(I’m waiting in line for a ride with a nine-year-old autistic boy that I babysit. His father and grandmother are with us. The boy starts to enter the ride before all of the people have exited.)

Me: *to autistic boy* “Sweetie, come back here, please. Come back. You need to stay back here.”

Employee: “He can’t be in there.”

Me: “I know, just give me a moment. ”

(The employee grabs the boy by the arm and takes him back outside the gate and points to the other employee.)

Employee: “You can’t go in there until the lady says you can. Okay? Do you understand me?!”

Father: “He’s autistic. He isn’t going to answer you.”

Employee: “I know, but you still have to talk to them!” *to autistic boy* “Do you understand? You wait until the lady tells you you can go in. Understand? Understand?!”

Father: “I just said he was autistic!”

Employee: “BUT YOU STILL HAVE TO TALK TO THEM!” *walks off to the ride he actually works on*

Me: *to father* “Did that just happen?”

Father: “He probably yells at deaf people, too.”

(I mainly work in the electrical department of my store. I pass by a coworker who is unloading a palette.)

Coworker: “Hey, [My Name], do you think you could take the lighting stuff off of this palette before I take it over to Garden?”

(I couldn’t help myself.)

Me: “You need to get rid of some electrical stuff? That’s too bad. I got 99 problems and a switch ain’t one of ’em.”

(I have a summer job on a construction site sweeping work areas, sorting materials and such. One day my coworker and I—both underpaid temps passing time until college classes start again—have been asked to sweep the floor in an area where the construction team is installing the air conditioning system.)

Boss: *to my coworker and me* “You need to be careful because we don’t want dust in the system, so work slow.”

Coworker: “You won’t have to tell us twice, sir. We can do slow!”

(We start sweeping the area slowly. After some time, the boss comes by.)

Boss: “Guys, you really need to go slower. There is too much dust in the air.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but there are a lot of people working here. We are taking it really easy, but we can’t tell the dust to get on the floor.”

Boss: “Well, just slow down. Take it REALLY easy!”

Me: “Sure, we can slow down!”

(We take it down even further as the boss leaves. After all, when the boss tells you to work slower you don’t say no!)

Coworker: “This is the first time I’ve ever heard someone apologize to the boss for not slacking off enough!”

(Soon after, the boss comes back again to check up.)

Boss: “There I still too much dust in the air. You guys really need to go slower!”

Me: “Well, I think that if we go slower you need to make a time-lapse video to see us moving. Are you sure about this?”

Coworker: “Yeah, not that I’m complaining, but we aren’t exactly the only ones here who can stir up the dust. We should probably sweep the whole area before the day is over.”

Boss: “No problem. Just get as far as you can get, but make sure you go really slow this time.”

(The boss leaves again, and we are trying to figure out how we can slow down even further and still actually do anything. Once again, as the boss finishes his rounds, he checks up on us again.)

Boss: “Well, it’s getting better, but can you please slow down even more?”

Me: “I am honestly not sure if I can do that. We are barely moving as it is, and I think we were just passed by a snail.”

Boss: “Well, try anyway. It’s getting better, so keep up the good work!”

Coworker: *after the boss leaves* “I love this job.”

(I am ordering fried chicken in the drive thru of a very popular franchise that specializes in fried chicken. I order the 12 piece meal which is $28.99 and comes with three sides and a free cake, and drive up to the window.)

Employee: “Your total $36.xx.”

Me: “Why? The menu says $28.99.”

Employee: “There’s tax on it.”

Me: “The tax is not that much.”

Employee: “The tax is $2.14.”

Me: “Yes, but that doesn’t add up to $36.”

Employee: “Yes it does, ma’am!”

Me: “No, it actually doesn’t.”

Employee: “HOLD ON!”

(A few moments later, the manager comes to the window.)

Manager: “There’s tax, ma’am.”

Me: “I’m aware of that, but the total doesn’t add up.”

Manager: “The tax is $2.14…”

Me: “Right…”

Manager: “And the meal is $28.99…”

Me: “Uh huh…”

Manager: “So your total is $36.xx.”

Me: *waits*

(I notice the light bulb go on in the manager’s face, and he presses some buttons before turning to the employee.)

Manager: *to employee* “You put in the wrong d*** cake!”

(I’m Australian and have an accent.)

Coworker: “You sound funny. Where are you from? Boston?”

Me: “Australia.”

Coworker: “Really? You still live there?”

(I think my coworker is just trying to be funny, so I play along.)

Me: “Yup! It’s such a long drive for work every day.”

Coworker: “Oh my God, I bet! What time do you have to leave home to get here on time?”

(I still carry on with the joke, but I’m starting to suspect she may actually be serious.)

Me: “Oh, it’s not too bad. Only takes a couple of hours.”

Coworker: “How awesome! You SO have to have a barbecue one day! I have always wanted to go to Australia!” *walks off*

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