(My friends and I are on our way back from a night out. There’s three of us, and we’ve all had a few drinks, although we’re not drunk. However, a random guy decides it’s the perfect opportunity to mug us, right as I’m changing from heels into my normal shoes, so he probably only notices my friend’s boyfriend. Please note that the man has a pocket knife.)

Man: “Money and phone, a**h***.”

(I straighten up, look the guy dead in the eye and push my handbag into my friend’s arms. Among my friends I’m quite famous for having a death glare, but apparently I have cranked it up to new heights.)

Me: “You’d better leave right now or I’ll make sure you’ll get acquainted to your own a**h***. Spines are surprisingly flexible when you break them several times.”

(While saying that, in the most icy and calm voice I have ever achieved, I nonchalantly put on some fake, but real-looking brass knuckles that are still in my coat from a play I took part in. For about three seconds, the dude and I just stare at each other, then I shrug, smile, and take a step forward to raise my fist. And he RUNS faster than I’ve ever seen anyone run. My friends just stare at me for a moment.)

Friend: “S***. I knew you were psycho, but not that psycho.”

Boyfriend: “How the f*** did you think it was a good idea to attack a dude with a knife with only brass knuckles?! Do you know martial arts or something?”

Me: “Nope. And those are fake.”

(A few minutes later, I started shaking and the shock kicked in, and I’m pretty sure I actually got hysterical. But my friends still talk about how cool it was when I made a mugger dash. And I actually took up Jiu Jitsu after that. I definitely wouldn’t recommend doing stupid s*** like that to everyone. Had he been a little more courageous, he probably would have stabbed me.)

(I’ve found a mobile phone in the car park of a major shopping centre. I look through the contacts and find one named “Dad”.)

Me: “Hi, I’m just letting you know that I’ve found one of your kids’ mobile phones.”

Father: “How do you know it’s my kid’s phone?”

Me: “This number was under ‘Dad’ in the contacts.”

Father: “Oh, okay, so what do you want me for?”

Me: “I just wanted to tell you that I’m handing the phone into the centre management of [Major Shopping Centre].”

Father: “Never heard of it.”

Me: “It’s in [Suburb].”

Father: “What would my kids be there for? Are you sure it’s their phone?”

Me: “Uh, yes, unless someone else has put your number under ‘Dad’ on their phone.”

Father: “I don’t understand what you want. My kid would never go there.”

Me: “I’m letting you know where the phone is so someone knows and it can be picked up.”

Father: “I don’t understand how you think it’s one of my kid’s phones.”

Me: “I’ve already told you, why not just ask them if they’ve lost one?”

Father: *getting angry at me* “But which kid, can’t you tell me?”

Me: “You know what? I’m telling you where the phone is going to be and am done with this. You can pick it up or not, I don’t care.” *hangs up*

(This is two weeks after a popular bridal chain has closed its doors, sending brides into a panic. I myself am a bride-to-be, and have been lucky enough to have gotten my gown before the chain closed. I am at the seamstress’s shop for my final fitting and pick-up. Just after my mother has taken the obligatory “bride with her gown bag” photo in front of the shop, another car pulls up and a woman comes running over.)

Woman: “Excuse me!”

Me: “Yes?”

Woman: “Your dress is a [Brand Name]!” *she points to the logo on the bag*

Me: “Yes, it is. I suppose I was lucky it came before they closed.”

(I start to put the dress in my car.)

Woman: “Wait!”

(I stop, thinking she may want to peek at it.)

Me: “Yes?”

Woman: “Let me have your dress!”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Woman: “Let me have your dress. I’m getting married in a couple of weeks and I want a [Brand Name]!”

Me: “No.”

Woman: “What do you mean ‘no’?”

Me: “I mean no, I won’t give this to you.” (I hang up the dress and shut the door, which automatically locks my car.)

Woman: “You don’t need it, you already got married! You just had it cleaned!”

Me: “No, I’m not married yet. I am picking up my gown after alterations to store it until my wedding in two months. Have you looked online to see if someone is selling what you want?”

(She ignores me.)

Woman: “I’ll borrow it!”

Me: “No.”

Woman: “You HAVE to let me borrow it!”

