(I’ve ordered a hamburger and onion rings in a cafeteria inside a supermarket. I pay for it, the cashier writes my name on the order, and I go find a table. For the purpose of this story, let’s say my name is Sheena. After a few minutes, I see a cafeteria worker walking around the tables with a hamburger and onion rings looking for a “Shane.” No one is answering. When she reaches my area:)

Me: “Could that possibly be for Sheena?”

Worker: “No, it says, ‘Shane.’”

(She heads back to the kitchen. The guy at the next table has been watching all this, so I comment:)

Me: “I bet you that was my order.”

(Over the next ten minutes or so, I hear the workers in the kitchen occasionally saying something about “Shane,” and then an announcement over the intercom saying that if there’s a Shane in the store, could he please come to the cafeteria. A few minutes later, the cashier who originally took my order marches into the seating area, comes over to me, and asks:)

Cashier: “Are you Sheena?”

Me: “Yes.”

(She rolls her eyes, hands me my order, and stalks off back to the kitchen.)

Me: *to the guy at the next table* “Told you that was my order.”

(I’m 5’3″, and while I’m not the shortest person at work, I still tend to get overlooked… a lot. This happens in a single shift. The manager calls a store meeting. I take my place on the floor next to several other employees. I am sitting right in front of where she is standing.)

Manager: “Where’s [My Name]? [MY NAME]!”

Me: “I’m right here, [Manager].”

Manager: “Oh.”

(Later…)

Manager: “And [My Name], go to aisle [number] and start pulling down overstock.”

(I’m in the aisle, digging through a box when the manager looks down my aisle and bellows over the radio:)

Manager: “[My Name]! I told you do go to Aisle [Number]!”

Me: *standing five feet away, straight down the aisle from where she’s standing* “What the heck do you think I’m doing?!”

Manager: “Oh. I didn’t see you.”

Me: *annoyed* “Obviously.”

(Even later…)

Manager: *bellowing into the walkie-talkie* “[My Name]! You’re supposed to be helping in the framing department!”

(I am up a ladder, handing a box of overstocked frames down to my coworker. We’re both less than three feet away.)

Me: “G**d*** it, [Manager]!”

Manager: “Oh, there you are.”

Me: “Grr…”

Coworker: “Maybe you’re like the elf who helps out the cobbler. You know, never seen, but always gets the job done?”

Me: “I wouldn’t mind so much if it didn’t get me yelled at!”

(We’ve just gotten a new district manager, and he is traveling to the different branches in the area to learn the “flow” of how we operate. He’s started at my branch, and is standing with me at my window. I’m talking to a customer about our accounts.)

Me: “…so, we’d love to have you as a customer! Are you interested in talking to [Banker] about opening an account?”

Customer: “Sure! You guys are always nice when I come in to cash my checks, and I’ve got some time.”

Me: “Great! Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I’ll grab [Banker] for you.”

(As she goes to sit down, I see [Banker] weaving his way through the line of customers in the lobby. He does this at least once a day — when it gets busy, he goes somewhere unknown and hides from customers.)

Me: *waves at him* “Hey, [Banker]. Can you come over here for a minute?”

(He waves me off and continues walking. All of a sudden, I hear a big, booming voice from the back of my window.)

District Manager: *at full volume* “[Banker]! GET OVER HERE!”

(He stops, pivots, and comes running over to my window.)

Banker: “[District Manager]! What can I do for you?”

District Manager: “[My Name] has been talking to the customer in the waiting area about opening an account. Take care of that.”

Banker: “Absolutely! Thank you, [My Name], for sending me more accounts!” *heads over to the waiting area*

District Manager: “I’d say we make a good team! Well done, [My Name].” *high-fives me*

(The guitar tech at the locally-owned music store my friends and I frequent has a reputation for being very reliable and knowledgeable, but also snobbish. He has a tendency to make you feel silly for not knowing what he knows about guitar. I generally try to avoid him for routine stuff. I swing into the store to buy some strings, which are in racks behind the counter.)

Employee: “What brand and gauge can I grab for you?”

Me: “Well, first, I’m actually wanting a specific kind, and I know they’re not the normal kind. I just read about them… hex core?”

Employee: *looks over rack* “Hmm. I’m not seeing any that say they’re hex core. Give me a second to run into the next room and I’ll ask [Guitar Guy].”

Me: *shoulders slump; I didn’t make it*

Employee: *coming back* “[Guitar Guy] says all strings are hex core unless they’re labeled round core.”

(I realize my error in that I’d swapped hex and round core strings. I bought some round core and left. Later I ran into one of my friends who knows about that store and I told him what happened.)

Friend: “Man, he wasn’t even in the same room and he still got you! Amazing!”

(I work in a large, open-plan office space. I overhear this gem at the island next to mine:)

Coworker #1: “Hey, did you know our general manager had a twin sister? He told me they’re really close; they talk to each other almost every day.”

Coworker #2: *who is going to be a first-time dad in a few months* “Wait. How is that possible? Can a boy be twins with a girl?!”

All Of Us: “…”