(I’m the stupid customer here. I’m a Dutch tourist in Helsinki, having a particular nasty vacation due to not picking the right travelling companions. I’m at a kiosk looking at some souvenirs. I decide on a patch that says, “I love Finland,” and bring it to the counter. Because of my current situation, I’m very tired and quite grumpy. The clerk gives me my price, which I don’t pay attention to because he probably says it in Finnish, so I read it off the screen. I give him the money, and he says something else.)

Me: *low-key annoyed* “Sorry, I don’t speak Finnish”

Clerk: “Was that all today?”

Me: “I told you I don’t…” *suddenly clicks that he spoke English this whole time* “Oh… I’m so sorry!”

Clerk: *smiles* “Long day?”

Me: “Let’s keep it at that.”

(I am working in a grocery store when I overhear a woman and her two young kids. They’re currently looking at the eggs.)

Customer: “Why are there no organic eggs?”

Customer’s Son: “Mom, can’t we take these?” *holds up a box of regular eggs*

Customer: *looks at the “best before” date* “No, we can’t take these! Just look at how long these stay good. There must be tons of preservatives! “

(I left to go to the back room before laughing. Apparently the customer has never looked at the date on the organic eggs that’s just as long. It’s still a mystery to just how she imagined the preservatives are put on eggs.)

(I’m having recess with friends. Our school has students ranging from 13 to 18 in age, since it’s a combined middle and high school — or the closest Finnish equivalent. I’m a 16-year-old girl with friends mostly my age, but a 13-year-old boy we’ve met through a hobby has started tagging along. He’s a sweet kid, but his energy levels are super high and he can be socially awkward, so we sometimes have to tell him off and ask him to calm down.)

Me: “You really shouldn’t do that.”

(Our young friend takes my hand by the wrist and starts slapping himself in the face with it lightly, as mock-punishment. He gets a few slaps in before my nose suddenly starts bleeding.)

Another Friend: “Oh, [My Name], you’ve got this all wrong! The one being hit in the face should be the one who bleeds!”

My ex-boyfriend had a habit of not buying me birthday gifts. Usually his excuse was something like, “I couldn’t figure out anything,” or, “I’ll get you something later.” The latter also ended up with, “Sorry, couldn’t figure out anything for you.” I didn’t mind too much, because I didn’t want to be materialistic, and I had some self-esteem issues, too, at the time, which made me think I didn’t even deserve any gifts.

One year, my birthday was approaching and my ex-boyfriend’s mother asked me what her son had given me as birthday gifts in the previous years. When I told her, “Nothing,” she was quite astounded, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

However, my ex actually got me something that year: a pretty piece of jewelry. I was very happy that he had made some effort and got me something; he had thought of me. I figured that his mother had had a talk with him about the matter.

A couple of months later, I was cleaning our apartment and I found the receipt of my birthday gift. I was about to throw it away, when all of a sudden I realized something. I remembered the date on the receipt. We were at our friends’ place out of town the whole day. There was no way he was in jewelry store at the time.”

Then it hit me. I went to my ex-boyfriend and asked, “Did… Did your mother buy this gift?”

“Haha, yeah!”

It turned out his mother had gone alone to the jewelry store and picked out something for me. My ex hadn’t asked her to, and she hadn’t consulted my ex. Then, she gave the present to my ex and told him to give it to me as a birthday present. She did not ask money for the jewelry, and my ex never paid anything for it. And he had happily accepted. Again, he hadn’t had to expend any effort for my birthday.

Of course my ex’s mother meant well, and I appreciated that. However, my ex’s actions — or non-actions — made me so sad and disappointed. I even started to cry after the revelation, and he couldn’t understand why. “It’s still a gift, right?” To this day, I wonder if I was in the wrong to be disappointed.

(I get a call from a telemarketer that sells monthly subscription to packages of razor blades and socks. These types of telemarketers represent borderline scam companies, because although the subscription can be terminated any time, the company is based abroad and doesn’t have a working phone number or email address. Other types of scams happen to like faking audio receipts. The person is being very pesky, as I’ve told him many times I don’t want his product. For some reason, I find it hard to just hang up the phone and he is constantly interrupting me.)

Telemarketer: “Ew, gross! Don’t you ever shave your legs or change socks? Hairy girls are so unsexy!”

(After that I didn’t find it hard at all to hang up the phone.)