I am working as a shift leader at a movie theatre. Concession closes about ten minutes after the last shows start and the crew leaves once the tills are counted and everything has been cleaned and refilled for the next morning, leaving only two people to spend the time doodling around and checking theatres as the films drop out.

This evening has been slow but fun, as I got to work with two of my favorite coworkers, friends I also hang with off of work. Being a shift leader gives me power over them at work and more responsibility but it has never really affected our friendship until now. [Coworker #1] and I are the ones staying tonight, so [Coworker #2] comes up to us after she has changed out of her uniform for some small talk before leaving. As she’s beginning to walk away, she tells us that she will take a bag of chips with her but pay the next time she works. I sense alarm bells ringing and tell her I am not okay with that. 

The chain we work for is very generous with staff discounts and lenient with us. They trust us, and I am of the opinion that such trust should be respected and not taken advantage of; I do not want to see that trust disappear. [Coworker #2] taking a bag of chips might not seem like a huge deal, but it puts a lot of responsibility on me and [Coworker #1] to make sure she actually pays for it later, which she could claim to have done on a day when [Coworker #1] and I don’t work, and she could easily forget it, as well. I trust my friend, but I am not comfortable with this and I tell her that if she’s craving chips so badly, there is a gas station ten minutes away by bike that’s open 24/7.

[Coworker #2] throws a huge fit, but I stand my ground, and it is with sadness that I watch her flounce off. 

The next day, she sends me a text apologising, telling me I was right and she was wrong. She has talked with another friend who works in retail who had agreed with me. The apology is accepted, but clearly, something broke between us that evening. We used to hang at work and off of work several times a week. Afterward, we only hang at work. We still chat like before, but our times together off of work dwindle to maybe once every two months, often when [Coworker #1] is with us. Later that year, I am not even invited to her birthday party, and while she says the party was a surprise for her and others were organising it, they still know that I was one of her closest friends and I should have been on the list by default. Some might claim I was too harsh — it’s just a bag of chips after all — but even though I miss the friendship we used to have, my conscience is clear.

(Whilst I’m at work, I spot some friends of mine browsing the frozen food aisle. As it’s quiet and I have nothing that needs doing, I decide to say hello.)

Me: *to friends* “Excuse me, madam. I’m going to have to ask you to leave as you’re causing trouble.”

(My friends laugh at the joke. However, a lady nearby doesn’t find it funny.)

Lady: “How dare you?! They weren’t doing anything wrong! The staff here are very rude; I want to complain!”

Friend: “Grandma, it’s okay; we know him! He’s joking!”

(My friend’s Grandma gave me a dirty look, and has done so every time we’ve met since!)

(I am a student nurse, about a year from graduation. A friend of mine calls.)

Me: “Hello?”

Friend: “So, you’re a nurse, right?”

Me: “I already don’t like where this is going, and I’m a student nurse. Not–”

Friend: “Okay, well, I have some gravel deep in my hand. Can I just pour some gin on it and be fine?”

(Gin also happens to be his favorite alcohol.)

Me: “What?! Hang on; how did you get gravel in your hand and how deep is it?”

Friend: “I was on my bike and some a**hole opened their car door right in front of me and I went down pretty hard. And here, let me just take a picture.”

(He sends me a picture of his hand, showing that the gravel is dug in pretty deep and firmly stuck in so rinsing it with anything won’t get it out.)

Me: “You need to get tweezers and pull out the gravel, rinse it with water, put something like Neosporin on it, and cover it with a bandaid.”

Friend: “Well, I don’t have tweezers or any of that, really.”

Me: “You live in NYC. There’s definitely some kind of drug store or corner store you can get this stuff in.”

Friend: “I don’t want to spend money on things I already have at home, so can I just pour gin on it?”

Me: *sighs* “I cannot condone this at all but rinsing it with water is probably the best option.”

Friend: “So, gin is okay?”

Me: “If you’re intent on using alcohol, use straight vodka, instead, BUT I CANNOT CONDO–”

Friend: “Okay, thanks, bye!” *hangs up*

(He texts me a picture of his hand. He has used a prong of his watch to dig out the gravel, causing himself to bleed more and making the entire area fairly red. He texts me an hour or so later.)

Friend: “The barkeeper wouldn’t just give me some vodka, so I had to buy it and go into the bathroom to rinse it. Thanks again!”

Me: “This still was not your best option and I cannot condone this behavior.”

(He never replied.)

(I am a Christian attending a youth event at one of our sister churches along with my own small youth group. One of my friends from youth group, who is asexual, knows a girl who attends this sister church and is also at the event. She finds her and brings her over. We find a place to sit and make small talk over pizza for a while. My friend leaves to go get more punch and the other girl turns to me.)

Girl: “So, you’re ace?”

Me: *a little shocked because I haven’t said anything about it* “Um, yeah.”

Girl: *suspiciously* “Do you like dragons?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Girl: *slams hand on the floor* “EVERY ace person I’ve met likes dragons!”

(My friend came back and we talked about dragons and cake. I’m not sure which was funnier, the girl’s frustration or the fact that both dragons and cake are inside jokes in the ace community!)

It was Halloween and the local theatre was playing The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

My best friend and I dressed up. He went as Rocky and I decided to dress as Frank N Furter. We went all out.

When we arrived at the cinema, the usher told us that there was a half-hour wait before the screen would open to allow us inside. The film did not start for forty-five minutes.

My friend and I waited in the coffee shop past the ticket check with all of the other Rocky Horror fans, when I noticed that some people were going into the screen we had been directed to. I made a comment and my friend dragged us after the people so we could choose some good seats before they were taken.

We pushed open the doors — my friend in his golden hot pants and body glitter, me as a sweet transvestite — to a completely full theatre, waiting for the tail end of the season’s most popular action movie.

Rather than turn tail and run, my friend suddenly clapped and remarked that he hadn’t seen the film. He pulled me into a seat and I slowly sank deeper and deeper as we watched the last ten minutes of Looper.

So many people turned around in their seats to catch a glimpse of us in costume, and whispered to one another, that no one could hear the dialogue for the end of the film.

When the film ended, we stayed in our seats and watched Rocky Horror without an issue. When we got chatting to one of the ushers as we were leaving, they remarked that they had seen us slip into the theatre, but thought that the reactions we would get were too funny to bother stopping us.