I work in a hotel. Our sundry shop has some nicer products like nicer toothbrushes, combs, floss, etc., but we do keep some free sample products like cheap toothbrushes and toothpaste packets for complimentary use.

We have deodorant back there for free, as well, but the only kind we have is a travel-sized name-brand deodorant. It’s just a “clean breeze” smell, and I have used it for days when I forgot to apply. It is technically women’s deodorant, but men can use it, too, and it’s just waxy armpit smelly stuff, so the fact that it’s gendered is stupid in the first place.

A guest asks if we have any simple toiletries in the back because he forgot his toiletries. I give him a toothbrush, comb, toothpaste packet, moisturizer, face wipes, and the deodorant. He picks up everything but the deodorant.

Guest: “Do you have any other kind? I’m not using my wife’s deodorant.”

Me: “That’s the only kind we offer. But [Store] is two minutes away and you can pick your favorite there.”

Guest: “I’ll be fine without it for two days. Never mind. Keep it.”

Sir, you would rather be stinky than try on “clean breeze” deodorant because it’s feminine? Gross.

I work in a hotel. I’m on a 9:00 pm to 7:00 am night audit shift. At 10:30 pm, a family of four — a dad, a mom, their preschool-aged toddler, and their infant — are in the lobby. They are just enjoying life. I give them a hello.

Couple: “We love your hotel! We have a bed for ourselves and a bed for our kiddos, and it’s just so nice! We’ll definitely be coming back. You people are super nice!”

I’m immediately charmed by this family, and I’m happy they are happy.

My first impression of this family is that they probably are not swimming in cash back home. They’re probably not the valedictorians of their high school graduating class nor taste-making influencers, but they’re genuinely nice people.

I gather that my modern mid-scale “owner-friendly” chain hotel is the fancy hotel from “Coming To America” to these kind folks.

After a little family time in the lobby recreational area, the family shuffles off to their room. We say our goodbyes. I like them.

At 11:15ish, my friends are back again. Gotta get a smoke in. We laugh at the false goodbye.

At midnight, just Dad and the infant come down. The cute little baby is fussy. We have a discussion about our hotel breakfast.

At 12:30, there’s a family parade again. Okay, the kiddos can’t sleep. Might as well walk around the lobby. I guess. Dad, you’re smoking while holding the infant outside?

At 1:00 am, Dad comes down on his own. He strolls the lobby again and then has another cigarette.

Dad: “Can we get a late checkout?”

Me: “My friend, check with me at breakfast and we’ll see what we can do.”

At 1:30 am, family parade again. I’ve run out of small talk. I also start to feel bad for these kids. Don’t they need sleep? I never noticed that Dad only has a couple of teeth.

At 2:00 am, back again! This time with a whole bunch of pizza for the lobby microwave. This couple sure has hummingbird energy. How is anyone to sleep on a diet of pizza and secondhand smoke in the middle of the night?

Oop. Repeat convos now. Breakfast. Late checkout availability. Yes, this is a nice hotel. Oh, you’re off to bed for real this time? (I don’t believe you for a second.)

I begin to wonder. They never charged anything to a room. I never got their room number. Just for doo-doos and chuckles, I’m gonna do a perimeter check, restroom check, and floor walk.

All clear. I’m a real jerk. Stop making assumptions, ya jerk.

At 2:30 am, Dad is back! This time, he’s alone. Real hummingbird energy this time. So full of energy and insomnia.

Dad: “Do you have a condom?”

He gives me that smile that says, “I’m getting lucky.”

Me: “Sorry, sir, but we don’t stock condoms.”

Dad: “Ah, well.”

Wait, was that an “Ah, well, I guess it ain’t happening tonight,” or, “Ah, well, I guess we’re risking a third child”?!

WAIT! “We have a bed for ourselves and a bed for our kiddos…”

I ran the night audit with the uncomfortable visuals of my toothless friend and his wife totally pulling the goalie while their toddler and infant slept in the same room. YIKES.

The last words he spoke to me were at 6:45 am. He said, “Them grits is too hard,” and I thought it was an appropriate finale to our friendship.

I work at a frozen yogurt place that offers sugar-free options. One customer comes in all the time and really likes to chat with the employees, which is fine. One night, however…

Customer: “Sugar-free peanut butter sounds good.”

Me: “It is! Would you like a sample?”

Customer: “I can’t; artificial sugar makes me squirty.”

