(My manager is a ridiculously good-looking man, but it makes him uncomfortable especially when the women at our car dealership fawn over him. One night, a young girl—no more than about 19—comes in to buy her first car. It’s customary that the manager comes out and introduces themselves, so while the girl and I are in the middle of our initial small-talk, he walks out and extends his hand for a handshake)

Manager: “Hi, welcome to [dealership]. [My name] will take great care of you.”

(The girl blushes the brightest shade of red I’ve ever seen and shakes his hand.)

Girl: *shyly* “Hi.”

(His job done, my manager turns to walk away, and the girl, forgetting I’m there, stares very hard at his rear as he leaves. She suddenly remembers I’m there, turns even redder, and looks at the ground.)

Girl: “I’m… so… sorry.”

Me: *laughs* “Don’t feel bad, hon. We get it all the time. If it makes you feel any better, all the women here have done the exact same thing at one time or another. I’m guilty of the same thing, trust me!”

(The customer seems to feel a little better, and she laughs with me. I stand up to go do some paperwork, and see my manager is sitting in the area. I decide to rib him a bit.)

Me: “Hey [Manager], thanks for riling up my customers. The poor girl couldn’t stop staring after you when you walked away!”

Manager: “I know. I overheard your conversation.”

(My smile completely disappears.)

Me: “…How much did you hear?”

Manager: “All of it.”

(I couldn’t get out of there fast enough!)

(One of my coworkers is very pregnant and getting very hormonal. One day, she bursts into tears for no reason; none of my male coworkers know what to do.)

Coworker #1: “Oh my God, sweetie! Are you okay? Calm down!”

Pregnant Coworker: *sobs uncontrollably*

Coworker #2: “She can’t talk. What do we do?!”

Coworker #1: “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

Me: “What is going on up here? Honey, are you okay?”

Pregnant Coworker: “N-n-no!”

Coworker #1: “Fix her! Please!”

(I grab a cookie from the nearby case and shove it in the pregnant girl’s mouth before leading her back to the break room to calm down. When I return, the guys are standing around in a daze.)

Me: “Are you guys okay?”

Coworker #1: “I have no idea what just happened.”

Coworker #2: “How did you do that?”

Me: “Just be glad I love you guys, because sometimes you’re useless.”

Coworker: “I’m into these herbal supplements lately. It is not drugs or anything, but they really give me a boost and get me more focused.”

Me: “Um, no drugs?”

Coworker: “Yeah, just Chinese herbs. It can’t be drugs; it is all herbal and all.”

Me: “Sure… remind me: what are opium and marijuana made from?”

(I am a college student and picking up my inhaler from a local pharmacy. I’ve just gotten a new prescription insurance card and need to have the information changed. Since I’m under my parents’ insurance, the card is in my father’s name.)

Me: “I’d like to pick up my prescription and update my insurance.”

(I hand the pharmacy tech the insurance card.)

Tech: “This is under a guy’s name. You’re a girl.”

Me: “Yes, that’s my father’s name. I’m included under his insurance.”

Tech: “So, you’re under your husband’s insurance. Let me see if I can update that.”

Me: “Father, not husband.”

Tech: “What’s your husband’s date of birth?”

Me: “That’s my father, not my husband, and it’s [date].”

Tech: “Wow! You look young to be married to someone that old.”

Me: “For the third time, I am under my father’s insurance. I’m not married.”

Tech: “Oh. Okay. Well, I need to show this to the pharmacist on duty.”

(She walks over to the pharmacist, who is still within my earshot.)

Tech: “Hey, this girl is under her husband’s insurance and I need help updating her info…”

Me: *facepalm*

(I work as a hostess in a popular summer beach town. In this town, in particular, there are a lot of J-1 Student Visa workers, mostly from central and eastern Europe.)

Me: “Hello, can I help you?”

Applicant: “Hi, I was wondering if you were hiring anyone.”

Me: “We’re actually fully staffed right now, but you can always leave your application with us in case something changes.”

(I hand her an application, she fills it out, thanks me, and leaves. I begin looking over the application when my coworker approaches.)

Coworker: “What was that about?”

Me: “Someone was just applying for a job… oh look, they’re from Macedonia! Cool!”

Coworker: “Macedonia? So, doesn’t that just mean they’re natives of Massachusetts?”

Me: “…Sure, let’s go with that.”