(I am making a call to a customer service line.)

Employee #1: “Hello, thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Me: “Yes, I just bought the collector’s edition of [Game] for the Playstation 4, and it does not have the DLC codes included.”

Employee #1: “Yes, we are aware that there was an error with the packaging. You should receive your downloadable content code to the email inbox that you used to preorder the game.”

Me: “But I didn’t preorder it.”

Employee #1: *pause* “Then how did you get it?”

Me: “I bought it at a local retail store.”

Employee #1: “Really?”

Me: “Yeah, why?”

Employee #1: “That collector’s edition has been sold out for months. How could you have found one at a retail store?”

Me: “Well, I live in Alaska, so there isn’t always as much competition.”

Employee #1: “Okay. What I need you to do is take a picture of the game and the receipt and email it to us at [address], then call back and ask for me. My name is [Employee #1].”

Me: “Okay.”

(I do as she asks and call back.)

Employee #2: “Hello, thank you for calling [Company]. How can I help you today?”

Me: Hi, I just spoke with [Employee #1] about [Game].”

Employee #2: “Oh! You’re the guy from Alaska! We’ve all been talking about how you are! Have you tried playing the lottery today, as well?”

It was the second to last day of a summer scheme my best friend and I were attending. That day they had a water fight. Even though there was a “ceasefire in the refill zone” rule, most people didn’t obey it. I had just got outside, the last to do so, and a boy with a bucket spotted me. He cornered me and called out to his friend, who also had a bucket, “Target practice!” And they started soaking me.

After I managed to escape, I grabbed a squirty-foam-pole-thingy and ran around hitting people with it because my water gun had very little water in it and I needed to save it for revenge on the boys — at this point, they were chasing me. Combined with my best friend giving me terrible advice, and a girl who was freaking out and splashing a hose at everyone whether they were going for her or not, I wasn’t doing very well.

When I managed to hide behind a bush to gather my bearings and re-organise myself, I spotted three people: two boys and a girl. The boy was squirting the girl, who was squirting back; however, she wasn’t trying to squirt the first boy. She was trying to squirt the boy’s friend, who had nothing and was soaking wet and cowering behind his friend. I threw my squirty-foam-pole-thingy at her to temporarily distract her and quickly scooted over and gave my water gun to the boy.

“Here. It’s not got much water left, but it’ll keep you covered for the rest of the game,” I told him, and he and his friend scooted off, quickly followed by the girl, without so much as a thank you. I picked my squirty-foam-pole-thingy back up, extended it fully, and went around beating people up for the rest of the game. I even braved the hose girl.

Later, in the car on the way home, my dad told me that I was very brave to “take a water bullet” for someone I didn’t know, and that he would have me by his side in a war any day.

(I’m pretty good with crane games, and I play them anytime I go to a certain store. I put a couple dollars into a machine one day and win three plush toys: a popular superhero and two of his villains. As I’m waiting for my mom and sister to catch up to me, a man with three young boys walk out of the store.)

Boy #1: *pointing at me* “Oh, look! She’s got [Superhero] and [Villain #1] and [Villain #2]!”

Boy #2: *excitedly pointing at the machine* “She got ’em outta there!”

Boy #3: *tugs his dad’s sleeve* “Daddy, can you win us something? I want [Villain #1]! He’s my favorite!”

Boys’ Dad: *sighs* “I can try. I never can win anything out of those things.”

Me: *holding out the toys* “Here. Take them.”

Boys’ Dad: “Are you sure?”

Me: *nodding* “Oh, yeah. Take them. I’ve got loads of stuff like this at home because I play those games so much. Honestly, my mom would probably appreciate you taking them with you.”

(As I say this, my mom and sister have finally caught up to me.)

Mom: *sighs* “Really, [My Name]? Why do you keep playing those things? You’ve got more stuffed toys than you can shake a stick at.”

Me: *grinning* “See? I told you she would want you to take them.”

Boys: *each grabbing a toy* “YAY! Thank you!”

Boys’ Dad: “Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.”

Mom: “No, thank you! She’s won so many stuffed animals and things out of those machines that it’s ridiculous. Thank you for keeping them out of my house.”

(I don’t carry cash on me these days, but for the next six or so years after that I would give any toys I won to nearby children to keep from driving my mom crazy.)

(My mom is watching me play a popular video game where you can throw your hat to “capture” different enemies and use their powers. One such enemy throws fireballs. I’m attempting to capture this enemy, but just as I throw my hat, he throws a fireball. The hat knocks the fire back into the enemy, killing it.)

Me: “Well, that backfired.”

(Beat.)

Mom: “Seriously?”

Me: “I swear, I didn’t mean to make a pun!”

(My friends and I are playing a custom Dungeons and Dragons scenario the Dungeon Master created, since we find them more fun. My friend often flirts with me or my character, which I don’t really mind. We are in the middle of a battle, where my ranger is using his bow as a makeshift shield against an enemy’s sword.)

Me: “I need a bit of help here.”

Friend: “I throw my spear at the enemy attacking [My Name].”

Dungeon Master: *roll the dice and gets a one* “Okay, you—”

Friend: “—wait! Before I throw, I shout to [My Name], ‘Your eyes shine beautifully like the crystal clear lake on a frosty winter morning!’ and then I throw. I also pray the compliment will make him forgive me for the spear.”

Dungeon Master: “You throw the spear. It impales [My Name] and deals four points of damage.”

Me: “Firstly, thanks for the compliment. Secondly, f*** you for the spear, and thirdly, no, it did not.”