Jason Momoa is filming a movie in the town where my college is located. I am walking to the main tourist square to grab lunch and I am behind two young men around my age. I happen to overhear their conversation.

Guy #1: “Are you sure this will work?”

Guy #2: “Absolutely! Look he’s like seven feet tall, right? So we’ll easily be able to spot him. Then, we strike up a friendly conversation and invite him out for beers. Next thing you know, we’re best friends with Khal freaking Drogo, man!”

I’m at the library, carrying a lot of books.

Random Woman: “Wow! That’s a lot of books! You must want to escape life a lot!”

I have a friend who’s the kindest person in the world but not always the smartest.

I invite her, her husband, and a couple of other friends over to celebrate my birthday with me and my husband and daughters. My daughters are vegan. My invitation, which I send out via email, says:

Me: “Don’t bring anything! No presents except your presence, and we have the food all taken care of. There’ll be pizza, appetizers, and two kinds of cake: one vegan for our daughters, and one non-vegan for everyone else.”

[Friend] replies to the email.

Friend: “Sounds great! See you then.”

On the day of the party, [Friend] arrives with her husband and hands me an enormous, very heavy container.

Me: “What’s this?”

Friend: “It’s homemade cheesecake! Remember how you said that you wanted me to bring dessert?”

She then looks behind me and sees the two cakes, and her face falls.

Friend: “Oh… you have dessert?”

I try to respond as kindly as I can.

Me: “Well, yes, but that’s okay. More dessert is always good, and I love cheesecake.”

Friend: “And the best part is that your daughters will be able to eat it.”

Me: “Um, no, I’m afraid they won’t.”

Friend: “Sure, they will!”

Me: “Oh, is it a vegan cheesecake?”

Friend: “Yes! Nothing but pure, natural ingredients: butter, cream cheese, and sour cream.”

Me: “I’m really sorry, but they won’t be able to eat it. Those ingredients aren’t vegan.”

Friend: “They’re not?”

The icing on the cake, so to speak, was that she hadn’t given the cheesecake enough time to bake. It was raw and gooey in the middle. Turns out that she’d woken up that morning, somehow got it into her head that I’d asked her to bring dessert, and frantically threw a cheesecake together as quickly as possible.

She meant well.

I’ve been shopping with my husband. My seven-month-old is tired and fussy, so he drops us off at a coffee shop so I can breastfeed her whilst he finishes our shop. The only seat left is next to their loud vintage coffee machine and it keeps startling her from her feed.

As I sit, I watch a couple of older ladies point and snicker at a transgender woman who is minding her own business. They’re loudly commenting on her hair, dress, and stature, clearly unhappy with her even existing.

A table with an upholstered chair comes available and I get up, ready to move, as I’m struggling to carry my toddler — still feeding — and bags. The ladies loudly tut at me and sigh about “young mothers and unfortunate degenerates.”

All of a sudden, a chair is thrown back and the woman they were commenting on takes hold of my bags and coffee and makes a path for me to the table. She settles us down without saying anything, smiles at my copious thanks, and goes back to her table without any fuss.

Suddenly, a loud comment is directed at me.

Woman: “She could have asked if you needed help. How rude!”

Me: “At least she helped! You just bloody stay there, you miserable, small-minded cow! Enjoy your coffee and leave us ‘unfortunate degenerates’ alone.”

They silently finished their coffee and left. When my husband came back, I explained and he also thanked the kind woman. She refused all offers of thanks but reaffirmed my belief in humanity. Wherever you are, thank you!

I am sitting on a bench reading a book. As it is old, my mother has made it a plastic cover to protect the original from fading. There’s a group of men on a nearby bench, and one of them has been glaring at me and making comments to his friends that I can’t quite hear. I’m starting to get uncomfortable and decide it is best to leave, but as soon as I close my book, the man gets up and trots up to me.

Man: “Hey, you haven’t been reading that long. What, did something happen to your favorite fairy?”

Me: “My… what?”

Man: “Do you actually think vampires are all shiny and broody like that? God, all you teen girls like the same trash.”

I stare at him, trying to process what is happening, and then it finally hits me. The plastic cover of my book is black, and this guy probably confused it with a rather trashy popular vampire novel. I take my book back out, remove the cover and show it to him.

Me: “Actually, this is a collection of Lovecraft’s works. I also carry Dracula with me, since I am almost done with this one.”

Man: “Oh… um, those are… very good reads… I, um…”

He stuttered all the way back to his bench, where his friends were pretending not to know him. 

For the record, I dislike [Popular Novel] with a passion, but I do not attack people for reading it. Hey, at least they read.