Decades ago, I got yet another visit from a couple of representatives from a particular church. I was standing in the doorway with the screen door between us as they began their pitch. I do find these people annoying and try to save them (and myself!) time by letting them know that I am not the least bit interested as promptly as I can without being full-on butthead rude.

While I was waiting for a break in the conversation so I could spare us all wasted time and effort, my daughter’s black cat walked up next to me, sat down, looked up at me, and meowed.

I had heard that some of these cults were superstitious about black cats. The representatives were paused in their rhetoric upon the arrival of the black cat, just staring at it incredulously. In one of those rare quick-thinking moments, I looked down at the cat and said, “I think the remote is on the sofa.”

As if on cue, the cat stood up and walked around the corner. The representatives just stood there speechless, and I politely told them I was not interested and slowly closed the door.

I never had another representative from their church show up at my door the rest of the years I lived there.

Thanks, Missy the cat. You will always be held in high regard for your actions that day.

I didn’t intend to freak out the door-to-door people. I was just cracking wise, like I do all of the time. I am just not that clever. It just happened to cause them alarm, and since I never had any more visitors from that church, I consider it a happy (though accidental) side effect of a joke.

I live close to a zoo and am a member, so I visit regularly and have come to know the keepers and the animals. I suppose I’ve begun to exude an air of confidence while I am there because people come up to me ALL the time to ask for help with directions, information on the animals, etc.

The fact that the zoo has a very specific uniform and that I’m NOT wearing it should be a tip-off, but oh, well. (One time, I was wearing a bright red Christmas jumper, and even that didn’t act as a deterrent.) I’ve had several interactions which have just been absurd.

Customer: “My son wants to pet this one. Bring it out.”

Me: “I can’t do that, ma’am.”

Customer: “Why not?!”

Me: “Well, for one thing, I don’t work here. For another, that’s an American Alligator, and it will eat your child rather than let him pet it.”

When my dad was seventeen, he did a year of high school in the USA; we’re from The Netherlands.

Classmate: “All foreigners are weird.”

Dad: “Why do you think that?”

Classmate: “It’s weird that you don’t speak English.”

Dad: “Why is that weird?”

Classmate: “It’s useless to make up a sentence and then translate that to a foreign language in your head before saying it out loud.”

Dad: “What do you mean? Wait… Do you think that everyone from other countries thinks their words first in English and then just makes the extra effort to translate it into the language of their country?”

Classmate: “Yeah… don’t you?”

Dad: “Why would we do that?!”

Classmate: “See! I told you! It’s stupid!”

Dad: “It sure is!”

I work for a theme park, and I have decided that I absolutely loathe it when we get school groups coming in. School groups tend to carry meal vouchers, and I’ve decided that I also hate meal vouchers with a passion because dealing with meal vouchers brings out the jerk in everyone. It lists on the back of the voucher what types of meals you can get and where you can get them.

Otherwise, there is a HUGE sign at every other place that is not listed on the back. It states clearly: “BRING YOUR MEAL VOUCHER HERE FOR [MEAL] AND REGULAR DRINK. UPGRADE TO A SOUVENIR BOTTLE FOR $9.99!”

We have three brand-name restaurants in different parts of the park. There is only one that can serve the chicken-strip meal for a voucher. The other two have to serve the cheeseburger meal. That’s how it rings up when we scan the voucher, and that’s what we have to follow due to inventory. Naturally, I am NOT at the chicken strip meal location today.

A huge crowd of shouting kids comes up to the counter all wearing the same school shirt and all waving meal vouchers. They start to toss me a gigantic wad of meal vouchers. I have to scream to be heard.

Me: “Everyone, pick your meal voucher back up! One at a time only. Once I give the person before you their drink, you can hand me your voucher!”

This begins twenty minutes of total madness. When I ask one kid what their drink is, I get fourteen different answers, none from the kid I was talking to.

I also have to move my receipt printer because some kids keep trying to snatch up the receipts as they print. This horribly jams the printer, as it likes to be left alone when it feeds paper.

I finally come to a dad and his daughter.

Dad: “I want the chicken strip meal with this voucher.”

Me: “We only do the cheeseburger meal at this location.”

Dad: “Uh… no. You do chicken strips. It says you accept any meal here.”

Me: “Wow, really? Where does it say that?”

Dad: “On the back of this voucher.”

Me: “That actually says the location in [Cowboy-Themed Location].”

Dad: “This is [Cowboy-Themed Location].”

Me: “This is the [Boardwalk Location].”

Dad: “Wow. You of all people should know this is [Cowboy-Themed Location].”

Me: *Patience is gone* “In order to get here, you walked directly under a flamboyantly colored archway that said, ‘Boardwalk’ in giant letters.”

Dad: “I don’t care! I want chicken strips!”

