(My boyfriend is trying to do a money order, and I have gone with him. Note that he is a very well-mannered British man with no patience for impoliteness. He has also never done a money order before.)

Boyfriend: “Hi, I’d like to get a money order.”

(The cashier glares at him but says nothing. There is an awkward pause.)

Boyfriend: “Um, sorry, I said I’d like to get a money order.”

(Another pause. The cashier glares at him again. Finally, she snaps at him.)

Cashier: *loudly and rudely* “For how much?!”

Boyfriend: *taken aback* “Sorry, for $[amount].”

(He then turns to me with a very calm look on his face.)

Boyfriend: *in his very level, polite British accent* “I have never met someone so rude in my entire life.”

(Though I am bad at confrontation and have nothing to reply with, the cashier freezes. Her tone and demeanor immediately change.)

Cashier: “Would you like cash back?”

Boyfriend: “No, thank you.”

(The transaction finishes with the cashier being much meeker, and as we walk away:)

Me: “Some people just like to take their misery out on others. Sorry, love.”

(I am leading an active life and enjoyed working out regularly, but recently I have found myself constantly exhausted, with bouts of pain, dizziness, and a racing heart. Worried, I get an appointment with my doctor, who refers me to a neurologist to rule out a few things. I am a short young woman who appears heavier than she is due to a large chest, broad shoulders, and a muscular build. As I walk in, there’s no receptionist to be seen. A few minutes later the doctor himself arrives. When I start describing my issues, he takes a short look at me and asks me to step on the scales (fully clothed). I am confused, but comply. He doesn’t even look at the numbers before tutting.)

Doctor: “Well, there you have it. Just lose some weight and you will be all right.”

Me: *increasingly vexed* “I am trying, but I actually had to STOP working out due to those issues I have! I would love to be more active again, and I still eat healthy and walk everywhere I can, but—”

Doctor: *interrupting me in a condescending tone* “You just have to try harder.”

Me: *close to tears, trying to make him understand that I am serious* “Would you tell someone who’s in a wheelchair that they can of course run a marathon, they only have to try hard enough?”

Doctor: “Now, now, no need to get snarky. I’ll write in my report that you have weight-related issues and should work out more.”

(I raced out, embarrassed and angry. Later it turns out that I have fibromyalgia with chronic fatigue, as well as a severe panic disorder. I guess “just working out more” was not the solution…)

(My manager frequently calls me into his office or rings me on my desk phone when he isn’t sure how to phrase or spell something. Today, however, was a really good one. My desk line rang and showed his extension.)

Me: “Helloooooo!”

Manager: “Is there a key on the keyboard that makes an arrow?”

Me: “Wait… what?”

Manager: “I want to type an arrow. Is there a way to do that?”

Me: “I usually do a hyphen and a carat.”

Manager: “What? Okay… Hyphen.” *I hear him hit a key in the background* “And what?”

Me: “Like a greater than or less than sign, depending which way you want your arrow to point.”

Manager: “Oh! Yeah! Wait, how do I make those again?”

Me: “Capital period or capital comma, depending.”

Manager: “There it is! AND LOOK AT THAT! AN ARROW! Man, you are SOOO SMART!”

Me: “So it’s not really a key for an arrow, but a combination. A build-your-own-arrow. I can teach you how to make lots of other things too! Some of them are dirty!”

Manager: “Okay, that’s probably enough for today.” *click*

(It’s late in the evening. My mother and I had a very long day, and neither of us are in the mood to cook, so we decided to grab a snack at the chip van. Note that I’m a vegetarian.)

Me: “Excuse me, sir, are those lumpias vegetarian?”

Him: “Yes, ma’am! There is just some sparkle of ham in it.”

Me: “…”

(My mother could barely retain her laughter until we left.)

(My mother is not the most tech savvy person, so she usually comes to me with her phone problems. The other day she told me her phone kept dying despite charging it all the time. I figured it was either the charger, the port on the phone, or the battery itself, so on Sunday afternoon we take it to the local phone store. To start, the store is completely empty. We stand at the counter and notice the backroom door open. My mom takes a peek inside before someone finally runs out wearing a football jersey and asks how he can help us. I explain the phone situation and ask what he thinks the problem is. He takes the phone into the backroom and reappears ten minutes later.)

Jersey: “It’s a roaming issue.”

Me: “Roaming issue?”

Jersey: “Yeah, if the phone thinks you’re roaming it sometimes does that.”

Me: “You mean to tell me that because of my geographical location, the phone won’t charge correctly?”

Jersey: “Yeah.”

Me: “Are you sure it’s not the battery, or the charger, or something?”

Jersey: “Nope, it’s a roaming issue.”

(At this point there is cheering from the backroom and the employee becomes noticeably agitated and fidgety.)

Me: “Okay, I’ll just turn the roaming off.”

(As soon as we left, the employee ran into the back room. We called tech support and learned it was just the battery and a replacement was sent. I recommended a replacement for their store manager as well.)