(I am with a couple of friends at a music festival for the weekend. We are in line to enter the arena, with security checking for alcohol. I have just bought a bottle of water that I haven’t opened yet. The guard motions for me to hand it to him.)

Me: “I just bought that so—”

(He untwists the top, breaks the seal, and throws out the entire contents, before crushing the bottle and trying to hand it back to me. I just stand there and stare at him. I can feel him poking me with it, hoping that I take it. He then gets the hint and the realisation is clear on his face.)

Guard: “That was a new bottle, wasn’t it?”

Me: “Yeah, I literally got it at the stall behind us not two minutes ago.”

(He bought a new bottle for me and apologised, which is more than can be said for some of the security there. I understand what you’re trying to do, but you have to at least pay enough attention to be aware of what you’re doing. You’re meant to be keeping us safe, not making us resent you at the same time.)

(A recent storm has done a lot of damage, so contractors are swarming to local neighborhoods and going door-to-door offering their services. I live with my parents but around this time during the day, I am the only one home. We’ve had a half-dozen guys come through in about four days, and they won’t listen to me when I tell them I have no power to authorize their services. A contractor comes by and gives a spiel about how they are doing free inspections and that most of any work done would be covered by insurance.)

Me: *firmly but not rudely* “I’m really sorry to waste your time, but this is my parent’s house, and we’ve already been checked out. We don’t have any damage. Have a nice day.”

Contractor: “Oh, but even if you have no damage you could still get a new roof on the insurance company! With all the claims in your area they would never know!”

Me: “I’m fairly certain that’s illegal, or at least questionable. I think we’re done here.”

(The guy seems pretty new to this and I feel bad when I see the almost distraught look on his face as I start closing the door.)

Me: *sigh* “Look: I know it’s tough. But I’m telling you that you’re wasting your time on me. Hmm. It’s pretty hot out, and you don’t look so good. If you’d like, I can get you a cold water bottle, but then you should go, okay?”

(After getting him a bottle.)

Contractor: “You just don’t know what it is like, walking house to house in rural areas, just to be rejected over and over. It’s not an easy task, here!”

Me: “Actually, I have a pretty good idea—”

Contractor: “Give me a break! Selling Girl Scout cookies doesn’t count; people love those! I’ve been yelled at today. No one yells at little kids!”

Me: *deadpan* “Actually, I was going to say I’m one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. And I think it’s time you got off my porch.”

(He scampered off as I closed the door. Sadly, someone else from another company came by an hour and a half later, anyway.)

(I am a mystery shopper. For this particular assignment, I’ve been asked to wear old clothes and see if I will receive service at the watch and jewelry counter at a somewhat high-end department store. I am told to not verbally address any of the clerks directly, but eye contact is okay. I show up looking like I’ve just come from the gym, wearing an old Batman shirt and yoga pants.)

Clerk: *moves away from my area and ignores me*

Me: *makes direct eye contact*

Clerk: *starts to chat with a colleague and ignores me*

(I am starting to understand why I’ve been asked to do this assignment. I decide to make a game of it.)

Me: *very obviously checks out the more expensive watches*

Clerk: *continues to chat with colleague*

Me: *moves on to the 18-karat gold jewelry*

Clerk: “Boy, I can’t wait for this day to be over. It’s been so quiet today!”

(I finally gave up after waiting for over twenty minutes. I took a certain savage glee in writing up my report for the mystery shopper company.)

(A girl I work with is transferring to a new centre soon, and one of the male coworkers thinks it would be funny to deliver a series of pranks as a send off. His way of “balancing it out” is that she can get back at him. The girl is a really good sport and deals with all his pranks, finding them funny although somewhat annoying. One day, after he has completely covered her desk in plastic wrap, she decides to take him up on his offer to “get back at him,” since her last day is quickly coming. She rearranges his desk and covers it in aluminium foil. I am involved because we think it will be a kick for him to go on scavenger hunt for some of his desk items. I’m on my break and I have the clue for him to find his keyboard, when he comes down after discovering his desk.)

Male Coworker: “Do you know where my computer keyboard is?”

Me: “This is the clue: ‘Your keyboard is in an area you frequent when you need to make sure everything is okay. Go there and you will find your keyboard today.'”

(It is in our basement that has the pool reading levels. To my surprise, he looks away and sighs.)

Male Coworker: “Yeah, I’m not doing this. Just tell me where it is. I need it now.”

(I then realize he is quite annoyed.)

Me: “Uh, okay. It’s in the basement; I’ll take you there.”

Male Coworker: “Thanks.” *sighs again* “I can’t believe [Female Coworker] did this stupid prank. This is so inconvenient!”

(I have to walk with him while he just complains and complains about how annoying the prank is. I try to keep silent until I can’t take it anymore.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but haven’t you been pranking and inconveniencing [Female Cowrker] for a month now?”

Male Coworker: “That’s different; those pranks were good. This is just tasteless.”

(I just keep my mouth shut before I say something I regret. Luckily, my sister who works with me and is also in on the prank doesn’t have any filter.)

Sister: “Wow! [Male Coworker], I didn’t realize you could dish it out but not take it.”

Male Coworker: “I have things to do and this prank is so much worse than what I’ve done to her. I had to completely remove the waste of aluminum foil—”

Sister: “And that’s worse than plastic wrap? Please enlighten me on this.”

Male Coworker: *more annoyed* “I didn’t touch any of her stuff and hide it in different places.”

Sister: “You’re right, you just wasted all her post-it notes on her car, replaced her computer monitor with a broken one, and then wasted a bunch of paper on pointless photocopies of Nicolas Cage. But what she did was so much worse. My apologies.”

(The male coworker left, turning a noticeable shade of red. I guess it was all fun and games until he got a taste of his own medicine.)

(I’m at a contact fair organized by a group at my university. My friend and I pass the booth run by the organizers, and decide to fill out their quick survey about how we found out about the event, if we liked it, etc. The second question already has me dumbfounded.)

Me: “Age… age… How old am I?

Booth Attendant: *laughing* “It’s weird how that’s a question so many students stumble over; you’d think that people in their twenties would know how old they are. What year were you born?”

Me: “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve been asked how old I am all year, only ever for my birth date or birth year. Hold on…” *musing out loud* “I was born in 1995, so in 2015, I was 20, and I already had a birthday this year, so that makes me 22 now.”

(I put my age into the field and complete the survey, the booth attendant chatting with me and my friend the whole time, laughing when we stumble over equally basic questions. Finally, we both hand her our surveys and she pulls out the bowl with rewards: various sweets.)

Booth Attendant: “You know what? This seemed really hard for two civil engineering students like you two, and I don’t think we’re getting that many others, so dig in!”

(We did so and said goodbye, hoping that at least we made the work in the stuffy tent a little bit more fun for her!)