I’m bagging at the grocery store, chatting with a cashier I’m friendly with about comics and video games. While we’re working, one of the store’s higher-ups is pacing around the registers. I’m not sure what her actual position was; somewhere between a CDH and a vice-manager or something. Whatever it was, she liked to micromanage us when she had nothing better to do, which was frequently.

While we’re doing our duties, I’m explaining the plot to the game ‘Injustice: Gods Among Us’ to the cashier.

Me: “So, basically, the Joker manages to brainwash Superman…”

Suddenly, she barges over to us and starts wagging her finger.

Higher-Up: “Hey! No chatting in front of the customers!”

We stop chatting, and she walks away. That was fair; it’s not the most professional to be shooting the breeze right in front of customers. We work quietly until the queue is cleared, and then I resume my summary.

Me: “So anyway, Joker brainwashes Superman, and somehow gets him to straight-up kill like, everyone in Metropolis, and—”

She stomps over again.

Higher-Up: “I told you to stop that!”

She walks away again. I’m not sure what the problem was, as there are no customers, but I assume maybe the problem was talking about violent stuff. Alright, fine. When the queue is clear, I start the summary again, carefully choosing my words to avoid overtly violent descriptions.

Me: “Okay… so the Joker brainwashes Superman and, uh… gets him to do a really bad thing, and then Superman comes charging in, and…”

She stomps over again.

Higher-Up: “Are we going to have a problem here?!

Me: “Okay, I’m not trying to be insubordinate here, but there are no customers, and I’m trying to tone it down. What’s the problem?

Higher-Up: “Just stop talking about that stupid comic book s***! Nobody wants to hear that!”

She stomps away, and the cashier and I exchange flabbergasted looks.

Cashier: “THAT’S what the problem was?”

Me: “What the h*** are we “allowed” to talk about? Grocery prices?”

We decided to just wait until she wandered off to find someone else to bother, and then we were finally able to resume our chat, unbothered. All while still doing our jobs just fine, by the way. If any customers cared about what we were talking about, they didn’t make any particular scene about it.

I received a Nintendo 64 for Christmas just before I turned 11. It was brand new and the latest thing. It came with one game, Super Mario 64. By late spring, I had already completed the entire game more than once. All the stars, all the secrets; there was no game left to discover.

I had been going back to playing my older consoles when I played games, but I had nothing new, and I still had over half a year before my next birthday and Christmas. The cost of a game would take a huge chunk of my $3 every two weeks allowance I earned doing chores.

So, I figure, it never hurts to ask.

Me: “Mom?”

Mom: “Yes, Honey?”

Me: “My Nintendo 64 only came with one game, and I’ve played it all the way through and done everything in it more than once. There’s nothing new to do in it. It’s a long time until Christmas and January. So, I was wondering, could I please have one new game now? You can count it as one of this year’s Christmas presents.”

Mom: “Hmm, that makes sense. Sure, you can have a game. Something new to play over the summer. And don’t worry, I won’t get you fewer Christmas presents this year.”

Me: “Really? Thanks, Mom!” *I hug her.*

Mom: “What game would you like?”

Me: “Star Wars: Shadows of the Empire.”

Sure enough, when she goes out with her friend for lunch, they stop on the way home and pick up the exact game I wanted. I had a new game to enjoy without waiting for another holiday.

A few years later, my family is talking, and the topic of my video game collection comes up.

Me: “I remember the end of fifth grade. I only had one game for my Nintendo 64 and had played it to death. I asked Mom if I could have a new game, so I had something new to play over the summer, and she was nice enough to buy ‘Shadows of the Empire’ for me.”

Mom: *Furrowing her brow.* “What are you talking about? When did I ever buy you a game in the summer?”

Me: “June 1997. You went out with [Friend] and came back with a game I asked for because I had nothing new to play.”

Mom: *Getting angry.* “Oh my god, you’re making things up! I’d never just buy a video game for no reason.”

Me: *Surprised that sharing a nice memory has started a conflict.* “Uh, yeah, you bought me a game because I had nothing new to play until Christmas.”

Mom: “You’re so full of crap! There’s no way I’d ever be stupid enough to let you trick me into buying you a video game!”

My family moved on to something else, and my mom remained in a sour mood for a while. I know my mom doesn’t care about video games any more than considering them something her son likes, but I don’t know why it seemed unthinkable that she might have done something nice for me by purchasing me an extra game once.

