I’ve just finished helping two elderly women. They’ve both been very polite and pleasant to deal with throughout the entire transaction, other than being a little disappointed that we are sold out of Christmas stamps.

Me: “You two are all set! I hope you both have a wonderful day and enjoy your holiday season!”

[Woman #1] suddenly shoots me a death glare.

Woman #2: “Happy holidays to you as well, sweetie!”

They walk to the door; the rest of the conversation is between the two of them as they leave.

Woman #1: *Loudly* “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

Woman #2: “What?”

Woman #1: “It’s ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS,’ not ‘Happy Holidays’!”

Woman #2: “I said, ‘Merry Christmas.’”

Woman #1: “No! You said, ‘Happy Holidays,’ like a liberal hippie! It’s not ‘Happy Holidays’!”

Woman #2: “Well, I didn’t say, ‘Happy Holidays,’ now, did I?! I am not a liberal hippie! Do I look like a liberal hippie to you?! I only ever say, ‘Merry Christmas’!”

Their argument continued as they walked out the door and into the coffee shop next door. I can only hope, for the sake of the employees next door, that their argument ended quickly!

I work at a beachside timeshare resort in Florida. With big money comes big entitlement, and whooooo, boy, is the entitlement strong with these folks.

In the span of eight hours last night:

A guest stopped me during my rounds and made light conversation. They asked for my name; I gave them my first name. They asked for my last name, as well; I refused, citing that I was uncomfortable giving that information out on the job. They then asked for my badge number and what entity I was employed with. I said I had no badge number; it’s private security contracted out to the resort. They walked away after that and went right to the front desk, where they filed a complaint because I didn’t give them my last name or badge number.

Another guest got mad because I had apparently “sniffed” my nose at them as I walked by. My allergies are acting up right now.

A guest asked for an extra blanket. I found one and brought it to them. When I got there, they asked, “Can I have a pink one, instead?”

Someone lit off fireworks somewhere off of but close to the property. Guests called the front desk and asked for security to shut down the fireworks; it was 1:00 am so that’s understandable. When I said the fireworks were not on property, a guest said, “I’m calling someone who can actually do their job.”

Amidst a chaotic and frustrating night, I did have some time to finally sit down and breathe. A guest saw me, took a photo, and said they were showing management that I was sitting on the job.

I would leave today if I wasn’t the only one on this post.

My youngest son comes up with some very entertaining one-liners. While watching “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2” for the umpteenth time, we get to the part where it is revealed that one of the Weasley twins has died, but my husband and I can never remember which twin it is. My son offers up this gem.

Son: “It’s Fred, the one who still has his ear…” *slight pause* “…not that he’s going to need it anymore.”

I ended up laughing hysterically at a normally sad moment in this movie.

When I was seven months pregnant, I went on walks in the evenings to keep myself active. My husband usually walked with me, but for some reason — I forget why — he didn’t want to go with me this night, so off I went on my stroll, sticking to the areas illuminated by the lamp posts. We didn’t live in a particularly dangerous area and this was the route I would take with my husband anyway, so I wasn’t worried about going alone.

I didn’t see anyone around at first, but then something caught my eye from behind me. A shadow was getting closer. I kept walking, trying to walk faster but not so fast that I would alert the person behind me. The shadow got closer; I could hear their footsteps now.

They were almost right on top of me when I turned around, planted my feet, and threw everything I had into one punch straight into my follower’s face. 

My husband stood there, blood pouring from his nose, utterly shocked. We walked back together as I apologized non-stop. We went to the hospital to make sure he was okay. While we were waiting to be seen:

Me: “What were you doing?”

Husband: “I thought it was dumb to let my pregnant wife go walking alone. Now I see it was dumb to go along.”

Our premium brand of ham is on sale this week. A lady wearing a large cross necklace approaches my counter.

Customer: “Can I have two-thirds of a pound of the [Premium Brand] ham, please?”

Me: “Two-thirds of [Premium Brand] ham? Coming right up.”

I slice the meat and put it on the scale. Much to my satisfaction, the quantity it displays is exactly .66 lbs and the price is $6.66. The customer, on the other hand, is staring horrified at it.

Customer: “Um… how many slices was that?

I put the meat in a bag and start to hand it to her.

Me: “Thirteen.”

Customer: “And… you’re handing it to me with your left hand?”

Me: “Is there a problem?”

She closes her eyes, raises her hand, and counts to three on her fingers, silently mouthing the numbers as she does so.

Me: “Ma’am? Is there a problem?”

Customer: “AAAAAHHHHH! AAAAHHHHH!”

Her eyes snapped open wide and she screamed at the top of her lungs. She literally ripped the cross necklace off her neck and waved it frantically at me, then turned and went barrelling out the front door of the store at full speed.