Me: “There is no option for me at this location to give you chicken strips on a voucher. The voucher will scan as a burger meal only.”

Dad: “GET ME YOUR MANAGER!”

I get my supervisor.

Supervisor: “What’s wrong?”

Dad: “Okay, I’m not even going to begin to talk to you. You’re not a manager.”

Supervisor: “I am the only manager of this restaurant.”

Dad: “Your name tag says supervisor. So, no. Get me a manager.”

Supervisor: “I’ll have to call someone to come over, and even then, it will take a while.”

Dad: “Just do it!”

Supervisor: “Hold your horses; the phone’s in my hand!”

Did I mention that I’m the only cashier and our second cashier isn’t coming in until three? The whole park is completely swamped, but for some reason, they won’t start turning people away even when every square inch of standing room is taken up. I help all the other customers while the dad is standing there trash-talking the park to his daughter.

Finally, the manager shows up.

Dad: “My daughter and I want chicken strips on this voucher.”

Manager: “Follow me. I can help you with that.”

Dad: “Finally!”

Manager: “You’re gonna go left all the way down and then right all the way down to [Cowboy-Themed Location]. If you don’t like that option, we can serve you cheeseburgers here.”

Dad: “I. Don’t. Want. Cheeseburgers!”

Manager: “That’s fine. Let me escort you to [Cowboy-Themed Location].”

Dad: “I don’t want to walk over there.”

Manager: “Then I don’t know what to tell ya, buddy. Those are your only options. If you wanna know where to get anything else on the back of your voucher, don’t hesitate to ask.”

The dad, realizing that nobody was going to budge, muttered something under his breath, but he ended up getting the cheeseburgers after all.

CONTENT WARNING: Pet Death

I’m working the front desk at our veterinary clinic. It’s about 7:45 am; our clinic opened at 7:30 am for surgery drop-offs with our first outpatient appointments scheduled for 8:00 am. We only have a couple of nurses and one doctor until later in the morning.

We have several clients waiting up front to either have their pet processed for surgery or to be brought to a room for exams when an existing client rushes in with her pet in medical distress. I pull her into a room, and all of our medical staff currently present begin life-saving measures.

Then, one of the 8:00 am slots shows up. I let everyone know the situation and inform them that there will be a wait. 8:00 am rolls around, then 8:05, 8:10…

Everyone is very patient and understanding despite having already been there for a while — all except for the newest arrival.

[Client] stands and comes to my desk.

Client: “Hi. My appointment was at 8:00 am. Will it be much longer?”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know. We don’t keep full staff in the morning, so all hands are on deck for the medical emergency right now. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. They are working as fast as they can, but the situation doesn’t look very good.”

Client: “But my appointment was prescheduled. I set it for this time because I work nights! I have to get home and sleep.”

My husband also works nights, so you will get no sympathy here.

Me: “Again, I know it’s frustrating, but the emergency is the priority right now.”

At this moment, a nurse tells me over our headsets that the patient has passed. We have a battery candle next to a sign on the desk informing clients that we have another client losing a pet and asking for quiet during that time when the candle is lit. I excuse myself and light it right in front of the client.

I lower my voice, speaking to the whole waiting area.

Me: “Hi, everyone. The nurses should be up soon to start taking you back now.”

Everyone nods solemnly, having read the sign — except for this lady, who is still hovering at my desk.

Client: “How soon?”

Me: “I’m not sure. They are comforting the other patient, but they should be up very soon now that all staff are not required. These other clients will be assisted first. Are you okay to wait, or would you like to reschedule?”

Client: *Huffs and puffs* “Is there really no one back there that can see my dog really quickly? It’s just a nail trim!”

The look of disgust on the other clients’ faces — as she not only tries to jump the line and shows a complete lack of regard for someone else’s loss but does all of this for a nail trim — is priceless. They look astounded. I, being a NAR reader, am not surprised.

Me: “No, ma’am. Someone is currently saying goodbye to their family member, so a nail trim is not the nurses’ priority. I recommend you reschedule if you cannot wait.”

Client: “Fine! Never mind!”

She storms out.

She calls the office phone IMMEDIATELY after getting to her car to set another day up but also to continue her complaints about how inconvenient it is that she had to wait for “just a nail trim”. I think she was embarrassed to have all these patient people judging her in the waiting room.

The joke is that they can hear me speaking and tell who I am talking to. They all turn to listen as I again explain that an emergency takes precedence over a nail trim and that we have other people here first who are waiting for actual exams. She then tells me that she wishes someone had called to give her a heads-up so she didn’t bother coming out for nothing!

I end by telling her:

Me: “Ma’am, the emergency arrived right before you did, so I would have had to preemptively call you before they even arrived. The day I gain the ability to foresee the future, I will go buy lottery tickets.”

She quickly set a new appointment and hung up after that.