When I was in my early teens, a bunch of my schoolmates and I were into Warhammer and often went to the Games Workshop place in the city together because they had painting and gaming tables so we could hang out for hours.

Multiple times we were there, there’d be some parent who would come and try to drop their kid (usually aged between six and ten) off while they did whatever so the kid could “have fun and play”.

The workers all had a very, very firm attitude to this.

Worker: “Ma’am, we aren’t babysitters. Children under twelve must be supervised by a parent at all times.”

Parent: “Oh, I won’t be long; he just wants to look around and play with some of the toys.”

Worker: “These aren’t toys, and again… we aren’t babysitters. We will not watch your child.”

Parent: “He won’t need to be watched; he’s very well behaved! I won’t be long—”

Worker: “—I feel like I’m not being clear, so let me be. The nearest police station is a two-minute walk away. We have their number. If he’s here when you leave, they will be called.”

Parent: *Angry.* “You’re a bunch of children-hating a**holes!”

Worker: “We sell game items set in a relentlessly bleak universe of endless war, fanatical empires, demonic corruption, torture, genocide, and gruesome death, and you wanted to leave your child here unattended. Who hates children?”

She stormed out, and I breathed a sigh of relief. When I spoke to that worker about it later, they explained that a while back they would tolerate a kid hanging out once in a while and even invited them to try to paint a figure or two (potential future customer, right?), but they would mostly cause trouble and destroy brushes and paints, so that sadly had to stop.

I’m in a tabletop roleplaying group with three other people; the DM (Dungeon Master) and another guy are old friends of mine, while the third one is a newcomer to the group. 

The DM is having a big birthday party and invites all of us; [Old Friend’s Fiancée] and his sister are also friends of the DM’s, so they’re invited too. [Old Friend], [Fiancée], and [Sister] arrive together.

Every time [Newcomer] is in Fiancée’s orbit, whether [Old Friend] is there or not, he starts flirting with her. He’s not being aggressive or rude, but he’s clearly trying to impress her. She’s a very polite person, and I think [Old Friend] finds it more funny than anything, so neither of them shuts him down entirely, but I’m baffled at why this guy thinks he has a shot with a woman who’s engaged, especially right in front of her partner.

Finally, he and I are in the kitchen with no one else around.

Me: “Dude, why do you keep hitting on [Fiancée]?”

Newcomer: “What? I’m not!”

Me: “Yes, you are.”

Newcomer: “I’ve barely talked to [Fiancée].”

Me: “You’ve been talking to her non-stop!”

Newcomer: “No, I’ve been talking to [Sister].”

Me: “…the one wearing the green shirt?”

Newcomer: “Yeah, of course.”

Me: “[Newcomer]. That is not [Sister]. That is [Fiancée].”

Newcomer: “What? No way!”

Now, at this point, if he’d said the confusion was because [Old Friend] and [Fiancée] look more alike (both have blue eyes and dark hair, while [Sister] has hazel eyes and dyes her hair red), or even just that he’d just gotten them mixed up when they came in together, I would chalk it up to a humourous misunderstanding. Instead, he comes out with:

Newcomer: “But she’s really hot! I assumed she was his sister and the other one was his fiancée because there’s no way he could pull someone like her. [Sister] is definitely more in his league.”

Me: “…Are you saying he should be marrying his sister?”

Newcomer: “No, just that it would make more sense for him to be with someone with looks like hers, you know, not a pretty girl.”

Bear in mind, this guy isn’t exactly winning any beauty contests himself, and as should be obvious, he’s not oozing with charm, either. It’s one thing to have an opinion about someone’s looks, and another to just casually say that you think two people are unattractive and thus unworthy of being with an attractive person. 

Unsurprisingly, more unappealing things about him came out over time, and he was not invited to play in our next campaign or to any more parties.

A customer is looking at a $199 low-end laptop.

Customer: “Can this play Cyberpunk 2077?”

Me: “That is a game I have at home that just about runs on 32GB of RAM.”

Customer: “So… can this play Cyberpunk 2077?”

Me: “That has 4GB of RAM, so… no.”

Customer: “What if I play it on low settings?”

Me: “Let me put it this way. If you want to spend under $200 for a gaming laptop, I really hope you like Solitaire…”