Late at night, my grandfather calls me to say my grandmother is having an “episode” and needs me. I hurry over, take one look at her, and call an ambulance; we escort her to the hospital.
My grandmother has become increasingly anxious about getting older and sicker and is visibly shaking and getting upset at the sudden onset of people around her taking blood, canulating, running ECGs, etc. The primary nurse has been professional, but far from warm or personable. My grandmother and I are nurses ourselves — well, Grandma was, years ago — so we totally understand that that happens sometimes.
My grandmother is given a cup of disgusting potassium liquid to drink, which she does quickly, but, in an effort to try and cheer herself up, she says, “Ugh! Wah wah wah! I want a lolly after that!”
The primary nurse disappears out of the room for a minute and returns… holding a rainbow lollipop, which she unwraps and presents to Grandma. She says, still in her serious voice, “That’s for being a brave girl,” and then heads out of the room again.
Grandma was so chuffed she talked about that little gesture for her remaining years.
I was heading in to work one day and saw a man with his children. The man was, shall we say, a beefcake. Super muscular, short-cropped hair, tattoos — a dudebro as I like to call them. His son in the cart was crying about something, and instead of consoling him or helping, he just shouted a barrage of, “YOU KEEP UP THAT CRYING AND I’LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT,” over and over finishing with, “DRY IT UP. DRY IT.”
Disgusted, I headed into the store and heard other customers making fun of him. I wish I could’ve said something, but as I was in uniform, I couldn’t start a conflict with a customer.
I headed over to the bakery and started to get my tasks together. Another man and his son were looking at the full-service cake case, trying to decide on a birthday cake for the son. The dad asked, “All right, bud, which one do you want?” The little boy excitedly said, “The unicorn!” I cringed, expecting the worst from the dad. The cake had a swirl of pink and purple hair with blue and white roses. Unfortunately, in cake decorating, the terms “boy cakes” and “girl cakes” get thrown around a lot. The dad said, “Okay, buddy! Ma’am, can we get the unicorn?”
Some people are garbage, but at least there some who restore my faith in humanity to balance it all out, unicorn cake in hand.
I work as a delivery driver with one of my roommates, and one day we are feeling particularly unwell. Both of us are hit bad with allergies and pain, and I am feeling especially grumpy because of a mix of losing my voice and working next to the oven. During a slow period after rush, I approach her while our manager is nearby.
I make a simple request for her to “end my suffering,” while her response is, “end mine first.” This is typical banter between us when we’re grumpy or sick. What I don’t notice is our manager wandering off, soon returning with a pair of lollipops that we normally give to kids who’re waiting with their parents.
He hands one to each of us, proudly declaring, “There you go! It’s taken care of!”
The best part is that he was right; after eating the lollipops, we both were in considerably better moods. Guess you really can’t deny your inner kid!
One day, I decided to buy and put a bumper sticker on my car. The bumper sticker read, “Politicians are like diapers. They need to be changed often and for the same reasons.”
Sometime later, I was with my parents at a store and I saw a bumper sticker that I got my mom to buy me. This one read, “Don’t steal. The government hates competition”.
Fast forward a few months later. I’m at the mall just browsing around and after an hour or two, I head out to my car. As I get close to it, I see a piece of paper that was placed under the driver side windshield wiper. At first, I think I’ve gotten a ticket but when I look at the paper, I read, “Congratulations! I love your bumper stickers.”
To whoever put that note under my windshield wiper, glad I could make your day.
(When I am a child, my family goes to an Independence Day carnival every year after watching the Independence Day parade. There are quite a few standard carnival rides, but there are also a few large tents where activities like spin art, sand art, and airbrush tattoos are available. I am walking around in these tents when I see one of the biggest, fluffiest, happiest dogs I have ever seen. He is on a harness and surrounded by small children petting him. He seems to be having the time of his life, and his owner is watching to make sure no one gets too rough. I ask the owner if I can pet her dog and she allows me to. The dog is drinking it up like a happy puppy.)
Me: *petting the dog* “He’s so sweet! Is he a husky?”
Owner: *laughs* “Nope, he’s a gray wolf!”
(To this day, I still use “I once petted a wolf” for playing Two Truths and a Lie!)
