Due to the current health crisis, masks are mandatory to wear on public transport, including trains. I’m on the train, reading an article on how the national train company has so far not enforced that rule and will now work harder to make sure that passengers refusing to wear a mask will be removed from the ride. 

At the next stop, a man enters and sits in the seat on the opposite aisle. He has a mask but it’s completely pulled down. He then gets a beer, gnaws it open with his teeth, puts the spit-covered lid on the little table, and begins to drink. I’m a little shocked, but he has headphones in and I also have social anxiety so I don’t dare to confront him and neither does anyone else. 

Soon, he’s starting his second beer — the smell on the train is horrible thanks to that — and the train inspectors come through to check everyone’s tickets. I internally cheer, because there’s four of them so it must mean they actually work harder to make sure everyone’s safe, right? 

Wrong. 

They don’t say anything, just check the man’s ticket. No, “Sir, please wear your mask,” or, “Please get off at the next station.” Nothing. The girl sitting across from me looks just as stunned as me. 

The inspectors then stay right in front of our seats, where the doors are, and chat. 

Then, the man without the mask sneezes. Three times. And I don’t mean small sneezes. I have noise-cancelling headphones in on full volume; I can’t even hear the train engines but I can hear that man sneeze loudly. It sounds gross. He also, of course, doesn’t even try to cover his face with his arm or hand. 

The inspectors do nothing. 

One passenger tells the man that he is gross and should wear a mask, pointing to his own mask and all. He doesn’t react. 

The girl in front of me and I make eye contact. Her eyes are huge and she shakes her head at me in disbelief. I do, too, and the man opens his third beer by the time I get off the train. 

I’m considering writing a complaint, since I’m mostly upset at the inspectors, but I feel like it won’t do any good since this wasn’t the first time I witnessed something like this in the last few weeks.

I’m standing behind this gem in line.

Cashier: “Did you find everything all right today, sir?”

Customer: *High-pitched mimicking* “’Did you find everything all right?’”

The customer scoffs.

Customer: “NO! You a**holes always do this! You falsely advertise an item you never have in store!”

Cashier: “I’m sorry to hear that, sir; what didn’t you find?”

Customer: “[Brand] laundry detergent.”

There’s a huge display of it right by the register.

Cashier: “Oh, actually, sir, I can help. We have a display—”

Customer: “No, you don’t. I searched this whole d*** store!”

Cashier: “Sir, if you’d just look—”

Customer: “NO! Shut up, you stupid b****, and do your d*** job! Stop falsely advertising s*** you don’t have!”

The customer turns to me.

Customer: “Can you believe this bulls***?”

Me: “I can’t believe a full-grown man is having a temper tantrum over laundry detergent that’s literally three feet away from him, which he’d have known if he hadn’t been such an a**hole when the cashier was trying to help him. Pay for your stuff and go; some of us have better things to do than verbally abuse the cashier.”

The customer turns bright red, pays, and storms out.

Me: “How many times has that happened since the sale started?”

Cashier: *Exhausted* “So many times.”

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At the end of my fifteen-minute lifeguarding rotation, I look over and see a woman changing her daughter’s full diaper on deck. I start to walk over but my coworker gets there first. I can’t hear the conversation but I can see that the woman yells at him and he walks away. This family gave me and my coworker trouble earlier in the day, as well.

Break starts and I walk back into the guard room. This woman walks up to the counter, looking angry.

Lady: “Is breastfeeding illegal, too?”

Me: “No, ma’am, in [Our State] public breastfeeding is not illegal.”

Lady: “Then why am I being told I cannot feed my child? I demand your name, your coworker’s name, and your manager’s name. I am suing you!”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the issue here isn’t breastfeeding. I believe we told you to not change your daughter on deck due to sanitation issues. We have a changing table available in the restroom for you to use.”

The lady continues screaming about suing us and continues to demand my name and my manager’s name, as well as her phone number.

Coworker: “We cannot legally disclose the name of our employees or our manager’s personal information. Here’s a rule sheet if you would like to look over the rules.”

We call our manager, who comes back to the pool and deals with the lady and her family. They finally leave.

Manager: *Angrily* “Who told her it was illegal to breastfeed?”

My coworker and I look at each other in confusion.

