Many years ago (1958), after my father died, my mother and I sailed from England to Canada to visit my sister and her husband in Edmonton. We docked in Montreal and had to spend a night there before catching a train to Toronto and then across Canada.
We arrived at a hotel and my mother asked for a room – in English. The young woman behind the desk began to prattle off in French that she didn’t understand and that she only spoke French. I was only 12 at the time, but I’d had nearly 4 years of French in school in England.
She stood there with an arrogant smirk until I said “Mademoiselle, Je parle Francais. Tu parle Quebecois! Maintenant, une chambre. S’il vous plait”. Which was “Miss, I speak French, you speak Quebec dialect. Now, a room, please.”
Suddenly she spoke fluent English and seemed a little embarrassed that an obvious ‘English kid’ spoke French with a Parisian accent that was purer than hers.

Lady:hello could I order a pizza for a Johnathan?
Me: yes you can. (After putting in her order) ok if that is all then have a good night mam
20 min later
Lady calls back asking if we can add a message into the box in another language. I’m new and tell her yes and have her spell the message out for me. One of my senior colleagues walks by and ask what’s up, after telling her what the lady wanted, I’m told that we can’t do that. I call the lady back and tell her, but she cant think of anything to put in English. I suggest that I write :there is always a silver lining. Lady accepts and I write it telling her that I hope she has a good day. I don’t know if the person the message was for got it, or if it made them happy, but I really hope it put a bit of pep into their step.

Also sorry for the odd format. I’m typing this on mobile.

(Earlier this year, my husband and I found out we are pregnant. I make an appointment with my doctor to confirm the pregnancy, and find out that we are about 6 weeks along. My doctor is part of a large medical network, and most of the buildings are located within about a mile raduis, in the center of town.)

Nurse: *giving me basic information on early pregnancy symptoms* …. also, our office does not actually provide obstetric care, so you will have to find an OB. I suggest scheduling something for about 2 weeks from now. If you need a referral, we’ll be happy to give you one.

Me: Awesome! I know the whole medical area here is pretty well connected, do you happen to know of anyone that seems to be recommended a lot?

Nurse: *thinking for a moment* I know [male Dr 1] opened his own practice down the street, and he has a couple of other doctors there with him. I’m pretty sure most of the girls here *referring to the other nurses* went there for thier babies, and they all seemed to really like [female Dr 2]. I’ve only heard great things about her. I think we’ve got a couple of cards behind the desk- I’ll grab one for you when you check out.”

(I thank her, check out, and leave. Later, I’m telling my mother about what the nurse said, and find out that [male Dr 1] was actually my mom’s doctor when she was pregnant with me! She highly recommends his practice, so I decide to give them a call. While I’m trying to schedule an appointment, I’m told that [male Dr 1] has actually moved out of obstetrics, and is focusing more on gynecology and a couple of other specialized care areas. However, he has 2 doctors in his practice that do perform OB care. I ask if [ Dr 2] has any upcoming availabilities, but unfortunately she wouldn’t be able to fit me in for about 2 months. The receptionist suggests an upcoming availability with [Dr 3], and assures me that she has had a lot of positive feedback from patients. I decide to go for it and take the appointment. As we get closer to the appointment, I’m pretty nervous, so my husband comes with me. On the day of the appointment, although she seems a bit cold and professional, she seems to know what she’s doing. My husband decides he wants to come to all of my OB appointments, usually hoping to get to see an ultrasound or hear the heartbeat. When my 4 month appointment comes along, we are told that [ Dr 3] will not be in that week, and are given the choice to either reschedule, or see [Dr 2]. We decide to go ahead and see the doctor that I was originally hoping to work with. It’s worthwhile to note that my husband and I have a bit of an age gap, and have become used to the evil eye when we go out.)

[Dr 2]: *brightly breezing into the room* Hi guys! I’m [Dr 2], nice to meet you! *she suddenly stops, steps back, and looks back and forth between my husband and myself*

Me:*thinking to myself* oh no. Here we go.

[Dr 3]: *points at each of us, and has a surprised expression* Oh. I gotta say. Looking at you two- this is gonna be a REALLY cute baby! *laughs warmly*

(My husband and I laugh in relief, and finish the appointment. Over the course of the pregnancy, [Dr 2] has warmed up to us, though I have a feeling her cold demeanor in the beginning was simply due to a busy schedule and meeting new patients. I am thankful for the wonderful treatment the practice has provided for us, and wouldn’t have chosen to go anywhere else. We are expecting our little bundle of joy in the fall!

I’m a Baha’i, and it’s the Month of the Fast. I tell my non-Baha’i friends this, but I don’t expect them to keep track of the days I have to fast, and later that week, I’m not surprised they’ve forgotten.

I’m invited out to dinner to celebrate a friend’s birthday about thirty minutes after sundown. At sunset, I drink some water and scarf down a pimento-cheese sandwich to curb my cravings, then drive to the restaurant, still pretty hungry. At the restaurant, we find out there’s a 40-minute wait to get a free table. I’m wishing I’d eaten more before driving out there, but I don’t complain. We make conversation and catch up on things, but by the time we get our table, my stomach is rumbling again, and I’m pretty thirsty, to boot. At this point, all I can think about is food. When we get to our table, I down most of my glass of water immediately. When the waitress comes to our table, this happens.

Me: Hi, I’d like [entree].

Waitress: *surprised, since everyone else is ordering just drinks and appetizers right now* Okay, sure. There’ll be a wait until everyone orders their entrees; is that okay?

Me: Sure. Right. Of course.

Friend: *taken aback* [My name], we’re all supposed to eat together.

Me: I’m really hungry.

I should have explained about the Fast again, but I was embarrassed that I hadn’t planned this outing properly, so I said nothing more about it and quietly waited for my food. The birthday boy was sitting at the opposite end of the table, so I don’t know if he noticed me being so rude. But in case he did and he’s reading this now, I’m so sorry! I learned my lesson, and the next time I went out to dinner during the Fast, I went to a buffet.

So this happened at my local big box store:

Cashier: “Do you want to purchase a bag today?”
Me: “No, I brought my own” *shows him a different store’s rattan bag that still has their price tag on it and their name emblazed all over it*
Cashier: “So you want to purchase this bag?”
Me: “What? No, this is my own bag, and it’s from a different store, not from here.”
Cashier: “Umm….I guess that’s okay…” and then I see him surreptitiously try to scan the price tag when he thinks I’m not looking.

The disappointment on his face when it didn’t ring up was priceless.