I had plans to go away on vacation to the Caribbean for five nights with a long-time friend. It was not all-inclusive, so we would be responsible for paying for food, drinks, and any activities.

We were discussing our plans.

Friend: “How much are you bringing in cash?”

Me: “I’m bringing $300 cash, plus my debit and credit cards.”

Friend: “I’m going to bring $300 cash, too, but I’m not bringing any cards. I’m on a budget, and $300 is my limit.”

Me: “That only comes to around $60 per day. This isn’t one of the cheaper Caribbean islands, so food and drink alone won’t leave you with much left over. You need to factor in cabs, incidentals, or any activities we may decide to do. And you never know if an emergency will come up where you will need money.”

Friend: “That’s why I have you!”

And she started to laugh. That pissed me off to no end.

Me: “We are both adults who are responsible for our own selves. It would be one thing if you lost your purse and needed money; I’d float you the money before you even had time to ask. But to purposely use me as your backup ATM is not going to work. Not that I know what you’re up to, I’m not going along with it. If you run out of money, you will just be a**ed out and hungry. You need to bring your cards with you for your own good.”

Friend: “You don’t have to be so harsh!” *Pauses* “Fine. I’ll bring some extra money, but I’m not bringing cards.”

Me: “Do what you want, but if there’s an emergency, you are on your own.”

I posted about this online to vent my frustration, and I got a lot of feedback and suggestions that truly did save the vacation. I’ll hit the highlights.

Some commenters said that the hotel would want a credit card on file from the person who made the reservation. [Friend] was the one who booked the vacation; she put the whole thing on her credit card because she wanted the card “points”. I told her that because the reservation was booked through a third-party app, the hotel would need the original card used to make the reservation, so she was on the hook to bring her credit card. I have no idea if that was true or not, but it sounded good based on what everyone commented! She was not happy that her own greed got her, but at least she brought a credit card.

Others mentioned that [Friend] was going to sulk. And sulk she did. When we got to the airport:

Me: “I’m not going to spend this vacation in your misery. We should hash this out right now.”

Friend: “Your tone is very rude! It’s like you’re accusing me of trying to mooch off of you!”

She was.

Me: “Put yourself in my shoes. You’re deliberately being irresponsible, and you told me to my face that I’m your backup plan and laughed about it. It made me feel used and put-upon.”

Friend: “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Me: “Thank you. I’m sorry I was so harsh.”

Some commenters said [Friend] would try to be content with cutting corners. Cabs were prohibitively expensive on the island, and they didn’t take credit cards. So, [Friend] looked up how to take the local buses. I was fine with that until we waited forty-five minutes in the heat for a bus to take us to the mall. (Island time…) Yup, we only took cabs after that.

A few mentioned that [Friend] would probably go through her cash in the first two days. They were close: it took two and a half days. There were several markets with local jewelry and crafts that she absolutely loved and they only took… cash. So, she ran through her money rather quickly. She only brought her credit card, not her debit card. So, as someone suggested, I made her Zelle me right then and there the money I took out of the ATM for her. She paid for the exchange and ATM fees.

[Friend] “tried it” with the meals; she ordered something big and wanted to “split” the bill evenly. Normally, I would not nitpick about that, but I just didn’t want her to feel like she’d still gotten one over on me in any way. Since she used her credit card for meals (to save the cash she had), I paid what I owed in cash and she paid the rest (her higher portion) with her credit card.

Overall, we had a good time. We did a few excursions, had shopping and beach time, and relaxed. She even told me it was a good thing she’d brought her credit card. Things only got weird when I asked her to Zelle me right then and there at the ATM before I gave her the cash, but she knew why I was being so hard-nosed about it.

My family and I were living in a beach town, all of us adults. I’m trans male or non-binary (AFAB). I’m very modest; I’m not into wearing bikinis, not because I’m chubby but because I don’t want my crotch and t*ts out.

For my birthday, I was given a gift certificate for $300 to a fancy swimsuit boutique. My oldest sister took me since I couldn’t easily get there without a car.

Sister: “Look at these!” *Holds up string bikini bottoms* “I wear the same ones! We could match.”

Me: “How big do those go? You have a much smaller butt than me.”

Sister: “Oh, I don’t know, but there are strings, so it’s adjustable.”

I turned to the owner, who knew my sister.

Me: “What size bottoms does [Sister] wear?”

Owner: “Large. But I have an extra large.”

