The first car I got in college in the early 1980s was terrible, but it got me around to where I needed to go. One of its many failings was that somewhere below 1/2 on the fuel gauge (it varied), the needle would stop moving down.

I was on my way to my favorite gas station to fill up one time because I had hit the “no move” mark the day before (I thought). Just as I pulled up to a stoplight a few blocks from the station, the engine started sputtering. Uh oh.

Fortunately, the light turned green right then, and I was still rolling. I could see a different station than I normally use down a slight incline past the light, so I kept rolling as the engine shut off. I rolled down the hill and right up to their first pump. I was happy with how that worked out.

I got out, and the pump had a sign on it: “No credit cards”.

Huh, okay.

I had some cash. Searching my wallet, I in fact had no cash. I did have something like fourteen cents in my pocket.

Now, fourteen cents didn’t get you much gas even back then, but the station I had been aiming for was just a couple blocks away, and it did accept credit cards. So, I very carefully put in fourteen cents’ worth of gas and paid inside, where the clerk gave me a weird look.

The car took a few tries to start, but I did indeed have enough gas to get to the other station.

After that, I always kept an “emergency” $20 bill tucked away in my wallet.

The owner of a small company issued me a company cell phone (that I didn’t need) and felt that gave him an excuse to call me any time of day or night – work day or not – with stupid questions. He also kept giving us (those of us with company cell phones) changing rules about using those phones. One rule was that we had to answer ASAP. Another rule was that we were not to talk on the phone while driving – we had to pull over and park, then answer and talk.

So, one morning I’m driving to work, and I should get to the office about fifteen minutes early when he rings my phone. Morning traffic is heavy near the office, and it takes me some time to get out of traffic and park in a parking lot before I answer. He keeps it ringing the whole time. 

When I finally answer, he asks:

Boss: “Where are you?”

I tell him that I’m about ten minutes from the office, but I had to stop to answer his call. He asks:

Boss: “Why aren’t you here yet?”

I tell him again that I probably would have been at the office by now, but his call and rules have me sitting in a parking lot instead.

Me: “What is the hurry? Is there an emergency? If I wasn’t interrupted, I would have been in the office early.”

Boss: “Why aren’t you coming?”

I remind him of his rule that I am not to answer his phone and drive at the same time. This type of stupid banter continues for a while, until he gets tired. So, he hangs up and I continue to the office, now about fifteen minutes late.

When I get to the office, the owner meets me and demands that I give him back the phone. He says I do not deserve it. Hooray! Now he is unable to keep calling and bothering me.

About a week later, the owner stops into my cube and asks why I am not answering his cell phone calls. I remind him that he confiscated that phone. Apparently, he shoved it into a drawer, and he cannot hear it ring.

Yeah, I moved on to greener pastures not long after this.

Two friends and I (all guys), hanging out one Saturday afternoon, realize that [Other Friend] has a glaring gap in his knowledge, and despite our best attempts to educate him on this gap, he is convinced we’re all tricking him as some kind of prank (which is fair, as we do that to each other a lot). 

So, we decide to drive somewhere to prove that we are right and he is wrong. As we’re driving, we realize we’re passing close to the home of another friend in the group, so I call him from the car (I’m in the passenger seat).

Me: “Hey, [Friend], I’m here with [Other Friend] and [Driver Friend], going to the aquarium. Wanna come?”

Friend: “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s wholesome as f***, but why did a bunch of grown-a** men decide to all go to the aquarium of all places?”

Me: “[Other Friend] doesn’t think seahorses are real.”

Friend: “…What?”

Me: “[Other Friend] doesn’t think seahorses are real. He thinks we’re all pranking him.”

[Other Friend] starts talking loudly from the back seat, so that [Friend] can hear:

Other Friend: “Sure, sea horses, magical sea creatures that look like horses with mermaid tails and just float upright and look majestic as f***. You’re telling me those are real?”

All Of Us: “Yes!”

Other Friend: “Whatever, at least I’m getting a free day out of it.”

Me: “We never said they were magical.”

Other Friend: “You said the males get pregnant.”

Driver Friend: “Technically the fertilized egg gets transplanted into a space on the male where—”

Other Friend: “—Yup. Pregnant. Pregnant male. Magic. Y’all might as well say they’re dragons.”

