(I am broke, living with my broke friends. We won some tickets to an event in another city, and a well-off relative of mine is paying for a hotel stay for me, but he has asked for my friends to contribute their fair share back. This is easily agreed upon by everyone involved, with an invoice/contract for fairness’s sake. But, naturally, it can’t be that easy. [Friend #1] pays her share right away, [Friend #2] is paying in a couple of paychecks from now, and [Friend #3] is turning into trouble. [Friend #3] is the only one of us with a full-time job, and she is only living with us because she is fighting with her boyfriend. This takes place a few months after the event.)

Friend #3: “It’s no big deal; I’ll pay at the next paycheck.”

Me: “Okay, [Relative] is getting really impatient. You promised you’d pay him last month.”

Friend #3: *scoff and rolls eyes* “Well, I had expenses! The next check is Friday.”

(What she had was a fancy manicure, several new foreign comic books, two new video games, and five character plushies.)

Me: “Then, we’ll meet with him on Monday. Be ready so we can make it quick.”

(Over the weekend, [Friend #3] brags about her new anime plushies — which she bought on Saturday — has an entirely different manicure with acrylic nails and glitter-glaze, and has some new mid-range designer clothes, and her room REEKS of reefer. On Monday, [Friend #3] refuses to come to visit my relative.)

Friend #3: *shrugs and clicks her fake fingernails together idly* “I don’t have the money. I had bills to pay, so he can wait.”

(I’m pissed at this point, because my friend’s debt is causing tension in my relationship with the one relative who ever so much as tried being kind to me after I came out. I don’t reply; I just walk to [Friend #3]’s room and grab the nearest shopping bag of brand-name consumerist garbage, still new with tags. I check what’s in the bag to find four $60 figurines of popular anime characters.)

Me: *fake smile* “I’m sure this’ll be enough. I’ll just return these for you since you need to pay back your debts and you didn’t need to buy anime character figurines.”

([Friend #3] sputters and grunts; she can’t even come up with an argument. She follows me as I load the bag into my car. Just as I sit in the driver’s seat, she gets into the car.)

Friend #3: *dejected and quiet* “Take me to [Bank], please.”

(She got out the right amount of cash, so I let her have her stuff back and took her home. I brought the cash to the relative alone to avoid drama, but then he was upset with me because I couldn’t convince him that it was her money. He still thinks I covered for her. [Friend #3] helped herself to literally all the food in the house as revenge and gave it to her boyfriend, who she moved back in with. The rest of us were forced to go hungry for the next two weeks.)

(Whilst meeting up with some university friends, I take the opportunity to give their three-year-old daughter her birthday present from a few weeks ago.)

Friend: “Now, what do we say when we get presents from people?”

Friend’s Daughter: *without missing a beat* “More presents…”

(I live in the state of Wisconsin and I have Internet friends all over, including one in North Carolina. The following is a conversation I once had with her.)

Friend: “Come give me a hug!”

Me: “Sure! I’ll be there in however long it takes me to get from Wisconsin to North Carolina.”

Friend: “Wisconsin?”

Me: “The state? Wisconsin?”

Friend: “Wisconsin is a state?”

(We get other Internet friends involved, most of them yelling at her that yes, Wisconsin is a state. I start trying to describe where it’s located to maybe get her to realize.)

Me: “Have you ever heard of the city Chicago?”

Friend: “Chicago? Yeah, isn’t it over by Idaho?”

Me: *deep sigh*

(I am a software engineer. I’ve just accepted a contract for work in my hometown and am traveling back for the first time in a decade. I don’t use social media so no one there really knows what I’ve been up to unless I was close to them. While doing basic research for the contract while on my flight, the client’s name sounds familiar, and basic snooping reveals she’s the mother of a former classmate. Thinking I can have a chuckle with the client later, I brush it aside and don’t even notice a familiar face checking me into the hotel later.)

Former Classmate: “Okay, so I have a room for [My Name]… Wait. Are you [My Name] that went to [School]?”

Me: “Huh? Oh, s***! [Former Classmate]?! Oh, h*** no… Someone has to be pranking me right now.”

Former Classmate: “Well, that’s not what I’d expect after not seeing me since high school!”

Me: “Sorry. You’re just the last person I expected to run into randomly while I was in town for work. I didn’t even know you got into the hotel business.”

Former Classmate: “That’s fair enough. What are you doing for work, then?”

Me: “Oh, this and that. I go wherever they send me and do what I need to do really.”

(We talk for a good half hour, catching up on what’s been happening in town and what mutual friends are up to.)

Former Classmate: “I hope you enjoy your time back in town! Maybe we can grab dinner and get a bunch of us back together!”

Me: “Sounds fun! Hope it doesn’t get weird, though. I’m in town to see your mom! Ha!”

(I walk away while she gives me a look of horror. I think nothing of it, but she seems to avoid me for the entire time I’m there. A few days before I leave, her mom takes me out to a fancy dinner for my work — a common thing — and brings me back to the hotel. When she learns where I’m staying, she tells me about her daughter. I tell her I’m a former classmate, and she decides to come in and have a laugh with her daughter about it.)

Former Classmate: *seeing us walk in* “OH, GOD, MOM! PLEASE, NOT WHERE I WORK!”

Client: “What? I just wanted to say hi and bring [My Name] back to his hotel.”

Former Classmate: “DO YOU HAVE TO F*** EVERY GUY I’M ATTRACTED TO?!”

Me: “Whoa! Wait, what?!”

Client: “IS THIS THE CLASSMATE YOU HAD A CRUSH ON ALL THOSE YEARS?!”

Me: “WHAT?!”

([Former Classmate] ran to the back crying. Turns out, my client was a cougar and she and her daughter had very similar taste in men. When I told her I was here to “see your mom,” she thought I was a male prostitute and couldn’t bring herself to look at me. After her manager brought her back out, I showed her my business card to prove I was NOT sleeping with her mom.)

(My friend and I are in the midst of a road trip and have pulled into a gas station. While I refuel the car, my friend goes inside to get us some drinks. There’s a woman in an extremely low-cut top hanging around by the door, and I can hear enough of what she’s calling to the people going by that I have a pretty good idea of what she’s doing. As my friend goes inside, he pauses and says something to her. Eventually, we all get back in the car.)

Me: “What’d you say to that woman?”

Friend: “Who?”

Me: “Over there by the door. I saw you talking to her.”

Friend: “Oh, it’s nothing. I just told her I didn’t have any change.”

Me: “Dude, she’s not begging. She’s a prostitute. She was propositioning you.”

Friend: “Wait, what?! I wasn’t listening! I just assumed she was asking for money!”

Me: “Well, technically, she was! She doesn’t do it for free!”