(I’m a cashier. It’s the dead of winter so my skin is pretty pale.)

Customer: “You know, your make-up would look more natural if you didn’t use a foundation that was so light.”

Me: “I’m not wearing any make-up.”

Customer: “You’re lying. You’re just one of those goth girls or vampire fans.”

Me: *rolling up my sleeve so she can see that the rest of me is just as white* “Nope, I’m just super pale.”

Customer: “Oh, God, you’re not lying. That’s gross!”

(I didn’t really know how else to respond and honestly was kind of hurt so the rest of the transaction went by in mostly awkward silence. Also, I’m not an albino or anything so I don’t know why the customer thought this wasn’t my natural skin color.)

(My best friend and I are working at the same store. I work with our general merchandise, while he works in a specialized department that includes minor repair work and installation. On this day, shortly before his shift is set to start, I receive a text from him.)

Friend’s Text: “Hey, I was just in a car accident. Some guy rear-ended me. I’m okay, but I have to go to the hospital and get some x-rays and stuff. My neck and back are hurting really badly.”

My Response: “OMG! I’m glad you’re okay! I’ll tell [General Manager] for you.”

(I hunt down the general manager.)

Me: “Hey, [Friend] just texted me and told me that he was in a car accident. His neck and back are all messed up and they have to take him to the ER to get checked out.”

General Manager: *immediately panicked* “Is he coming in later?”

Me: “Um… I kind of doubt it…”

(It’s around 4:00 pm and the store is only open five more hours.)

General Manager: “Can you find out?”

Me: “Okay.”

(I pull out my phone and head back to where I was working.)

Me: “[General Manager] wants to know if you think you’ll be in later.”

Friend: “Yeah, no. I’m in an ambulance. My car is f***** up. My back is f***** up.”

Me: “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

(Lucky me, I got to break the “bad news” to the general manager. She rushed off to try to find coverage for his department, not saying another word about him to me. The accident was bad enough to more or less ruin his spine, and he’s still suffering from it many years later. He was put on light duty by a doctor and wasn’t allowed to lift more than five pounds. They discovered a long time after that his hip had been dislocated and have been attempting to correct it. Yes, he was not in danger of losing his life, but I’ll never forget how ridiculous her response to the situation was.)

My dad is somewhat notorious for having things happen to him. This story happens when I am away at college, and my mom is out of town, visiting her sister.

My dad needs to get up into the attic space above our garage. He sets up a ladder and lifts the covering. What he doesn’t realize is that one of the far corners has broken off. So, when he lifts the near two corners, the one remaining corner isn’t enough to hold the cover steady. It twists and falls on his head, edge on.

He yells, jumps off of the ladder, and lays down so that if he passes out, he doesn’t fall. My sisters — then something like 17 and 13 — come running out and see Dad lying on the floor of the garage, in a spreading pool of blood, and assume the worst.

They manage to compose themselves enough to get him a towel for his head, clean up the mess, etc. After a few minutes, my dad comes to the conclusion that he does not have a concussion — he’s had them before and knows what they feel like–  and that his head is now only oozing, and therefore he is capable of driving himself to the ER. He does not have a cellphone and refuses to borrow my sister’s.

I get home from a day of classes to see that my sister has posted on Facebook, “My dad cut his head open, and is driving himself to the ER. Please pray.” I also assume the worst, especially since my mom is out of town. I call home in a panic and find out that at least it’s not as bad as I had feared.

He ends up getting several staples in his head until it heals. After this and a few other — thankfully more minor — incidents, we have told him he is not allowed to do any work on the house when my mom is gone.

The only thing about this that annoys him: this happens the day after Halloween, so he has this nasty-looking head wound too late to make a costume out of it.

Five years later, driving yourself to the ER without a cellphone is still a byword for stupidity in our family.

(Where I work, when someone on staff has a birthday, we get all the kids together and share a cake. A coworker is a coeliac, while I am just gluten intolerant, so we generally never get any; even on my own birthday they forgot. But this is the worst.)

Coworker: “Hey, did you get any cake?”

Me: “Oh, no, thank you.”

Coworker: “You sure? We have heaps left! A little won’t hurt you!”

Me: “It will actually… I’m gluten intolerant, remember?”

Coworker: “It can’t be that bad! Just a little piece. I don’t want to throw it out.”

Me: “Well, it’s nice going in, but when it comes back out through both ends I really don’t enjoy it that much.”

Coworker: “Wow, that’s too much information. Geeze! I didn’t need to know that.”

Me: “I’m hoping it will get you to stop asking. I am easily tempted by food and it’s hard to say no.”

Coworker: “Then don’t say no!”

Me: “Please go away now.”

(I’m a girl in year seven — sixth grade — and we’re learning about the reproductive system in biology. Everyone is really embarrassed, which isn’t helped by the fact that our teacher is a 40- to 50-year-old man. Naturally, there are some funny and memorable moments.)

Teacher: *labelling a diagram of the female reproductive system, pointing to the uterus* “Who can tell me what this part is called?”

Male Classmate #1: “Vagina!”

Every Female Student: *cringing*

Teacher: “No.”

Female Friend: “It’s the uterus.”

Teacher: “Correct.” *pointing to cervix on the diagram* “What about this part?”

Male Classmate #1: “Oh, I know this one… Vagina!”

Every Female Student: *cringing more*

Teacher: “No, this is the cervix.” *pointing to vagina on diagram* “Finally, who can tell me what this part’s called? [Male Classmate #1]?”

Male Classmate #1: “VAGINA!”

Every Female Student: *dying of embarrassment*

(Later:)

Teacher: “Now, what about the male reproductive system?”

(The slide changes to a cartoon side view of a penis and testicles.)

Male Classmate #2: “Why do we have to learn about this in front of the girls?”

Female Classmate: “We didn’t complain. We sat through [Male Classmate #1] shouting, ‘Vagina!’ multiple times; why shouldn’t you have to deal with the same embarrassment?”

(We girls spent the rest of the lesson answering every question with, “Penis?” Even our male teacher thought it was funny.)