I started at my current restaurant gig eleven years ago, and I was just reminded of something pretty wild that happened in my first year there.

We had a couple of married bar regulars. I’ll call them Jack and Jill. They were very frequent regulars, the type you see two or three times a week. I had gotten to know them by face and name after a few months, but we weren’t close to any level where we’d have extended conversations about our lives.

While closing up at the end of a shift, a coworker found Jill’s phone left behind where they’d been sitting. The screen was passcode-locked, so we set it aside with the plan to return it the next time they came in.

A couple of days later, I was working the bar at the beginning of our dinner shift, and the phone rang. I just so happened to be the one to answer.

Me: “Hi, thanks for calling [Restaurant]. How can I help you?”

Jack: “Hi, [My Name], this is Jack. Is Jill there?”

Me: “No, she’s not, but it’s good luck that you called! We have her phone here.”

There’s a brief pause from Jack, and then:

Jack: “Which phone is that? Because she forgot her phone; I’m looking at it right here. That’s why I’m calling the restaurant number.”

It turned out that Jill had been cheating on Jack for months, and she happened to leave behind her cheatin’ phone. Jack found out that day because he talked to me. They were separated within days.

In the immediate weeks after, Jill “won our restaurant in the divorce”, as seems to happen when regular customers break up, but after about six months, she stopped showing up. Someone must have eventually told Jack it was safe because he came in a few years later and told us all the sordid details.

CONTENT WARNING: Animal Abuse

When my brother and his wife were divorcing, they lived together for about two months before it was final. One morning, my brother was just behind his wife as they went downstairs; she was about to have breakfast and then head to work. Their two cats were about five months old at this time and as rambunctious and energetic as kittens normally are. [Cat #1] was [Brother]’s, while [Cat #2] was [Sister-In-Law]’s, so their plan was to split the brothers. This morning, [Cat #1] rushed to greet [Sister-In-Law]; most likely, he was hungry and about to beg for food. She kicked him across the room.

My brother grabbed his darling wife and pushed her out the door.

Brother: “You can have breakfast at work. And you can forget about taking [Cat #2]; I refuse to allow someone who abuses animals to have one.”

[Sister-In-Law] worked at a grocery store and bragged about how the staff “found” food they could enjoy for free in the break room and how well-stocked the staff fridge was. He didn’t expect her to starve; he is not an abusive monster.

He kept his word, and that was his only condition during the divorce: that he could keep both boys. They are now very spoiled fourteen-year-old seniors whose only complaint is that [Cat #2] is ordered by the vet to shrink. When your two main interests are to eat and sleep, you tend to expand, so to speak.

My husband and I used to camp a lot before we had our little one. Once she was old enough, we resumed, splitting the “kiddy” supplies between our backpacks and never going that far, since one of us had to carry her on the back, plus the pack under her “chair” most of the way.

As she got older, we went for longer camping nights and longer hikes. Our oldest wasn’t really exposed to the outdoors as much when she was younger, so the slower “easing into” camping/hiking was good for her, as well.

We made the mistake of camping with a work buddy of my husband’s. Prepared they were not. Well, let me rephrase that: the husband was prepared, but apparently, he had told his wife she needed to be more prepared and she’d shrugged it off, saying:

Buddy’s Wife: “Their five-year-old can do it, so can I. How hard can things be?”

She did not bring the proper weather gear with her, didn’t want to wear the ugly hiking boots (her sneakers were “just fine”), and complained most of the day because she was too tired to go further. Most days we left her at the campsite, which made her even more upset.

Me: “Feel free to leave if you’re having such a bad time.”

Buddy’s Wife: “No, the hike back to the car is too far!”

It turned out to be an eye-opening weekend for the husband, though, because they separated shortly after that. He said her attitude toward everything — plus the attitude she had toward our kids when talking to him in their tent alone — was enough for him to see their future was not going to work.

Back when I was working as an organizer and got work through word of mouth, a community member hired me at minimum wage to help him clear out his basement as he was moving.

He was getting a divorce, and he and his ex-wife were dividing up their belongings. My role turned out to be more of a mediator than an organizer. I had agreed to minimum wage as he was a community member and claimed times were hard. The huge fancy house belied that somewhat, but he was also adamant that we finish quickly so he could be done before his vacation to Fiji.

I helped them over eight hours a day for a couple of days, and my mental health was rapidly declining. One of my other self-employed jobs was actually as a mediator, for the very low price of $60 an hour. However, I would only meet with people for a couple of hours at a time, not like this.

I sent an email.

Me: “Hi. I can’t come in tomorrow unless you pay me $20 an hour. I didn’t expect to be breaking up your arguments all day.”

Client: “How could you do this to me? You know I have a vacation coming up! I can’t do this without you!”

Me: “Then pay me. I’m miserable, and $9 an hour isn’t worth this.”

Client: “You are a terrible person! You can’t do this! This is price gouging! I will never forgive you!”

He said a bunch of awful things attacking my character that I won’t repeat.

Me: “I’ll take pity on you even though you are being mean. If you agree to pay me $25 an hour, I will pretend you didn’t say all that, and I will give you two days of work. If you speak like this to me — or to your ex-wife in front of me — my offer to help you will be rescinded. My helping you is a favor.”

Unsurprisingly, he was very angry and said a lot more mean things. He sent a few nasty emails over the next few days. However, this was just funny to me because I felt so free. I am still happy with my decision fifteen years later.

He wasn’t entitled to me. I was more than generous.

I work in the IT department for a South Carolina public school. They aren’t the sharpest bunch. With the CARES money (government relief for the global health crisis), we were able to buy every kid in the district a laptop. Many kids were also starting to do school from home. My patience is thin with the particular school I service to begin with. They can never do anything for themselves.

This little conversation happened in 2021 with the librarian, who is my contact person at the school.

Librarian: “We have a problem with a student’s laptop.”

Me: “Which is?”

Librarian: “The student is virtual, and her dad is sending her to live with her mother in another part of the county. The mom is on the phone saying the dad will not give her the school-issued laptop. Dad says he doesn’t trust the mother to turn it in at the end of the year. He signed for it. The student can’t do her work.”

Me: “And?”

Librarian: “Well, the kid needs to do her work.”

Me: “The father won’t return school property. Call the cops.”

[Librarian] went into the office looking very confused. She returned a few minutes later.

Librarian: “Well, how do we resolve this?”

Me: “Jeez. Tell the father to bring the laptop to the school. You can sign something for him absolving him of responsibility for it. Then, the mother can pick it up from here.”

The principal walked in just then and heard my comment.

Principal: “Yeah, I guess we can do that. I was just wanting to get another laptop for the student.”

Me: “We just don’t have an unlimited supply of laptops to give to people — especially if one is being held up due to some tiff between two feuding divorcees.”

I have to think of everything for these people.