(I’m the parts manager for a body shop that specializes in high-end cars. My shop is contracted to do all the warranty work for several dealerships in the area. I have just returned to work after taking sick leave and am still getting my head back in the game.)

Me: “I know that you can get custom nameplates for your vehicles, but since when does Land Rover provide them?”

Estimator: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I just got our shipment and these came in for that Discovery you’re dealing with, the one with the new hatchback.”

Estimator: “And?”

Me: *holding up two packages, each with a pre-arranged series of letters ready to put on the vehicle* “I’ve never seen anyone so proud of their hobbies. I mean, who would put “VERY DISCO” on their car?”

(My coworker reaches over and swaps the packages around so I can see that they combine to spell “DISCOVERY.”)

Me: “…I’ve been sick.”

(I do deliveries for a florist. I just got hired. The supervisor is a young guy that looks like he’s in his twenties and has a bad attitude. I just have shown up to work.)

Supervisor: “Why are you just standing around? Did you clock in?”

Me: “I don’t know how to do that.”

Supervisor: “What? Didn’t you get an email from [Florist]?!”

Me: “I didn’t get an email.”

(At this point, I’m getting miffed, because by his tone he seems to think it is my fault.)

Supervisor: “Well, don’t you wanna get PAID?!”

Me: “That would be nice, yes.”

Supervisor: *now agitated* “Call [Boss]! Call him right now! Tell him to send you an email!” *storms away*

(I pulled out my cell phone, and called him. He sent it and everything was okay. Later, the supervisor angrily fired me because ‘they over-hired,’ but I somehow think otherwise…)

(I work for a company that stores and processes information for certain Medicaid plans. One of the plans is in New Mexico. We use the United States Postal Service website to verify members’ addresses that are not showing valid in our systems. A coworker is asking me a question about our New Mexico plan.)

Me: “All right, so their address isn’t valid in the system. You’ll need to look it up online to see what it should be.”

Coworker: “Is there a website we can use like [Other Plan]?”

Me: “Yeah… You need to use USPS, same as the other plans.”

Coworker: “We can use that even in New Mexico?”

Me: “[Coworker], what does ‘USPS’ stand for?”

Coworker: “Oh! Yeah, I forgot New Mexico was part of the US.”

Me: “Oh…”

Coworker: “Because I don’t like Mexico.”

(My mom and I are at the mall running some errands and she asks me if I’d like to stop at our cell phone provider’s kiosk to see if they can replace my screen protector which is cracked. For emphasis, my screen protector is cracked not my phone’s actual screen. I catch the attention of one of the kiosk’s employees.)

Me: “Hi, I need to replace my screen protector. I got it at your store when I bought my phone. Can I buy a new screen protector here?”

Employee: “Well, what brand was it?”

Me: “Oh. I don’t know.”

Employee: “Well, you need to contact that company about getting a replacement.”

Me: “Oh, no. I’m not looking for a replacement. I was just hoping I could buy a new screen protector here and have you guys put it on.”

Employee: “You need to contact the company and then fill out the form to get a replacement.”

Me: “But I just want to BUY a new screen protector.”

(At this point I gesture to the case in the kiosk that has glass screen protectors in it.)

Employee: “Yeah, you need to contact the company.”

(My mom is bristling at this point and about to go off, but I shake my head at her and thank the employee and then walk about 20 ft. to a glass screen protector kiosk. They replace my screen protector with no problem, a two-week warranty, and a discount on my next replacement.)

I’m the idiot in this story.

I recently started working at this restaurant, and as such, I haven’t figured everything out yet. On this particularly slow Saturday night, I’ve been restocking the various items under the front counter, like the sauces, cups, and lids, as well as cleaning around all these things, too. I see a button that looks like it would release something (I can’t remember what now) so I could clean under it. I press it, and nothing happens. I ignore the button and continue cleaning.

Less than five minutes later, my manager’s on the phone with the franchise owner, and we’ve got two police officers standing in the lobby. Apparently, I’d pressed the silent alarm button. I get a short talking-to, but everyone laughs it off and the officers are just glad there was no danger. The manager gives them a couple of sandwiches for their trouble, and everything goes back to normal.

I felt incredibly bad and apologized profusely, only to be told, “It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again. People just like pushing buttons, even if they don’t know what they’re for.”

Guilty as charged.