I rent a room in a house with a few other women. It’s a typical setup — a communal area and a small bedroom each. I don’t spend a lot of time in the communal area, but even less when [Roommate]’s boyfriend is there.

We shouldn’t even have visitors, but everyone looks the other way, especially if it is only for a night. But [Roommate] has him around for almost a week at a time. He’s creepy and obnoxious and I’m sure he steals food from the fridge. I only have one more year left at uni and then I will move, so I kind of switch off and just keep a distance.

I grab myself something to eat and cannot find my spatula anywhere. It’s a big, pink, silicone one, so it’s hard to miss. I make do without, but I’m keen to know where it is or if I need to replace it. I’ve asked everyone, aside from [Roommate], so I ask her when I see her next.

Me: “Hey, you don’t know where my spatula is, do you?”

Roommate: “Oh, we used it, sorry. I’ll wash it up.”

Me: “No worries. I just couldn’t find it in the kitchen anywhere. I don’t mind washing it. Where did you put it?”

Roommate: “Oh, yeah. It’s in my room.”

Me: *Oblivious* “Why would it be in your room?! You can’t cook in there with the smoke alarm.”

Roommate: “Well, sometimes we borrow it. Well, not all the time, but when he’s over, we—”

Me: “Oh, God, I cook with that!”

Roommate: “I’ll wash it!”

Me: “You will buy me a new one and never borrow anything from me again!”

Disgusted, I stopped talking to [Roommate]. A couple of weeks went by and she still hadn’t replaced the spatula. I reminded her and reminded her. She eventually refused, as the one I bought was “too expensive” and “no one needs a spatula as expensive as that.” 

I was going to leave it there, but she lied to the rest of the house and made me look like the bad guy. I told them what actually happened and they “banned” her from having guests around.

I’m in the gardening department.

Customer: “Where are your grow bags?”

Me: “I’m sorry, we don’t sell grow bags.”

Customer: “You do; I bought one in here last week.”

Me: “I’m sorry, but you couldn’t have; we haven’t sold grow bags in at least the last five years.”

Customer: “No, I definitely bought one in here. Isn’t there someone else you can ask?”

Me: “I’m in charge of the gardening department, and I can assure you that you definitely did not buy a grow bag here last week. Are you sure it wasn’t [Nearby Shop]?”

Customer: “No, it was here. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re useless.” *Stomps off*

I think nothing of it and go back to the work I was doing. A few minutes later, a colleague approaches with the customer.

Colleague: “This gentleman wants to know if we sell grow bags.”

Me: “No, as I told him a few minutes ago, we don’t sell grow bags at all.”

My colleague relays this to the customer and he stomps off again. A few minutes after this, I’m summoned to the customer service desk over the tannoy.

Helpdesk Assistant: “This gentleman wants to know if we have any grow bags.”

Customer: “You again? You’re still useless.” *Stomps out of the shop*

My wife’s grandmother is a very opinionated lady. The things she thinks she knows are the only facts there are. She is a lovely lady but hard to get along with.

Mother-In-Law: “Coffee, anyone?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

Mother-In-Law: “I forget, how do you take it?”

Me: “Black with a sweetener, please.”

Grandmother-In-Law: “Ha! Sweeteners. Like that will make a difference.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Grandmother-In-Law: “How is not eating a little teaspoon of sugar going to do anything?”

Me: “Not a lot on its own, probably, but—”

Grandmother-In-Law: “Exactly! That’s my point. Waste of time.”

Me: “It won’t do much on its own, but sweetener instead of sugar, low-fat milk, low-fat butter, light cooking in oil instead of fat — they all add up.”

Grandmother-In-Law: “But you don’t need to lose any weight.”

Me: “No, but making little changes that barely impact the taste and are more healthy is an obvious choice for me.”

Grandmother-In-Law: “Well, you keep your ‘obvious choices’ for yourself. I will stick with what I know tastes good. Oh, is that my tea?”

Mother-In-Law: “Yes, Mom.”

Grandmother-In-Law: “Two sugars?”

Mother-In-Law: “Yes, Mom.”

Grandmother-In-Law: “Delicious, thank you.”

[Mother-In-Law] hadn’t had sugar in the house for a week, so that was definitely sweetener.

I have a horrible habit of bringing my glasses cloth into our living room and losing it. My wife finds it funny and likes to tease me about it.

I just received my new glasses and I’m cleaning them on the sofa, settling the cloth beside me. Unbeknownst to me, it’s started to slip between the cushions.

My wife, playing distraught, says loudly to the cloth:

Wife: “YOU WON’T LEAVE HERE!”

My mother has worked for many years as a special needs teacher. A teenage schoolgirl has been diagnosed with a condition that makes it hard for her to read black letters on white pages; she sees the letters dance about on the page. This is quite easily corrected by using transparent coloured overlays, so the girl is given a set of these. Unfortunately, many older people think that having special educational needs is somehow shameful, and the girl’s father is one of them. He calls the office in a rage and is put through to my mother, the girl’s teacher.

Father: “My little girl isn’t stupid!”

Teacher: *Calmly* “Of course not. She just has a condition that means that black letters on white pages seem to move around.”

Father: *Confused* “But… isn’t that just how it is?”

It turned out that the condition was hereditary, and the father was delighted to find that his daughter’s coloured overlays helped him, as well. He had no further complaints.

This story is part of our Best Of April 2021 roundup!

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