(I have a cold with a sore throat, and a long drive home ahead of me, so I stop in a fast food place for some hot tea before leaving the Florida town I’ve been visiting.)

Me: “Can I get a small fries and a medium hot tea?”

Cashier: “Hot… tea?”

Me: “Yeah. Tea that’s hot?”

Cashier: “I’ve never heard of that.”

Me: *double checks the menu* “Tea. It’s on the drink list.”

Cashier: *points to iced tea jugs behind her* “Yeah. Tea.”

Me: “No, it’s hot—”

Cashier: “You want me to warm that up? I’m not sure we can do that.”

Me: “No, no, never mind. I’ll just have a small coffee and a small fries.”

Cashier: “Okay.” *shakes her head* “Hot tea…”

(Even in the south, how do you just not know that tea can also be made hot?)

(Due to various circumstances I find myself finishing work at 2:30 am one night. The rest of my team is travelling on to a different job, and are going nowhere near the hotel I’m checked in to. I’ve already tried the taxi number I was given at the hotel, but there are no cars available. I try over twenty more numbers given to me by Google, but the only company that answers doesn’t have anything available to go to a small, rural town to collect just one person. I decide that I can walk the eight miles back to the hotel instead. It’s unlit most of the way, and about two-thirds of the way there I end up on a road without a pavement, but I make it safely in just under two-and-a-half hours. The night receptionist is outside smoking when I arrive. We chat for a bit, and I explain what I’ve just done.)

Me: “Breakfast, then a nap, then home, I think. What time’s checkout?”

Receptionist: “It’s at noon, but… Yeah, do you want a later checkout?”

Me: “Nah, work won’t pay for it.”

Receptionist: “I’ll put it in as a freebie. You’ve earned it.”

Me: “Well…”

Receptionist: “You’ve just walked farther in one night than I will in a month. There! You’re booked in for a 2:00 pm checkout. Plenty of time for breakfast and a nap.”

Me: “Thanks!”

(I got enough sleep to manage the three-hour train journey home safely, thanks to that receptionist.)

(My cell phone rings from a number I don’t know, and I answer.)

Me: “Hello. This is [My Name].”

Telemarketer: “Hi there! I’m calling from [Company] to tell you the good news! You qualify for special offers to install solar panels to help reduce the energy bills for your home!”

Me: “Before I let you get too far in… I actually rent an apartment, so I don’t own a roof.”

Telemarketer: *laughs* “Well, in that case… I’m calling to tell you the bad news. Unfortunately, you do not qualify for any of our special offers at this time. Hope you have a nice day!”

Me: “You, too!”

(Having dealt with plenty of stubborn telemarketers in the past, his sense of humor in handling the call certainly brightened my day!)

(I work at a butcher shop. The two main butchers, also the manager and assistant manager, are two men of about 50 years old. One is short and rotund, and is extremely tough looking, but his personality is exactly the opposite. The other guy is humongous, nearly seven feet tall and built like a brick house, mainly because he hauls huge slabs of meat all day. He is a bit simple minded, though, and not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He is also the sweetest person I know. The main form of communication they use, however, is shouting. They’re not angry or anything, they just don’t have inside voices. It’s always funny when we have new customers or new coworkers, because they always jump when they first hear the two shout.)

Customer: “And I’d like a couple of steaks as well—”

Butcher #1: *shouts loudly while chopping up meat* “I TOLD YOU IT WOULD BE LIKE THAT!” *whacks cleaver loudly onto the block* “I TOLD YOU LAST WEEK! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU LEFT!” *whacks again* “I TOLD YOU MULTIPLE TIMES!” *vigorously whacks a final time* “DIDN’T I TELL YOU SO?”

(At this point he walks over to the other butcher, weaving his cleaver around. The regulars are used to this, but the new customers are easily spotted due to their white and shocked faces.)

Customer: “Uh…”

Butcher #2: *shouting even harder* “I KNOW YOU TOLD ME THAT, BUT I DIDN’T EXPECT IT TO BE SO BAD! IT WAS HORRIBLE!”

(He grabs a knife as well, and starts waving it around while he’s looking for his whetstone. The waving around is just his way of emphasizing his point. By now, some customers are genuinely scared.)

Customer: “Are… are they all right? What’s going on?”

Me: “Huh? Oh, it’s nothing; they’re always like that. It’s no big deal.”

Butcher #1: “I TOLD YOU THE BEACH WOULD BE BUSY! IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER!”

Me: “Apparently they’re discussing the beach today. Anything else, sir?”

(I run to the grocery store with $40 budget money in my pocket. I must have added something incorrectly because the total comes to $40.35.)

Me: *to the mentally distant cashier* “Oh, well, I only brought $40. So . . . I guess I can go ahead and put that $0.35 on my debit card.” *awkward smile as I hold out the card*

(The cashier, clearly not paying attention to a word I said, grabs my $40 and keys in some numbers, and the register pops open, then she looks at me, confused as to why I’m standing there handing her my card. She looks back at the monitor and sees that it’s telling her to give me $3,999.65 in change. She looks back at me, worried for some reason.)

Me: *maintaining awkward smile, holding my card*

Cashier: *looks at monitor, looks back at me, very confused*

Me: “I still have $0.35 to pay.”

Cashier: “I’ll… I can take care of that for you. Have a nice day.” *closes register*

(I should have demanded my change, I guess.)