(It’s the early ‘90s, and a lot of “portable” technology is still pretty expensive. My parents and I have just gotten back from visiting my grandparents’ house in Florida. It was a long, three-day drive, and upon arriving home late that night we’re all very tired and hungry.)

Mom: “I’m thinking of putting on a frozen pizza. How does that sound?”

Dad: “Excellent. We’ll unload the car while you pre-heat the oven.”

(A couple of minutes later, the oven has started to heat up, yet something seems off.)

Me: “Mom? Dad? Something smells really funny in the kitchen.”

Mom: “It almost smells like burning rubber or something.” *sudden gasp of realization* “[Neighbor]’s camcorder!”

Me: “What?!”

(Sure enough, Mom and Dad turn the oven off and open the door to find the melted remains of what was once a very expensive, new recording device.)

All: “…”

Mom: “Oh, NO…”

Me: “Why was [Neighbor]’s new portable video recorder in the oven?!”

Mom: “We borrowed it for [Event] and didn’t get a chance to return it before they left on their vacation.”

Me: “But why the oven?!”

Dad: “I thought it would be safe there! No one would look for a VCR machine in an oven!”

Mom: “Well, we’ve certainly proven that part right.”

(My parents bought him an entirely new machine; thankfully, he found the whole story hilarious. We also learned an important lesson: always check your ovens before turning up the heat!)

This story is part of our Neighbor roundup!

Read the next Neighbor roundup story!

Read the Neighbor roundup!

(I’m back in my fairly small, conservative hometown, going grocery shopping with my dad. We get up to the register, and our cashier, a teenage girl, has a Dalek bow in her hair.)

Me: “Your bow is rockin’!”

Cashier: *laughing* “Thanks! I was actually just admiring the X-Men button on your purse!”

(We chat back and forth a bit about our favorite comic series when my dad scoffs.)

Dad: “Nerds.”

(She immediately looks horrified, but I just laugh.)

Me: “Dad… you introduced me to Dr. Who and Batman and Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when I was seven! Where do you think I get it from?”

Dad: “Well, yeah. Hitchhiker’s Guide is classic, and Batman is clearly the coolest comic series. But the classic Dr. Who series is so much better. It just went downhill after they introduced River Song. You two are nerds.”

(Both the cashier and I were laughing by this point. Dad and I paid, collected our groceries, and left, my dad still arguing that I’m nerdier than he is. That may be, but the apple doesn’t fall far, Dad!)

(I am the supervisor of the print center in my store but we do not have a separate phone number, so anyone calling in reaches the cashier who then lets me know I have a call. The cashier tells me over the radio that a customer is on the line for me and is already irate. She informs me she couldn’t really get a word in over him screaming at her.)

Me: “Thank you for holding. This is [My Name]. How can I help you?”

Customer: *basically screaming into the phone* “I was in your store a few days ago and had about ten black and white copies done. I just checked my credit card statement and it says you charged me over $60 for them. How can the cost so f****** much or are you just r******d?”

Me: *slightly taken aback* “Sir, I apologize if there was a mistake on the transaction. If possible, could you come back into the store so I can look up the receipt with your card and see what happened?”

Customer: *now even angrier* “You mean I have to come back to the store just to get this fixed?”

(The customer then begins to rant about calling his attorney and disputing the charge with his card’s company but I finally convince him it would be best for him to just come in and for me to look and see if the total was correct or if he needs a refund. A few hours later a man comes in obviously pissed off and I assume this is who I have been waiting for.)

Me: “Hello, sir, what can I do for you?”

Customer: *handing me his card* “Just make it quick will you; I have things to do!”

Me: “It won’t be more than a minute, sir.”

(I take his card and punch it into the system and find his receipt and sure enough he got a very small number of copies but his total over $60. I then look at the next line to see “Cashback $50”)

Me: “Sir, it appears you were charged correctly for the copies…”

Customer: *his facing getting very red* “BUT–”

Me: *I cut him off* “—and you also got $50 cash back, which brought your total to over $60.”

(He then ripped the card from my hand and walked out of the store without so much as a sorry. Part of me wishes that the reason he left so fast was because he was so embarrassed but something tells me he just really felt an apology wasn’t needed.)

(My cousin is a very masculine, straight-acting police officer. The following exchange takes place in his precinct.)

Officer: “God, my wife is driving me nuts. Women, huh? Doesn’t your wife just make you crazy sometimes?”

Cousin: “I don’t have a wife.”

Officer: “Ah, sorry, I saw the ring. Divorced, huh?”

Cousin: “No.”

Officer: “Oh. Widowed?”

Cousin: “No, I’m definitely still married.”

Officer: *now very confused* “So, you do have a wife?”

Cousin: *starting to snicker at the routine* “No.”

Officer: *as several other cops within earshot also start to crack up* “I don’t understand.”

Sergeant: *yelling in exasperation* “He’s married to a man and therefore has a husband! Jesus Christ, [Officer], how do you expect to make detective with those deductive reasoning skills?”

Officer: “Ohhhhh.”

(My family is traveling for the holidays, and we are staying in a hotel. One night there isn’t much on TV, so my two sons — 18 and 16 — get into a discussion about “Thomas the Tank Engine” for some reason. They both loved Thomas videos as young children, and they are inspired to look one up on YouTube. If you have ever watched “Thomas the Tank Engine,” especially the older ones from the late 90s and early 2000s, you know that the eyes on the engines move, but their mouths are not animated.)

Son #2: “Were all of these narrated?”

Me: “Um, yeah.”

Son #2: “Their mouths don’t move! Just the eyes!”

Me: “That was always the case, honey.”

Son #2: “No, that’s not right. Some of them had moving mouths, didn’t they?”

Son #1: “Dude, their mouths never moved. They were like a model railroad with a voiceover.”

Son #2: *frowning* “My childhood was a lie!”

(Even at sixteen, he’s still pretty cute sometimes.)