I’m with some friends in a coffee shop I work in after closing. They’re waiting for me to clean up before we all leave together. A lot of our pastries and bread products that are unsold are there for the taking, so I offer some around. One of our friends is a vegan.

Vegan Friend: “Oh, no thanks. I’ve stopped eating bread.”

Me: “Oh, why?”

Vegan Friend: “It’s got yeast in it, and yeast is a living organism. I don’t eat things that are alive.”

Other Friend: “Uh, yeast is a fungus, like mushrooms.”

Vegan Friend: “It’s alive, that’s all that matters. I don’t eat anything considered alive!”

Other Friend: “So, you don’t swallow your saliva then?”

Vegan Friend: “What?”

Other Friend: “Your saliva contains millions of microorganisms, all of them alive. Every time you swallow saliva, you’re consuming millions of living things.”

Vegan Friend: “Well… that’s… that’s different.”

Me: “I feel sorry for all your intestinal bacteria. You’ve enslaved them!”

Vegan Friend: “You guys think you’re being funny but you’re not.”

Other Friend: *To me.* “[My Name], when you bake the bread, can you hear the yeast screaming?”

Me: “I used to, but now I just play the music louder to drown them out.”

Other Friend: “Those poor yeasts.”

We laughed and moved on to a different topic. As I finished cleaning up and we’re heading out to the bar:

Vegan Friend: “Finally! I could murder a beer.” *Pause.* “Why are you all looking at me like that?”

I’m waiting for a bus at a bus stop. A guy standing near me lights up a cigarette.

Me: “Excuse me, you can’t do that at a bus stop. Walk away if you’re smoking.”

The guy angles himself so that his back is to me and the bus stop. He continues smoking.

Me: “Oi! I know you can hear me! Stop smoking! There’s a sign!”

Guy: *Not turning around.* “I can’t see the sign, so it doesn’t apply.”

Me: “That’s not how it works, f***-cake. Put it out or walk away.”

Guy: *Still not turning around.* “Can’t see a sign, so I won’t.”

An old lady with (I assume) her grandson has been sitting at the bus stop. She gets up, walks up behind the man, and whacks him with her handbag. It’s not a hard hit, but it does startle him.

Guy: *Turning around.* “What the f—”

Old Lady: *In a thick Jamaican accent.* “Now you be turnin’ around, and you see the sign you dutty man!”

Guy: “Did you just hit me with your bag?!”

Me: “You didn’t see it happen, so it doesn’t apply.”

Guy: “I’m telling the bus driver what you did when he gets here!”

The guy actually stood there angrily for three minutes until the bus came. He pushed ahead of us to tell the bus driver he’d been assaulted. I then filled in the gaps in the guy’s story for the driver.

Driver: “So what I got from that was, you were illegally smoking at a bus stop in front of a child, asked to stop, refused, and grandma made a move to protect said child. Yeah, not looking good for you, is it mate?”

Guy: “I want you to call the police!”

Driver: “Feel free, from the pavement. I have a route to finish, and my passengers are getting impatient.”

The guy grunts but then tries to get on the bus.

Driver: “Mate, if you think you’re getting on this bus, you’re deluded. You take one more step closer, and I will be the one calling the police.”

He starts swearing loudly, but with everyone against him (now including all the bus passengers), he angrily steps off the bus. He makes a show of getting his phone out as old Jamaican lady, her grandson, and I get on the bus.

Guy: “I’m calling ‘Transport For London’ and reporting you!”

Driver: “You sound stressed, mate. Have a ciggie and calm down.” *Closes bus door and drives off.*

I gave the bus driver my email in case he needed someone to tell the true story to defend him if that guy called to complain.

When I was younger, I dressed like an idiot. I had this one pair of ridiculously comfortable gray corduroy pants, which I loved because they had an embroidered record on the butt. I wore these pants just about every day. I’m short, so the bottoms were all ripped up from dragging on the ground all the time.

I’m at a friend’s place, with her six-year-old daughter sitting next to me. We were watching some show and talking about high heels.

Six-Year-Old: “Why do people wear things that make their feet hurt?”

Me: “Sometimes, you have to sacrifice comfort for beauty.”

Six-Year-Old: *Points to my pants.* “Those must be reeeally comfortable!”

A few years back, I’m swimming with my three-year-old son. We had the pool to ourselves apart from one other lady.

The pool is L-shaped, split into the main bit with lanes, and a square bit that was notionally the kids’ pool, but only because it’s shallower.

My son was learning to swim without armbands, and so we were in the wide lane, while the lady was swimming in the narrow lane, labelled Adults Only.

After one length of my son swimming a whole length with me encouraging him, she says:

Lady: “You can’t swim here; this is adults only.”

Bull-s*** lady, you’re in the adults-only bit. Except, I can’t say that in front of my very eloquent three-year-old.

Me: “It’s just your lane that’s adults only, look, there’s the sign. My son is learning to swim lengths.”

She starts ranting at me about how she pays her membership fees (so do I, funnily enough) and I’m wrong (check the sign) and basically having a tantrum.

Lady, I’m Mum to a three-year-old. I can handle this behaviour, and I’m gonna speak to you exactly as I would to my child, probably in the same tone of voice, because I’m in Mummy mode, and my son is listening.

Me: “I can see you’re upset about this, but I’m very sorry, we are allowed to swim here.”

She rants a bit more, and I very calmly gentle parent her, until she eventually sputters and tells me:

Lady: “Shut up!”

And flounces off.

Son: “Mummy! She just told you to shut up! That’s so rude!”

I made no effort to speak quietly and said:

Me: “Yes, it really was. She was cross because she couldn’t get her own way. But you’re right, it’s very rude to say that to someone.”

We then proceeded to swim a good few more lengths, and I very vocally and cheerfully encouraged him the whole time.

Went to the front desk after to double-check I was right (I was). Apparently, she’d also been to complain and been told to suck it up.

My friend has a habit of announcing his ‘shower thoughts’ out loud at random moments:

Friend: “When you think about it, banana is a really stupid name.”

Me: “Huh?”

Friend: “Ba-na-na. It sounds like a baby trying to learn to speak.”

Me: “I never really thought about it.”

Friend: *Almost angry.* “Banana is the stupidest name for a fruit!”

Me: “Then you’re gonna be really angry when I tell you about Kumquats…”