Me: *Polite expression of self-loathing for my lot in life at this moment*

Customer: “You know, the runs?”

Me: “Yes, I understand. Would you like to try something else?”

Customer: “Artificial sugar gives me terrible diarrhea!”

Me: “Yes, I—”

Customer: “Like a firehose!”

Me: “Please—” 

Customer: “It comes out like it’s evil! Like it’s speaking in tongues!”

Customer: “Can I get a discount?”

Me: “We’re not offering any discounts at the moment.”

Customer: “But I deserve a discount.”

Me: “Why?”

Customer: “Because I have cancer.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that, but I can’t give you a discount for that reason.”

Customer: “How do you sleep at night?”

Me: “Much better, now that I am in remission from my breast cancer, thanks.”

The customer went white and paid the full price. This was three years ago, and I’m now in complete remission!

When [Friend] told me this story, I just HAD to get her permission to share it. She gave it, so here we go. Fair warning: I fear the number of IQ points that may be lost in reading this.

[Friend] started dating [Idiot] about two years before this incident. Things seemed to be going all right between them. She told me he was a bit of a derp and sometimes incredibly oblivious to some things. He couldn’t pick up subtle cues, and even suggestions flew over his head with about a mile of airspace between his skull and the suggestion. She originally chalked it up to him being on the autism spectrum, as she has a few other friends who have similar problems picking up cues. So, she just switched her behavior from “talking to neurotypical” to “talking to neurodivergent”, and the bumps smoothed out for a while.

All was well and good.

Then, the talk of taking the relationship seriously came up — marriage, becoming a family, etc.

And that’s when the relationship began to die.

[Idiot] announced that he wanted to DNA test [Friend]’s kids to make sure they were his — the kids who were five and three when [Friend] and [Idiot] started dating.

[Friend] said she had to come to a full stop in the conversation for several seconds while her brain rebooted.

Friend: “They’re not your kids. You know they’re not. My ex-husband and I had them together before I ever met you.”

Idiot: “Yeah, and now that we’re getting married, they’ll become mine. I just want to DNA test them to be sure of it.”

Friend: “Let me see if I understand this. Do you… Do you actually think my children’s DNA will… change… to become biologically yours?”

Idiot: “Obviously. I just want the confirmation on paper, is all.”

There was a long conversation about how DNA didn’t work that way, with his rebuttal that adopting them would make them BECOME his. Then, there had to be a conversation about how becoming his children would only happen on paper, and in the legal system. She had to explain that, no, the children would NOT magically transform into his own biological children once the paperwork was filled out. He kept insisting that EVERYBODY said the kids became theirs once adoption happened. She explained the concept of “adopted children are loved just as much as if they were biological”, and that was what that meant. He insisted that everything pointed to kids BECOMING “theirs.”

[Friend]’s mom eventually had to become involved to back [Friend] up. His DAD had to become involved to back [Friend] up. A few books had to get involved to back [Friend] up.

[Idiot] was furious! He couldn’t understand why people would EVER adopt a kid if the kid didn’t “become” the actual, biological child of the people who took them in. He went on about how stupid and selfish it was for kids to retain the DNA of the sperm or egg donor! How could any kid who wanted to be adopted REFUSE to change one little thing so they could have parents?! “DNA doesn’t work that way” is a bulls*** excuse!

He ranted and raved, and right in front of his own parents, he told her that if her kids weren’t going to become his kids, then the marriage wasn’t going to happen.

He told her that he would give them all a week to change their minds and agree to be his biological kids. He said that WHEN they stopped being selfish, and WHEN the DNA test proved it, he would take the kids in.

Friend: *To me* “And that’s how the relationship ended.”

Me: “Uhhhh, wait. Hang on. Was he just looking for an excuse to break it off? Did he just get cold feet, or want to date around some more, or…?”

Friend: “Nope. He really is just that stupid. His mom called me on the sly and very gently suggested that I just break it off with [Idiot], because no matter how much she and his dad talk to him, he’s adamant about it. He’s even saying that he will never date a woman with kids from here on out unless they agree to change their DNA to become his if the relationship becomes serious.”

So, [Friend] is single again, having dodged a tactical nuke.

For the record, the father of [Friend]’s kids is still fully in the kids’ lives, has full parental rights, and has 50/50 custody, so adoption wasn’t even on the table. It just didn’t come up in the conversation due to the stupidity of the DNA topic taking over [Friend]’s brain space.