Me: “Aaaanywho, [Friend], we’re passing your off-ramp in about five minutes; we picking you up?”

Friend: “Just to see [Other Friend]’s face when he sees the seahorses for real? You bet your a** I’m in!”

So, we take a small detour, pick up [Friend], and proceed to the aquarium. When we tell the young woman why we’re there, she thinks it’s hilarious and adorable, and allows us to get in on a family ticket (instead of paying for four full-priced adults), and she tells [Other Friend] to prepare to have his mind blown.

That was the first indicator to him that maybe, just maaaaaybe, we weren’t pranking him after all. 

When he finally saw the seahorses for real, the noises coming out of him were enough to get the aquarium employee working that room to ask him to calm down. Then when that guy found out why [Other Friend] was making such noises, he also thought this was adorable and spent the next twenty minutes answering all of [Other Friend]’s questions about seahorses, male pregnancy, and everything.

In fact, the seahorse lesson was so engrossing that by the time we were done, about five kids and their respective parents had joined us to make an impromptu crowd of eager learners about ‘hippocampus hippocampus‘ (the seahorse scientific name I learned that day!).

Our family (parents, two siblings, and I) is on a long road trip. This is before iPads or mobile screens, so we’re keeping occupied the old-fashioned way: games and talking. I can read books in the car, but my siblings get car sick from doing that, so my dad is sharing interesting facts from a book. 

Until he gets to a fact that sounds like he meddled with it:

Dad: “If you stretch out an adult blue whale from end to end on a professional basketball court… the game would be cancelled.”

Me: *Looking up from my book.* “Wait… that’s the fact?”

Dad: “Well, it would be cancelled, so I’m correct.”

Fourteen-Year-Old Brother: “Not necessarily true if there wasn’t a game scheduled at the time you were ruining that whale.”

Mom: “Gross!”

Fourteen-Year-Old Brother: “So it would be technically correct only based on timing.”

Dad: “If you took into account how often a game is played on the court, and how long it would take to clear away that much whale, it’s very likely that at least one game would be cancelled.”

Fourteen-Year-Old Brother: “That depends on…”

Cue a long and drawn-out argument of “technically correct” points that end up going nowhere except still resulting in a poor landlocked whale. Eventually, the argument dies down, and my little brother says:

Seven-Year-Old Brother: “I have a fun fact to share!”

We tell him to go for it.

Seven-Year-Old Brother: “If you took all the elephants on Earth and stacked them on top of each other… they would all die.”

Mom: “Okay, can we play something, anything, else, please?!”

When I was eighteen, my school had an event going on where the different classes would set up things for the family/friends/public to enjoy, such as games, food/drinks stalls, crafts, etc. I carpooled with two friends of mine; I was the driver. 

At this event, my two friends were in a class that had set up a drinks pavilion. They served soft drinks, water, and beer. This was the last stall still open, and I hopped in to help out when some of the people from their class had to leave (since I was going to wait for my friends anyway). 

By the point we finally shut down, it was just past 1 AM, and after cleanup, we finally headed home. I dropped off [Friend #1] and [Friend #2] and then headed home. Shortly before I got there, however, I got stopped by a police car. (They had been doing more spot checks on weekend nights because of increased numbers of accidents in the area.) 

I roll down the window and get my license and registration ready. I hand them to the officer who comes to my window. The officer checks both and then leans down to talk to me. Before he even opens his mouth, he sniffs the air and then shines his flashlight into the car.

Officer: “Have you had anything to drink tonight?”

Me: “No. I know my car doesn’t smell like it, but that’s mostly my backpack and my shoes. I was serving at [School Event]’s drinks pavilion and got sloshed with a lot of soda and beer.”

Officer: “Uh-huh. Can you step out of the car?”

Me: “Sure.”

I get out and he has me walk along the middle line marking. I manage a perfect straight line since I am 100% sober.

Officer: “You don’t seem drunk, buuuut your car smells like a whole brewery, so will you consent to a breath test, just to make sure?”

Me: “Yeah, that’s fine.”

So, I breathe into the little tube, and it comes back clear. The officer wished me a good night, and I left the windows of my car open overnight to air it out. It really did smell like a brewery.