I looked at this tiny, short, skinny woman and wondered what she thought was large. She was the owner, designer, and seamstress.

I tried on the strip of fabric. (I was wearing a thong under for sanitary reasons.)

Me: “I don’t want to show you both how this looks. It is way too small.”

Sister: “Don’t be silly. We are all women here!”

I sighed and opened the fitting room curtain.

Owner: “That looks fine! The strings were long enough—”

I silently turned around; the whole upper half of my butt was exposed.

Sister: “Well, clearly you just need thong bottoms!”

Me: “No.”

Owner: “Oh, you just need to pull it up.” *Yanks the thing up into my buttcrack*

Me: “Most people in this town are closer to my size… Would you consider making larger options, and I could come back?”

Sister: “Don’t be rude!”

I’m average to small on top, but I still had trouble. And the stuff was so expensive that the certificate only bought me like four outfits.

I had to be passive for family dynamic reasons; I’m not normally such a pushover.

My family then pressured, shamed, and cajoled me into wearing these humiliating outfits, also requiring that I shave, which is hard for sensory reasons. Normally, I would go to the beach in leggings and a long-sleeved shirt.

The funniest part is that this isn’t even the reason I live on the other side of the planet from them now and don’t talk to them.

I’ve since learned that nothing is worth putting up with people who disrespect my body and identity so blatantly. If a situation will destroy my mental health, it’s unlikely any good will come of it. Trying to pretend to be what others want, especially with changing and unreasonable expectations, will destroy me. I can’t just grin and bear that forever.

If you have some people dictating who you are allowed to be, ask yourself why you are there, and if it’s worth it.

While on a cruise, I book a tour of a historic site. After everyone boards the bus, the tour guide tells us that in his country it is required by law to wear seat belts. We buckle up and he checks to make sure we are all wearing the belts. One tourist near me has decided not to wear his.

Guide: “You need to buckle your seat belt.”

Tourist: “I am not wearing the belt.”

Guide: “Maybe you misunderstand me. It isn’t the cruise line recommending you wear your seat belt or the tour company recommending you wear the seat belt. It is the law of my country. I am not asking you to wear it; I am saying you have to.”

Tourist: “No, I’m not using the belt. I don’t want to.”

Guide: “Our driver cannot legally go on the roads if anyone doesn’t have the belt on, so you have two options. You can either buckle up and come see the ruins with us, or you can get off the bus and stay at the port. Your choice.”

Tourist: “I don’t have to wear a seat belt in my home country, so I’m not going to wear one here.”

 Guide: “Are we in your home country?”

Tourist: “No.”

Guide: “Then your country’s laws don’t apply here. Either buckle up or get off the bus.”

The man did buckle up, but he spent the whole ride talking angrily with his wife. I don’t know what exactly he was saying as it was in a different language, but the tourist got increasingly louder as the trip went on. He was so angry that, once we got to the site, he didn’t go on the tour; he just sat at the entrance.

His wife came with us on the tour, though, and she seemed like she had a great time. It’s a shame he ruined his day over a little safety thing like a seat belt.

If you thought this tourist was bad check out these 13 Cringeworthy True Stories About Tourists Who Have Absolutely No Clue!

I am on a bus waiting to take me back to my cruise ship when a very sophisticated European lady sits down with an ice cream cone. A very southern lady from the USA is seated behind her.

American Lady: “That ice cream cone looks sooo good! What kind is it?

The European lady answers in a heavy accent.

European Lady: “Mango.”

The southern lady looks very shocked as she repeats what she thinks she heard.

American Lady: “Mountain goat?!”

My sister and I are getting lunch at a restaurant. Our waitress is taking our order when this happens.

Waitress: “What will you be having?”

Sister: “Just a burger and fries.”

Waitress: “How would you like that cooked?”

Sister: “Medium, please.”

Waitress: “Sir?”

Me: “I’ll have the roasted chicken with potatoes, please.”

Waitress: “And how would you like that done?”

Me: “Wha?”

Waitress: “How would you like that done?”

Me: “I’m confused…”

My sister is now doubled over with laughter.

Waitress: *Mildly annoyed* “How. Well. Would. You. Like. Your. Chicken. Done?”

Me: *Amused now* “Let’s go for well-done.”

Waitress: *Snarkily* “Coming right up.”

Unfortunately — fortunately? — my roasted chicken did not come out burned to a crisp but was rather moist and tasty.