Me: “No one said that.” 

I proceeded to explain the whole situation. My manager apologized for yelling, and the lady was banned.

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Making A Boob Of One Self, Part 4

My mother and I run a cat rescue. A woman shows up at my house; she needs somewhere to board her cat for a while because she needs to move. My mom and I are willing to help, but we need information. 

Mom: “Does your cat have FIV?”

Cat Owner: “He’s never been tested, but I know he doesn’t have it.”

Mom: “If he’s never been tested, you can’t really know he doesn’t have it. It’s very sudden. How long will he need to be boarded?”

Cat Owner: “I don’t know.”

Mom: “Well, we’ll need to know dates and stuff, because it’ll be very difficult to find a foster if we don’t have a time frame.”

Cat Owner: “Well, I don’t know how long it will take.”

Mind you, she had already told me before my mom walked up that it would take a couple of weeks.

Mom: “I can’t really help you without information.”

Cat Owner: “You know what? Y’all can go to Hell! You’re a bunch of stupid b****es anyway. I hate people like you. You’re trash!”

This is why I don’t give people my address.

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My younger sister had a summer wedding in Las Vegas where she was living at the time. It was hot as heck, in the nineties even at night that week. My dad had to pick me up at the airport. The flight was delayed three hours, so I got into Las Vegas just after 7:00 pm.

The groom’s family was supposed to take everyone out for dinner. They did not wait for us, so only my sister was there. They all got drunk as h***. My parents, grandmother, and I ended up eating at [Australia-Themed Chain]. Our dinner was very nice, but it was around 10:00 pm.

The groom and best man had a fistfight in the restaurant’s parking lot, which led to the groom and my sister spending the night in a Las Vegas emergency room. The best man ended up in jail for the entire weekend. My sister refused to leave her intended in the emergency room, so she called my mom about every two hours during the night. My folks did not get much sleep. I shared a room with my grandmom, so we slept okay.

The next day, the day of the wedding, the groom’s family, the groom, and my sister all showed up. They were all hungover and unhappy. The wedding was supposed to be at 1:00 pm, with the ceremony held at a cheap-looking walk-in wedding chapel. There was no shade or outdoor seating. The prior wedding party ran late, so we all spent an hour outdoors, in Las Vegas in July, where the outside temperature went from 108 to 110F during that hour. After about twenty minutes, my dad let my mom, grandmom, and me sit in their rental car with the air conditioning on so we didn’t get heatstroke.

Finally, a little past 2:00 pm, the ceremony could begin. It turns out that the chapel could hold twelve if everyone squished together, and there were more than twenty there. My dad squished inside, but I stayed in the rental car to keep my ninety-year-old grandmom healthy, and after a little bit, my mom came to sit out the ceremony.

We had to go back outside for wedding pictures. Photos for the ceremony were done by one of the groom’s friends. Everyone had to stand out in the sun again for another half-hour and I was ordered to not wear my prescription sunglasses for the pics. Since I never saw evidence of any pics, my guess is he screwed up somehow.

By this point, I had used all of a (large) tube of SPF-fifty sunscreen on myself, my grandmom, and my mom — and everyone else attending because no one else brought sunscreen. I was the only one who wore a hat. I was in long sleeves/full coverage, dying in the heat, because I’m pale as f***.

As the wedding group was getting into cars, someone rammed into me, knocking my prescription sunglasses — in their case — onto the asphalt, and a car drove over them. They were crushed beyond salvaging.

For the reception/wedding dinner, my sister had booked twenty reserved places for us at a bar she liked, and thirty were in the party by then. We got there and only two six-person booths were held for us. The catering guys never showed, but they did call the bar to alert them. This meant there was no food available, only drinks.

The cake, ordered separately, never showed up, either, but my sister only found this out an hour later. The bar’s staff lied that it was “in the back” so the entire group wouldn’t leave before spending money there.

Everyone got drunk — no food and lots of booze — except for me, since I don’t drink. I ended up driving my mom, dad, and grandmom back to our motel.

We were told there was another fight in the bar later that night which ended with more police involvement, but my sister didn’t want to talk about the details. Her new husband was arrested but not booked that night. My sister says they got out of the police station at around 3:00 am.

The marriage lasted less than a year.