I’m on a medium-distance train, which has an at-seat trolley service of drinks and light refreshments available to buy. It’s about half an hour before the man with the trolley reaches my carriage and shouts out his sales pitch.

Man: “Hot and cold drinks! Sandwiches and crisps! Sweets and cake! Anybody for hot and cold drinks? Sandwiches and crisps? Sweets and cake?”

Me: “Hi! Can I have a cup of tea?”

Man: “Sorry, the water heater’s broken; I’ve not got any tea or coffee.”

Me: “Okay, can I have a can of [Drink]?”

Man: “I’m afraid not. I ran out of canned and bottled drinks at [Stop about an hour earlier in the train’s journey].”

Me: “Oh, no drinks? Okay, what sandwiches have you got?”

Man: “They didn’t put any on at [Departure Station], so there’s none today.”

Me: “Right. Crisps?”

Man: “Sold out.”

Me: “[Chocolate Bar]?”

Man: “Nope.”

Me: “Do you actually have anything?“

Man: *Looking confused* “Uh, erm… no, the trolley’s a bit empty, I’m afraid.”

Me: *Being very British about things* “Righty-oh, never mind, then. Thanks.”

Man: *Back to being bright again* “You’re welcome! Have a good journey!”

Man: *Shouting* “Hot and cold drinks! Sandwiches and crisps! Sweets and cake! Anybody for hot and cold drinks? Sandwiches and crisps? Sweets and cake?”

He came by again twice before I got off the train.

Because of the large age difference between me and my brother, my niece is significantly older than my own son. While normally having a default babysitter is a blessing, it would be better if she didn’t remember my own behaviour as a young twenty-something and wasn’t egged on by her dad seeking revenge for when I was her babysitter.

When my son was a toddler, he had an intolerance for dairy, and therefore wasn’t allowed ice cream. She got him sherbet.

When my son was struggling with his reading, I said he wasn’t allowed to watch Pokémon until he read at least two books on weekends. She got him the Pokémon novel set.

When there was a heatwave, I said my son wasn’t allowed to play outside because he’d already gotten heatstroke twice. She took him to the ice skate rink.

When I had to take back my promise to take them both to the movies because I was stuck working multiple shifts in a row, she took him to watch the latest Marvel movie without me. (And then they both spoiled the whole thing for me.)

When I tried to block naughty websites, my son worked out how to bypass my nanny filter. She blocked the sites for both of us.

I grounded my son because he wasn’t participating in English class. She showed him how to find the “inappropriate” jokes in Shakespeare’s plays. Now he participates too much.

My son is now nearly an adult. He is considering becoming a lawyer. It’s her fault, I’m sure.

Client: “I would like jacklinks to all of the different things within the story.”

Me: “Jacklinks?”

Client: “Yeah, when I go to other people’s stories, there are always jacklinks that take you to different sites when you click on them.”

Me: “You mean hyperlink. Jacklinks are jerky.”

Client: “You should fix that, then. I don’t want the site to be jerky.”

My work leases a laptop, monitor, and accessories for each employee through a third party. Employees submit a ticket for new equipment when the lease expires. When my current laptop is up for replacement, I don’t bother to submit a ticket for a new one. Unlike my previous laptop, this one is still working perfectly well and it seems like a waste to order a new one, especially in the middle of the global chip shortage.

About six months later, I receive an email advising me that the lease has expired, the laptop is out of warranty, and I must order a new one. No problem. I fill out the ticket and hit submit. A few weeks later, I receive an email with an update on my new laptop. Due to supply issues, any available stock is being used to fulfil orders for new staff and lost, stolen, or damaged equipment.

After not ordering a new laptop because of the global chip shortage and then being told I had to order a new one, my order was cancelled due to the global chip shortage.

My parents are given, as something of a joke, a life-size cardboard cutout of a certain former President of the United States. After having it in the living room for a couple of weeks and thoroughly amusing everyone who sees it, they put it in their basement, where I at least forget about it entirely.

A year or so later, my best friend and I go to the hardware store and pick up salt tablets for my parents’ water softener. We bring them into the garage, which has a secondary entrance to the basement, and I go to open the door and turn on the light. I promptly scream and run out again.

A moment later, my stepfather — whose home office is adjacent to the garage — bursts through his door looking alarmed.

Stepdad: “Are you all right?!”

Me: *Embarrassed* “Yeah…”

Stepdad: “What happened?”

Me: “We got the tablets for your water softener. I went to open the basement door and Donald Trump scared me.”

He cracked up laughing and went back to work. Apparently, the same thing happens every time they have someone come and work on their heating system.