My grandma is the type of person that if you tell her something she doesn’t like or doesn’t want to hear, she just ignores you and keeps reiterating that she’s right. 

It’s Christmas time, and I am feeling really lazy this year. Since I’m going to be having surgery at the beginning of December, I choose not to put up a tree knowing I probably won’t be able to take it down later with my weight lifting restrictions. I decide to instead just put up a Festivus pole. I don’t really celebrate Christmas to begin with, so it works for me. 

Later, my family is holding their pre-Christmas party, and I’m not attending as I’m still recovering, but my grandma and my uncle come up to visit.

Grandma: “I see you didn’t finish putting up your tree. Do you want me to come over and do it?”

Me: “No, I’m not putting up a tree this year. It’s a Festivus pole.”

Grandma: “What do you mean, you’re not putting up a tree? You already have the base up. Don’t worry; I’ll be over to help.”

Me: “No. I’m not putting up a tree. That’s not a base; that’s the finished product.”

Grandma: “But what will you put up instead of that, then?”

Uncle: “Mom, you’re not understanding. This is from Seinfeld. That’s what it’s meant to look like. It’s complete, so stop trying to needle yourself in.”

Later on, my grandma is complaining to my mom about my unfinished tree. 

Mom: “She’s not doing Christmas this year. She’s just doing Festivus, so there is no tree.”

Grandma: “But she has a sign up above the unfinished tree saying ‘Merry Christmas’!”

Mom: “I know what sign you’re talking about because she sent us a picture. It clearly says ‘Happy Festivus’.”

Grandma: “No, I know what I saw. I just don’t understand why she won’t let me help her decorate her tree!”

Thankfully, I recovered quickly from my surgery, so I didn’t have to worry about her stopping over all the time to “check up on me”, which was just her trying to finish decorating my tree.

My town has a small local business that is a witchy shop selling crystals, tarot cards, teas, etc. They are having an event for new products, and I go as I’m planning to pick up a gift for my sister.

While there, I spot a beautiful piece in a case that has a note asking for assistance if you would like to look at one.

I ask the owner for help, and I inform her of the one I would like to purchase. As she’s taking it out, she says this:

Owner: “Oooh, good choice. And you’re lucky; this one hasn’t been licked yet.”

Upon seeing my absolutely confused expression, she explains.

Owner: “You can tell if Halite is genuine by licking it because it’s literally just table salt. We’ve caught people licking some of them, which is why they’re now in a case. But like I said, don’t worry; this one is safe.”

My store has recently announced that we, the employees, are no longer allowed to have water bottles on the floor with us. Everyone is pissed. It gets super hot in the summer, and you exert a lot of energy unloading the truck and stocking shelves, so it’s annoying to have to stop what you’re doing and walk to the break room to grab a drink if you want one. 

I have to go to a fast medical clinic for some random reason, and while I’m there, I decide to shoot my shot.

Me: “Hey, would it be okay for you to write me a doctor’s note saying I’m allowed to have water with me at my job?”

Doctor: “Wait, they seriously won’t let you have water unless you get a note?”

Me: “They just implemented this rule. They haven’t said anything about a doctor’s note, but I figure it must be a loophole.”

She happily writes me a note that says, “[My Name] must have water on them at all times,” because if a person wants to stay hydrated, that doctor sure isn’t going to complain.

I arrive at work and present my note. Later, a coworker spots me with my drink on the floor.

Coworker: “How did you get away with that?”

Me: “Doctor’s note. I just asked, and they wrote it in a way so I would have to have water on me and not have to keep it in the back.”

Suddenly, there was an influx of people coming in with doctor’s notes that said they needed water on their person at all times. It got to the point that management got rid of the rule.

It was a stupid idea to begin with, but I’m mad that so many people had to waste money to get the doctor’s notes to be able to drink water.

I am dropping off my car at a nearby shop to get some cosmetic work done on it. I have asked my grandma, who lives next to me, if she can pick me up at the shop — a twenty-minute drive — and drop me off at the car rental place that’s on the way back. She agreed, and I texted her the address and told her I would call her when she should leave as I didn’t know how long we would have to go over the details before handing off my keys. 

Me: “Hey, I’m almost to the shop; now should be a good time for you to leave.”

Grandma: “I’m already here.”

Me: “Why? I told you I would call you.”

Grandma: “I had to go shopping this morning and figured I would drive straight here, so I’ve been waiting for you for an hour.”

I don’t say anything because I have long given up on her level of crazy and just drive to the shop. I pull in, and… she’s nowhere to be seen. I call her again.

Me: “Where are you?”

Grandma: “I’m at the shop. Where are you?”

Me: “You’re at the wrong address. I’m standing by a sign advertising the business name, so don’t even bother trying to say I’m at the wrong place.”

Grandma: “Well, where is it, then?”

Me: “When you turned onto the road, it was the first turn on the left. I’m right across from the cemetery.”

Five minutes later, she calls me back.

Grandma: “You told me wrong. I drove past the cemetery and didn’t see anything.”

Me: “No, I said across from the cemetery. I’m staring at it now. I’m standing in the middle of the driveway, and you can see me from the road.”

Finally, she pulls in.

Grandma: “You gave me the wrong address. You said it’s 426, but this is 428.”

Me: “No, I didn’t. Google Maps says 426, the mailbox says 426, and the business says 426. You think they all got it wrong, but you somehow know better?”

Grandma: “No, you gave me the wrong address.”

I work for a law firm that specializes mainly in bankruptcy. Recently, we sent out several letters to companies that a debtor made payments to; under bankruptcy laws, the company we represent is able to reclaim some of the payment amount back.

One day, I get a phone call.

Me: “Good afternoon, [Law Offices].”

Caller: “Hi. My company just received a letter from you guys, and I’ve never seen a letter formatted like this before, so I wasn’t sure if it was fraud or not.”

Me: “Do you want to tell me what the letter is in reference to, so I can verify if we sent it out or not?”

Caller: “No, because then I can’t be sure if you’re still a legitimate company.”

Me: “If you want, you can look at our website to see that we are a legitimate law office. By any chance is this related to [Company] and [bankruptcy number]? We sent out several letters not too long ago.”

Caller: “I’m still not saying. I’m going to talk to my boss to see how to proceed.”

Me: “Okay, but as I said, if this is related to that bankruptcy, this letter is legitimate.”

He ends up calling back later and, realizing that we are a real law office, he can verify what the letter is about.

Caller: “So, you’re going to give us back some money that we paid?”

Me: “No. If you actually read the letter, it’s pretty clear that we’re asking for money from you. I’m going to transfer you to the lawyer handling the case now.”

Sadly, he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t read the letter and thought we were going to be giving them money instead of the other way around.