(My girlfriend is shopping for a new car. We get to the Car Brand dealership. When we go in, all the salespersons are in a circle, chatting, in the middle of the showroom. The car my girlfriend wants to see is the Car Brand Model, and there’s one right behind the group. We approach and a salesman breaks off the group and comes toward us.)

Salesman: “Hello, may I help you?”

Me: “We’d like to see the [Car Brand Model].” *pointing to the car behind him*

Salesman: “Perfect. Come with me to my office. We’ll fill up the customer information form.”

Me: “Err… Is it possible to have a look at the car first?”

Salesman: “We’ll do that later. We should fill the customer information form so I can help you choose the right car.”

Me: “How about a pamphlet?”

Salesman: “I’ll get you that in my office.”

(To me, he’s already starting on the left foot. We get to his office. He starts off with the standard questions of name and address, etc.)

Salesman: “So you’re looking at the [Car Brand Model]. What attracted you to this car? Is it price, design, performance, economy?”

Me: “I can’t answer that; you prevented us from approaching the car.”

Salesman: *blank look*

(My girlfriend and I are looking at each other, already thinking of leaving.)

Me: “Look. We want a car that is fuel efficient and not too expensive…”

Salesman: “So, economy and price.” *while checking those choices, then continues down his darn form*

Salesman: “Okay. How much are you current car payments?”

Me: *firm* “No.”

Salesman: “Ah, it’s all paid off, then.”

Me: “No. I’m not giving you this information.”

Salesman: “Well, if you want me to direct you to the best car for your payment, you have to tell me.”

Me: *starting to be annoyed* “Look. We’d like to have a price for the [Car Brand Model] and get our trade-in evaluated…”

Salesman: *cutting me off, turning his computer screen toward us* “Well, if it’s a price you want, you just have to go to the [Car Brand] website.”

Me: *in disbelief* “We already went there. I want to know the value of the trade-in, and we’d like to SEE and TRY the car.” *tone getting louder*

Salesman: “Ah… well, I’ll go see if my manager can arrange for a test drive. We’ll check the trade-in while you test drive it.”

(He leaves.)

Girlfriend: *to me* “He has to go ask permission to his manager for a test drive? Want to leave already?”

Me: “Let’s have a look at the car first.”

(We sit in the car and look around. For a variety of reasons, we don’t like it. Being polite and not wanting to appear to have stormed out, we wait for the salesman. It takes him a good ten minutes to come back.)

Salesman: “I just talk to my manager and it’s okay for a test drive.”

Me: “Forget it. We saw it and it’s not for us.”

(We left. I changed my car recently. Needless to say I didn’t even set foot at that dealership.)

(My husband really wants to get dinner at a Latin American/Japanese fusion restaurant near where we are living at the time. He’s in the military so this would be one of his only chances to go to the restaurant. I agree even though I’ve been very queasy lately and nicer restaurants like that can be rude about substitution requests. After looking over the menu, I order the salmon well-done and with the sauce on the side.)

Waitress: “The salmon’s very good here. You should let our chef cook it like he wrote in the menu.”

Me: “Normally I would, but today I’m not feeling very well. I’d prefer to have it cooked through, please.”

(When the food comes out, my husband’s fusion dish looks amazing. My salmon isn’t even completely seared on the sides and is raw all the way through.)

Me: “Can I please have this cooked?”

Waitress: “It’s not like it’s easy to tell how cooked a piece of fish is. You should just eat it; you’ll like it better this way.”

Me: “I’m pregnant.”

(She took my plate back and brought cooked-through salmon. At the time I was still in my first trimester and had all-day and all-night morning sickness. The salmon was delicious and did not make me sick.)

(I bring a water bottle to work every day. Since I have the hiccups, I pick up my bottle and take a drink. I immediately choke and have a coughing fit.)

Coworker #1: *not looking up from her computer* “Do you need some water?”

Me: *glances at half-full water bottle still in my hand and starts laughing in between wheezes*

Coworker #2: *also laughing* “She choked ON water.”

(Hey, at least my hiccups were cured!)

(I am at a local chain of Mexican restaurants placing my order at the counter. Note that the quesadilla normally comes with black beans, cheese, and your choice of proteins and fillings.)

Me: “Could I get a quesadilla with chicken, cheese, jalapeño, onion, cilantro, and no beans?”

Employee: “I’m sorry, sir, we don’t have no beans, only black beans and pinto beans.”

(I am teasing a customer’s daughter, who is absolutely not falling for my lies.)

Girl: “How much is the candy?”

Me: “A million-billion dollars.”

Girl: “Nuh-uh!”

Me: “Yup… million-billion dollars.”

Girl: “No, it isn’t!”

(A few minutes later, she notices one of the items on the shelves behind me.)

Girl: “What are those?”

Me: “They’re jars to put candy in. They cost five dollars, plus the price of candy.”

(She nods.)

Me: “And the candy is a million-billion dollars.”

Girl: “It is NOT!”

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