Starting from the NES, I have been playing video games since I was three years old. I have played on every gaming console since then, and I even store some money away for future purchases. Lately, I’ve been wanting the PlayStation 5, but like many others, none of my local stores have had any in stock for more than maybe five minutes. I am getting to the point where I joke to my friends that the system doesn’t actually exist.

However, one day, I head out to the closest big box store to just get some food for later. I decide to kind of dress up, and I even have makeup on, thereby passing off as someone who reasonably has their life together. I’m just walking around a little, and I pass through the electronics department, where I spot the impossible. It’s a PlayStation 5 for sale. The price is… somewhat reasonable, and I have enough stored away. I go over to the nearest associate.

Me: “Excuse me! You have a PlayStation 5 for sale. I’d like it, please.”

Cashier #1: “You… want a PlayStation?”

Me: “Yes, please. Is it on hold for someone?”

Cashier #1: “No, but… it’s the [Rated-M Game] bundle. Are you sure?”

Me: “I literally do not care what game it comes bundled with. I want the console, and I want it a year ago. Please, thank you.”

They get the console for me and take it to the front to hold until I finish my shopping. I speed through, pay for the smaller items, and then hurry to customer service to pay for my new system.

Me: “They have a PlayStation back here for [My Name]? I’d like to pay for it now.”

Cashier #2: “Okay, yeah. That’s the [Rated-M Game] bundle, right? Are you sure about this? It’s rated M. That means it’s—”

Me: “Dude. Listen to me. I don’t care about the game. This is my money. My system. I want my PlayStation 5 now, please. Ring it up, and let me buy it.”

It wasn’t until I was home and talking about it with my friends that I finally realized that I probably looked like some mom buying a late present for her kid and was about to give a child a Rated-M game. That’s when I found it hilarious.

I live in Hawaii. In 2019, a friend of mine flew my wife and me out to Independence, Missouri, to attend his wedding which was taking place in Sedalia.

When it came time for the wedding, I was to drop my wife off in Sedalia for the bachelorette party and then return to Independence for the bachelor party.

On the way to Sedalia, the car we had rented needed gas, so I pulled into a [Gas Station] on the interstate and got out. A customer standing nearby spoke to me.

Customer: “Hey, your gas tank is on the wrong side for that pump.”

Me: “Oh, that’s all right. I don’t mind.”

Customer: “No, you can’t use that pump.”

Me: “What? I’m sure it will be fine.” *Laughs*

Customer: “I can guarantee you it won’t be.”

Me: “It will be. I’m sorry, but I am in a hurry.”

The man shrugged and turned away.

I scanned my card and grabbed the hose. Once the pump was in my hand, I confidently walked around the car, and the pump stopped dead, yanking me back so I nearly fell over into the car, dropping the nozzle.

Customer: “Was it fine?”

I never stopped to consider that the hose for the pump couldn’t extend. In Hawaii, every gas station has a reel system that allows the hose to extend and retract so that the driver can pump on either side of the car.

This [Gas Station] did not; the hose length was all you got.

Me: “It doesn’t… extend…”

Customer: “I tried to tell you.”

Me: “You tried to tell me…”

Customer: “Yup.” 

Me: “Yup.”

I got back into the car and pulled around to the other side, fueled up, and left. 

The moral of the story? Listen to the locals.

I’m a graphic artist, and several of my clients are politicians. Here are some of the requests they’ve made.

Client #1: “Make me thinner.”

Client #2: “Give me more hair.”

Client #3: “Remove the bags under my eyes.”

Client #4: “Use this photo of my face, but put me in the suit from this magazine — you know, like paper dolls.”

Client #5: “I love this old photo of me, but my ex-wife is in it. Take her out and put in my current wife.”

Client #6: “Here’s a photo of me debating my opponent. Make me look taller than him. Also, could you make it look like he’s sweating?”

Client #7: “It’s important that everyone sees how family-oriented I am. Make my wife stand out more. Now make my kids stand out more. Now make me stand out more, because now you can’t tell I’m the focal point.”

The best, though, is that this has been an exchange I’ve had with every politician client.

Client #8: “Above all, this has to be unique!”

Me: “Understood.”

Client #8: “Great. Now use the American flag as a background, and make the text red and blue.”

Caller: “I’d like the number of the Tate’s Grill, please.”

Operator: “I’m sorry, there’s no listing. Are you sure that the spelling is correct?”

Caller: “Well, it used to be called the State’s Grill, but the S fell off.”

I live in a flat right by a Canterbury tourist attraction: a medieval gateway that’s the largest of its kind in the country. It’s a frequent stop for guided tours of the city. I work from home and, as such, get to hear a lot of facts about the gateway as the guides talk to their groups.

One summer, I have the window wide open when I hear this.

Guide: “And this gateway was paid for by a man called…”

He dries up, leaving an awkward pause. I decide to help the poor guy out and yell out of my window:

Me: “Simon Sudbury, 1380!”

He looked around, surprised, trying to work out where my voice was coming from. He didn’t look up and see me, however. After a pause, he called out, “Thanks!” and continued with the rest of his spiel.

As a volunteer tour guide elsewhere in Canterbury, I know what it’s like to suddenly forget a name in a speech you’ve done hundreds of times. I just hope the poor man wasn’t too confused by the “helpful ghost” and got the rest of his tour done smoothly!