(I’m sitting in a restaurant, and the only other occupant is a guy in a suit who hasn’t ordered anything. Instead, he’s reading a book. When I’m halfway done with my meal, a girl a few years younger than him with badly-done makeup comes in and nervously makes her way to his booth before speaking in a deep voice.)

Girl: “Um… Hi?”

(He looks up from his book and immediately blinks in shock. Slowly, he closes his book and tosses it to the side.)

Guy: “This isn’t a one-time thing, is it?”

(The girl says something that I can’t hear. After a moment, the guy points at the booth opposite him, and she settles down. I start to get worried because the guy’s face is completely even.)

Guy: “So, uh, are you going all the way with this?”

Girl: “I’m saving up for the surgery, yeah.”

Guy: “Ah.”

(There is a long pause before the girl speaks again.)

Girl: “I wanted to come out to all of you before my family.”

Guy: “Smart.”

(He takes a slow breath, and when he speaks, he sounds almost angry.)

Guy: “This is going to be hard for you. I cannot understand trans.”

Girl: *quietly* “I’m sorry.”

Guy: “I cannot at all. I’ve tried, and I can’t wrap my brain around it.”

(The girl lowers her head, and the guy remains silent for a little bit. I’m afraid that I’m going to have to chase a crying woman out of the restaurant to comfort her when he speaks again.)

Guy: “So. No trans. You’re a girl now.”

(The girl’s head snaps up.)

Girl: “What?”

Guy: “You heard me. I can’t help you with any trans stuff, and I got to ask that unless someone is threatening you, we don’t talk about it. You’re a girl now. I’ll help you with girl stuff, listen to you complain about sexist guys or catty girls, or whatever. Other than that, the only thing different is that you have to put up with me calling you Darlin’.”

Girl: *near tears* “But you said…”

Guy: “Oh, no! My dude buddy is now a dudette buddy! I can handle you being a girl, but I can’t figure out the… in-between stage. You’re my friend, and you’re going to need someone who’ll treat you like the woman you are, not the dude you were that’s becoming a woman. So, you’re a woman now, and that’s final.”

Girl: “Thank you…”

Guy: “Oh, don’t thank me yet! Dear God, woman! That jewelry! Is that costume jewelry? No. No! None of my lady friends wear that unless it’s on stage. No, we’re getting you some real stuff as soon as we have some cheesecake, do you understand me?”

Girl: “You don’t—“

Guy: “Nyet! Nein! Negative! This isn’t up for negotiation! Fight me on this, and I’ll help you with your wardrobe, too!” *calls out to the waitress* “I need two slices of cheesecake, please!”

Girl: “You’re a jerk.”

Guy: “We’ve been friends for how many years now, and you’re just now learning this? Now, I think you’re more of a silver girl than a gold girl…”

(Until the two of them left, I couldn’t help but smile over his antics. By the time I finished my meal, he was already coming up with the best way to inform some of their friends, warning her that just showing up in makeup wasn’t the best way for a few of them, and offering to be there with her for support. While I don’t think that he reacted the best way, the fact that he was so excited about helping her warmed my heart. I only regret not having gotten their bill when I left.)

(When I was around four or five, my parents, my grandparents, and I are on a small trip through Canada. When we decide to stop at a steakhouse restaurant for lunch, my grandmother quietly complains about everyone smoking inside, despite the fact that there are “NO SMOKING” signs everywhere. This was nearly 20 years ago, so I assume the smoking laws — even in Canada — were not as strict. She doesn’t kick up a fuss or bother anyone about it, but she does continue muttering about it while she looks at the menu. Being a rule follower myself — and having smokers for parents who are very strict about smoking areas — this bothers me, as well. I ask to be excused from the table. My family allows it, thinking that I am just going to go play at the arcade. Nope. I approach one of the tables where an older couple is smoking, and I point at the “NO SMOKING” sign hanging on the wall. Mind you, we are placed pretty much in the middle of the restaurant. A little American girl in a white, frilly dress approaching a table of strangers is very noticeable.)

