(I mistakenly mention that I have some experience in a piece of software that my company uses, even though I make it clear I only have basic knowledge I am now suddenly the company’s ‘expert.’)

Boss: “Why haven’t you sorted out the software issue on [machine].)

Me: “…Err, like I mentioned, I’m not 100%—

Boss: *interrupting* “It’s easy; you just call them up. I don’t understand why you are having such a hard time about this…”

(He continues getting more condescending, despite knowing nothing about the software himself.)

Boss: “I mean, if I had to do it, it would only take an hour. Come on. They do all the work for you.”

(I have had about enough.)

Me: “For your information, there are several packages. Any number of these could work but won’t because of future limitations. Even if you did manage to choose the right fit the whole system has to be harmonised, or it won’t work. And no, the company acts as a third party so it doesn’t know about the system they are selling.”

(A moment of silence.)

Boss: “Well, I still think—”

Me: “—No , just no. If you would like to do this yourself I would be more than happy to learn from you. But this is the way it is.”

(He never did show me how to do my job and when I did finally manage to get all the information sorted the system worked perfectly.)

(My grandparents do not have a computer, and live in a rural area. It is a long way to the closest library with a computer lab. My grandfather is scheduled to have a surgery and has been getting automated phone calls from the hospital telling him to go to their website to fill out a form. He can’t go to the website, but he can’t explain that on the phone. He and my grandmother finally decide to go to the hospital and talk to someone. My grandmother can be very aggressive and does all the talking.)

Receptionist: “How can I help you?”

Grandmother: “My husband is supposed to have eye surgery in a few weeks. We’ve been getting phone calls telling us to go online and fill out some form, but we do not have a computer and can’t fill out the form.”

Receptionist: “Then you need to call the automated help line. You can locate the number on our website.”

Grandmother: “We can’t go to the website! We don’t have a computer.”

Receptionist: “If you’re having trouble filling out the form, you need to call the helpline. The phone number is on our website if you’d just—”

Grandmother: “Can’t you just give us the number for the helpline?”

Receptionist: “It’s really very easy to find on the website. When you get to our homepage, there is a box in the top right corner with the helpline phone number.”

Grandmother: “You’re not understanding what I’m saying! We cannot go to the website because we do not have a computer! Is there some other way to do the form?”

Receptionist: “The only way to complete the form without doing it online is through the helpline. The number is on the website.”

Grandmother: “I know it’s on the website! You keep saying that!”

Receptionist: “Then I don’t see what the problem is. I’ve told you where to find the helpline. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Grandmother: “You didn’t help us at all!”

(Finally another receptionist showed up, hearing my grandmother yelling. She got on the website and helped my grandfather fill out the form right there. The other receptionist acted like she had no idea why my grandmother was mad at her.)

(This afternoon I discovered that my boss, a financial attorney, has been seeing a psychic for the last six months because he’s afraid of what will happen to his firm with the recent changes in mortgage law. Evidently, he believes everything this woman says.)

Boss: “She even mentioned you by name!” *tells me the name*

Me: “Yeah, that’s not my given name. It sounds like it should be, but it isn’t.”

Boss: “But she had her own radio show! What do you mean you don’t believe what she says?!”

(My grandmother has recently died, leaving me as the executor of her estate. I see that she had a small investment account with [Small East Coast Bank]. When I call the number on the statement, I discover that this bank had been recently acquired by [Big Bank]. I go to my local branch of [Big Bank] to ask how I can prove her death so as to get the account delivered to whomever is the named beneficiary. I approach the teller.)

Me: “Hello, I need to report the death of an investment account holder so you can close the account.”

Teller: “Oh, I’ve never had to do that before. Why don’t you talk to [Banker] over there? She can probably help you.”

Me: “Okay, thank you.”

(I approach Banker’s desk.)

Me: “Hello, I need to report the death of an investment account holder so you can close the account. In case it matters, the account was originally with [Small East Coast Bank] but their phone numbers all tell me to talk to you guys.”

Banker: “Oh, I’ve never had to do that before. Let me go get my manager to ask what our policy is.”

Me: “Okay.”

(She goes to the back, leaves me sitting for 15 minutes, and comes back with Manager.)

Manager: *to me* “I’m sorry. We won’t be able to help you.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Is there a phone number I can call to get this information?”

Manager: “No, we can’t help you.”

Me: “Uh… why not?”

Manager: “We can’t release this information.”

Me: “No, I think you misunderstand. I’m here to report the death of my grandmother. I’m not asking for personal information about her account or access to her money. And if you can only release the information to customers, it might help to know that I’m also a customer with a sizable account here in my own name. All I want is to know what your policy is on how I am to prove that [Grandma] has died so that you can deliver the funds to the beneficiary named on the account, whose name I neither have nor want nor care about. I have papers with me right here that can prove that I am the executor of her estate. I also have her account number, name, and a death certificate. I even have the username and password for her online banking. But all the website says about the death of an account holder is to contact the bank itself, so that’s why I’m here.”

Manager: “Yes, I understand that. But we still can’t release that information.”

Me: “…So, just to make sure, you’re telling me that your policy regarding the death of an account holder is that you’re not allowed to tell customers or even executors what your policy is regarding the death of account holders?”

Manager: “That’s right.”

(I still have no idea if they were just being lazy or if they didn’t know what the real policy was or if Bank’s policy is actually that they can’t tell anyone what the real policy is. I wound up having the estate lawyer write a letter to their corporate office, whereupon the response let us know what we had to do in order to prove the death.)

(I’m part of a church and we have a religion class during the week for young adults. A group of us usually go out to a nice burger chain restaurant after the class is over to eat and enjoy each others company as most of us only see each other once a week.)

Friend: “Can I get some fries?”

(The fries come out with the rest of our meals. It’s important to know that this restaurant has unlimited fries once you order a basket.)

Friend: “Can I get another basket?”

(Instead of bringing out another basket of fries, the waitress just brings out an empty basket and sets it on the table.)

Friend: “Oh. Well. Okay, then…”

Me: “Well, you did ask for another basket,”