at the reservations. This restaurant doesn’t have any spare ‘Graves’ to seat you in. However, cheating on a pregnant woman means you deserve to be lying in one. Show yourself out.”

Man: “You have some nerve.”

Owner: “No? Okay, [Security Staff], escort them out.” *to Maître D’* “Please comp her meal. It’s not every day I can threaten someone using puns.”