Me: “No, I don’t. My property is my property.”

Woman: “You’re a greedy b****!”

Me: “To you, maybe. I’m not lending out my dress before my wedding. There’s too much risk that it will be ruined or not come back, which would leave me stuck. After the wedding, I may, if it’s someone I know who is local. I’m not sure yet. I’d love to keep it for any daughter I may have who wants to wear it. Have you tried looking online?”

Woman: “Then I’ll just take it!”

(The woman walks over to my car and starts pulling on the handle, and falls when it doesn’t open and the force causes her to lose balance.)

Woman: “Open this door. I want that dress.”

Me: “No.”

Woman: “Open it.”

Me: “No. Lady, get away from my car. If you want one so badly, look online in buy/trade/borrow groups. There are so many brides willing to help those who lost their dresses in the closure. I also don’t think you’ve taken one look at me, because I’m a solid foot shorter than you with much larger boobs. My dress wouldn’t fit you!”

Woman: “Oh look, the cops came pretty quick!”

(The woman got up and tried to tell the cops I was stealing her dress. They checked my receipts, ID, and registration, and confirmed that it was mine. They kept the woman back so that we could leave unhindered, but the seamstress told me later that they ticketed her for disturbing the peace and ended up having to escort her home so she wouldn’t try to follow me.)

(I am hanging out with a friend of mine when an acquaintance joins us, looking annoyed. I kind of think him to be sort of rude, but my friend seems to like him so I think that it’s just his personality. I am female, while my friend and acquaintance are male.)

Acquaintance: *to Friend* “I saw your sister half an hour ago.”

Friend: “Oh, yeah? How is she?”

Acquaintance: “All right. We were talking about Star Wars.”

Me: “Cool! Y’know, I hadn’t seen The Force Awakens when it was in theaters, but last night-”

Acquaintance: “Where did YOU know about Star Wars?”

Me: “Uh, well from [Friend] and [Friend’s Sister], actually.”

Acquaintance: “Tch, figures. Knew it would be, anyway.”

(I don’t know what that means, but am already put off from his behavior towards me. My friend’s also confused by that reply so he tries to defuse the tension.)

Friend: “Well, yeah! [Sister] and I are huge nerds. My sister’s actually more-”

Acquaintance: “Oh, by the way, who introduced YOU to Star Wars?”

Friend: “What?”

Acquaintance: “Who introduced you?”

Friend: “I, uh… wow, I’ve never really thought of that. My mom? I guess? Yeah. We have the originals on VHS but she’s not as obsessed with the material.

Me: “What are you talking about? She’s a waaay bigger nerd than the both of you!”

Friend: “Not with sci-fi! And she doesn’t go to cons like us.”

Me: “She does tabletop and LARPs!”

(We laugh, except for Acquaintance who just… stares at us. We stop, and there’s an awkward moment of silence until Acquaintance narrows his eyes.)

Acquaintance: “You talked to your f****** sister before this, huh?”

(With that, he slung his bag over his shoulder and left. We had no idea what the hell set him off and why he was being so sketchy until we talked to my friend’s sister. Apparently, they were sharing an okay chat until he saw her Stormtrooper pin and began interrogating her about what she knew to figure out if she was a “real fan.” She had basically said the same thing about their mother and he vehemently disagreed with her, somehow knowing the “truth” that it was her brother that introduced her. She made a crack about that meaning her brother learned everything through osmosis and dared him to ask her brother for himself. He apparently did and, for all we know, is still entirely convinced that Sister had warned us to help him make a fool of himself. We don’t hang out with him anymore and he always makes a sour face when we accidentally see each other around campus.)

(My dad posts this on a hiking page for the local national park on Facebook:)

Dad: “Quick question. How far is it from mile marker 50 to mile marker 51?”

(Cue dozens of responses in the vein of “Seriously?” and “One mile.”)

Dad: “I wasn’t drunk, nor was I delusional, when I asked. Crazy? That’s for others to decide. It is approx 8/10ths of a mile between those two mile markers.”

(He then went on to explain that at one point, the road had been shortened by cutting out a loop in the road to create more parking for one of the hiking trails. Rather than move the next 55 mile markers by 2/10ths of a mile, they left that one short.)