Me: *in a loud voice* “Excuse me, but isn’t that a ‘No Smoking’ sign on the wall?”

(Conversations go silent. The man frowns while the woman awkwardly laughs and says:)

Woman: “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Me: “Then why are you smoking?”

(The couple looked at me, then at each other, and then doused their cigarettes on a plate they were using as an ashtray. The rest of the patrons followed suit, and I happily thanked the couple before going back to my table. My grandmother was super proud and my grandpa snickered. My parents, on the other hand, decided that we needed to eat quickly and leave because it was hunting season.)

(I am playing a popular computer game with, among other things, multiple “classes” you can play as, such as Offense or Tank, and a voice chat system. The character I chose is a Support character, meaning she can heal other characters. The game is going well, and I notice that one of my teammates is at critical health.)

Me: *over voice chat* “Okay, [Teammate #1], I’ll be right over to heal you up.”

Teammate #1: “No, I don’t want your healing!”

Me: “All right…You do you…”

Teammate #1: “Hey! Hey! I’m dying over here! A little help!?”

Me: “Yup, be right over!”

Teammate #1: “Not you, b****!”

Me: “I – What? That’s rude! Besides, I am the only healer on the team! If you don’t want my healing, you are well and truly screwed.”

Teammate #2: “Dude, let her help you.”

Teammate #1: “I don’t want her f****** help! But can someone heal me?”

Me: “I’m not even going to try to help you.”

Teammate #1: *dies*

(I decided to make a pair of dark green boxer shorts as a gift to one of our friends for Christmas. He mentions them to me four months later.)

Friend: “I love those boxers and have been wearing them every night, but they’ve turned my sheets green.”

Me: “The dye ran? That’s odd, because I used the same fabric to make [Husband] a pair and we haven’t had a problem with them. What have you used to wash them?”

Friend: “I haven’t washed them.”

Me: “You haven’t washed them in four months? What about your sheets?”

Friend: “No, was I supposed to?”

(I worked out right there why he was single.)

(I’m a broke college student living in central Florida where everything is overpriced due to the major theme parks here, on top of a great many other things. My friend texts me and my boyfriend one day.)

Friend: “Hey, want to go on a road trip? My boyfriend and I are thinking of going to the beach. It could be a double date!”

Me: “Oof, sorry. We don’t have any money to spare.”

Friend: “No! We won’t have to spend anything. We can bring food from home, and we’ll just make it a day trip, so no hotels! We can even carpool!

Me: “Let me check with [Boyfriend].”

(He says sure, as long as we aren’t staying overnight and aren’t planning on buying a bunch of junk food.)

Me: “Okay, we’re good. When would we go?”

Friend: “This Saturday.”

Me: “All right, great.”

(That weekend rolls around, and she texts us again.)

Friend: “When are y’all picking us up?”

Me: “Er, we figured you’d be driving.”

Friend: “No, we can’t pay for all that gas.”

(I want to strangle her, but at that point, we’ve already gotten ready, had another friend pick up our dog, and prepared our food, so we just let it go and pick them up. However…)

Friend: *at the trunk of our car* “There’s not enough space back here for our tent.”

Me: “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be bringing it, since it’s so nice outside, and it’s just the four of us.”

Friend: “Four? No, [Her Boyfriend]’s sister and her girlfriend are coming, too!”

Me: “Really? Okay.”

(It’s not. I’m seriously mad.)

Friend: “At least they said they aren’t bringing much. It should all fit at their feet.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Friend’s Boyfriend: *walking up to hear the last bit* “They were supposed to take the third row in your car. I thought that was why you offered?”

Me: “I didn’t offer, and I didn’t even know your sister was coming!”

(My friend’s boyfriend was livid. We did go on the trip, but it was tense. All SIX of us in one car, with a ton of stuff? No, thanks. No surprise, about a month later her boyfriend broke up with her because she pulled a similar stunt with his parents, making them pay for an expensive surprise party for him.)