(I decide to go through the drive-thru of one of the local fast food restaurants. I used to work at this location, so I place my order as easily as possible, so the employee doesn’t have to ask 100 questions.)

Me: “Hi, I’d like a medium #4, with three egg rolls instead of the fries, and a Dr. Pepper with light ice, please.”

Employee: “Okay, that’s a #4 with onion rings and a small Diet Coke?”

(As she says this, the items start appearing on the order screen.)

Me: “Um, no. I’d like it with three egg rolls and a medium Dr. Pepper.”

(I see the onion rings disappear from the ordering screen, but the Diet Coke stays up there.)

Employee: “Okay, if your order looks correct, it’ll be—”

Me: “My order isn’t correct. I’d like a medium Dr. Pepper with light ice, not a small Diet Coke.”

(She finally rings up the correct drink.)

Employee: “Does your order look correct now?”

Me: “Yes, but I’m not done ordering. Can I get—”

Employee: “Your total will be—”

Me: *losing patience* “I’M. NOT. DONE. ORDERING. YET.”

(Silence from her while I gather my composure.)

Me: “Can I get two tacos with no taco sauce, please?”

Employee: *sigh* “Will that complete your order?”

Me: “Yes.”

Employee: “Your total will be [total] at the window.”

(The funniest part was that the person working the drive-thru was the manager! I was polite my entire time at the window, but she all but threw my change and food at me before mumbling a thank you and slamming the window shut. My fiancée, who was in the car with me, couldn’t stop laughing the entire time.)

(I’m the assistant for the technical director of an international phone company. On this particular day she comes in with a bemused expression and a huge vase of flowers in her hands.)

Me: “Oh, that’s pretty; who are those from?”

Director: “One of the Vice Presidents, for Secretary Appreciation Day, apparently.”

Me: “What?!”

Director: “Yeah, darndest thing. I was on my way to a meeting on the executive floor and he came by with this cart of flowers. He saw me and handed me this, saying he wanted to make sure all secretaries from every floor got included.”

Me: “Wait… he thought you were a secretary?”

Director: “So it appears. Guess since he only comes by our branch every once in a while, and I’m female, didn’t do anything with my hair and wear glasses, I ticked enough of the stereotype boxes for him.”

Me: “So… did you correct him?”

Director: “Nah, I think I’ll wait till our weekly meeting when he’s due to sit with the other directors. Let everyone see the look on his face when the truth comes out.”

(Later that week she came in to find a new $500 dollar designer purse on her desk, with a huge card of apology sticking out of it.)

Me: *to coworker* “When you are applying for a job, we all know to update our resumes and keep them current. Right?”

Coworker: “Yup, why?”

Me: “I’m going through some resumes and I feel like I need to dispense some basic advice. One: if you must abbreviate titles, the abbreviation for “Assistant Supervisor” is not “Ass Supervisor.” Two: ensure the software with which you are familiar is current. You get no brownie points for having knowledge in Netscape Navigator, WordPerfect, or Lotus 1-2-3. Three: keep your contact information current. Please do not use your ex-spouse’s telephone number. We don’t want to hear about how they hope you get this job because they owe you back child support or how that “p.o.s.” and you are going through a divorce…”

(We have adopted a rescue dog who is very sweet, but does have quite a lot of psychological problems – one of them being an excessive fear of men. I only stayed home by coincidence, having a raging migraine. On the door is a sign that our normal mailman knows very well, since my parents often work night shifts and have to sleep in the morning, stating “PLEASE DON’T RING THE DOORBELL OR KNOCK!!!”, including the address where letters and packages can be delivered, which is right next door – my grandparents. The doorbell rings five times in a row, obviously one very impatient person. My dog freaks out and starts barking and growling, scratching my door. I crawl out of bed, grab a dressing gown, and make my way down the stairs, following the dog who is already in front of the front door, barking and growling at a figure that is STILL RINGING THE DOORBELL WITHOUT ANY INTERRUPTION. I put the dog in the bathroom and open the door.)

Me: “Yes?”

Mailman: *very young mailman, about my age* “Are you [Name that’s not my name, and not even close to it, and also male]?

Me: “…No.”

Mailman: “Is this [address that is obviously not mine, since we live right next to the road sign and have our address on our mailbox, which is literally right in front of him]?”

Me: “No.”

Mailman: “Oh. Sorry, then I’m at the wrong address!”

Me: “Ah. Have a nice day.” *noticing that he doesn’t leave* “Is there something else?”

Mailman: “Can I have your number?”

Me: “Don’t know. Can you read?”

Mailman: *looking genuinely confused* “Yes, I can?”

Me: “Then, please read this sign on the door. Have a nice day. I’m going to calm my dog down and sleep.”

(The dog needed another HOUR to stop barking and going crazy. What a nice day.)

(This conversation was heard between one of my coworkers at the computer desk and a user.)

User: “I dropped my phone, and the screen broke. Can you fix it?”

Coworker: “Is this a company phone?”

User: “No, it’s my personal phone.”

Coworker: “Then, I’m sorry, but I can’t fix this. Because it’s not one of our standard models, we’d have to order parts for it that we don’t have in stock, and we can’t do that for a personally owned phone. You’d have to take it to an Apple Store to be repaired.”

User: “Oh, I don’t want to bother them. It’s only a few minor files that I need to get off it. It’s not worth putting them to the trouble. Can’t you just fix it now?”

Coworker: “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

User: “But I’ll lose all my files!”