(It is close to Christmas, and I’ve asked my husband for pyjamas. He decides to go to a nearby store to see what they have. To his delight, there is a sign outside that says, “SATURDAY AND SUNDAY ONLY: all women’s sleepwear on sale, 50% off.” This is Saturday – perfect! He chooses a set and goes to pay for them. They ring up at the regular price.)

Husband: “Excuse me. That’s not correct; they should be 50% off.”

Cashier: “Well, that’s the price that’s coming up.”

Husband: “You’re having a sale on women’s sleepwear, though.”

Cashier: “No, we’re not.”

Husband: “Actually, you are.”

Cashier: “No, we’re not!”

Manager: “Is there a problem here?”

Cashier: “He says that women’s sleepwear is supposed to be on sale.”

Manager: “No, it’s not.”

Husband: *starting to get annoyed* “Then why does your sign outside say that it’s 50% off today and tomorrow?”

Manager: “What sign? There’s no sign.”

Husband: “If you look out the window here, you can see it.”

Manager: *barely glances out the window* “I don’t see a sign.”

Husband: “Would you like to come outside with me, and I’ll show you?”

(He isn’t really serious, but the manager takes him up on it, evidently thinking that she will be proven right.)

Manager: “Huh, look at that; there is a sign!” *goes back inside* “Okay, give him the sale price.”

(I told my husband later that if he’d really wanted to see the manager’s eyes bulge, he should have asked if they practice the Scanning Code Of Practice, because if they did, he should have either gotten the pyjamas for free or gotten $10 off, whichever would be less. He groaned and said that the whole ordeal was quite enough without doing THAT, thank you very much.)

(I’m waiting in a long lineup at the post office close to Christmas. The woman in front of me has a small parcel that she wants to mail for someone’s present.)

Customer: “How much will it cost to mail this to [Location]?”

Employee: “$7.50 if you want it to get there before Christmas, ma’am.”

Customer: “How much? Are you serious? I’m not paying that!”

Employee: “If you don’t need it to get there before December 25, you can pay $3.50, instead.”

Customer: “What? That’s still outrageously expensive! That’s more than the gift cost in the first place! Forget it!” *leaves*

(She waited in line for almost half an hour, only to balk at what seemed like a pretty reasonable amount of money. I felt sorry for the would-be recipient who would now not receive a Christmas present at all, because $3.50 was “outrageously expensive.”)

(I’ve never been able to eat eggs when they’re served on their own. It’s not an allergy, since I can eat them in baking with no problems. There’s something about the taste, smell, and texture that makes me gag. My mother-in-law has always known this about me, and yet… during a Christmas visit in 1992…)

Mother-In-Law: “[My Name], have some of this breakfast dish I made.”

Me: “No, thank you; I’ll just have some toast.”

Mother-In-Law: “Why not? I worked hard on that!”

Me: “It has eggs in it.”

Mother-In-Law: “Oh. Right.”

(During another visit in 1999…)

Mother-In-Law: “Ah, [My Name], there you are. I saved you some scrambled eggs.”

Me: “Um…”

Two-Year-Old Daughter: “Mummy doesn’t like eggs!”

Mother-In-Law: “What? Since when?”

(During another visit in 2012…)

Mother-In-Law: “[My Name], have a bagel tuna melt.”

Me: “Thank you! I love bagel melts.” *takes a bite* “Um, is there egg in the tuna?”

Mother-In-Law: “Of course!” *as though I am stupid to ask*

Me: *quietly to my husband* “Would you like mine? I’ll just have the soup.”

(It’s been over twenty-five years now, and I don’t think she’ll change. We’ve never gotten along, so I suspect that she’s “forgetting” on purpose.)

(My husband, daughters, and I are preparing to leave for our first trip to Disney World, so we’re all very excited. I have a somewhat unusual name. For clarity’s sake, let’s say that my full legal name is “Penelope Piggott-Montmorency,” but I always go by “Penny.” We’re Canadian, so we need passports to fly.)

Employee: *checking my boarding pass and passport* “Did you know that your boarding pass says, ‘Penny,’ but your passport says, ‘Penelope’?”

Me: “Oh, I always go by ‘Penny,’ so that’s what I put when I was booking our flights. Is that a problem?”

Employee: “Um, yes. Don’t you remember the airline website telling you that you have to use the same name as the one on your passport?”

Me: “Oh, boy, you’re right. I totally forgot.”

Employee: *continues to hang on to my documents* “I’m thinking seriously about not letting you get on the plane.”

Me: “What?!” *my kids start to cry* “But we’re going to Disney World! Is there anything I can do? I didn’t mean to use the wrong name! And you can see that the photo in the passport is definitely me.”

Employee: *smirks* “Rules are there for a reason, ma’am.”

(Just then, another airport employee joins us.)

Employee #2: “What’s the problem here?”

Employee: “She’s trying to board with a boarding pass that has a different name from her passport.”

Employee #2: *glances at documents* “You must be kidding. How many ‘Penny/Penelope Piggott-Montmorencys’ do you think the world has? Especially ones whose pictures match the woman standing in front of you? Let her and her family on the d*** plane.” *to me* “Enjoy your trip, ma’am. But next time, make sure you book your flight with the name ‘Penelope,’ just to avoid this kind of hassle again.” *glares at colleague*

(Ever since then, I’ve used my full legal name every time I fly, even when it’s domestic.)

(My friends and I have decided to spend our Saturday night at our favourite bar. Because I’m the designated driver, I’m sticking to a soda. I’ve left my half-finished drink on my table to go dancing. I figure that it’ll be safe, because one of my friends is staying at the table. When I get back, my glass is completely empty.)

Me: “What the h***? What happened to my soda?”

Friend: *grinning* “You know that creepy guy that’s always hanging around, waiting for other people to leave their drinks unattended so that he can finish them?”

Me: “You mean he drank my soda?”

Friend: “Yup.”

Me: “Why didn’t you stop him?”

Friend: “Because he was obviously hoping that it was alcoholic. He looked really peeved that it was only soda.”

Me: “Well, that’s great and all, but now I’m drinkless.”

Friend: “I’ll buy you another one. It was worth it just to see his face.”

(I don’t know if the creepy guy changed his ways after that, but he never tried to steal one of my drinks again, anyway.)