Confession time: I made my daughter cry at Christmas a few years ago.

She was in the habit of very carefully, slowly opening gift wrap without ripping for later reuse and I’d always tell her to hurry and just rip it. One Christmas, as a joke, I wrapped a gift to her by ripping gift wrap into pieces about the size of quarters, then taping the pieces together around the gift box. I thought it looked cool: pieces of different themed gift wrap with the ripped, rough edges sticking out all around the box, kind of “fuzzy” and no need to avoid tearing wrapping that’s already torn up.

But she thought I was making fun of her; when she saw it, her head dropped and she cried slightly.

I apologized, but I’ve felt guilty for four years now. It’s hard being a parent; sometimes you go for a laugh but things don’t work right and then someone is hurt.

I am leaving my job at the local mall at sunset and my male friend is walking me to my car. When he walks ahead to get something from his car, I notice someone standing under the nearby street light. It is a rather scruffy-looking guy and, being a 108-pound female, I don’t want to stay near him very long. I go up to my friend.

Me: “Could you please walk me back to the car? I’m a little scared.”

Friend: “Why?”

I point the guy out. My friend shouts at him to get lost and I get into my car to drive away. The next morning when I come back, I see him STILL THERE UNDER THE SAME STREET LIGHT. He doesn’t look any less threatening in the daylight, either.

Because he is only about forty yards away and staring in my direction, I don’t get out of the car until several more cars have arrived, and even then I take the long way around. My boss is very irritated because Christmas is coming up and we are short-staffed.

Boss: “You’re late. I’ll have to write you up.”

Me: *Explains the story* “Ask [Friend].”

Boss: *Fed up* “I really don’t care right now. Just get to work. Consider this a warning: if you can’t get out of your car and walk an eighty-second walk to the front doors, maybe you should consider employment somewhere else.”

While the creepy guy isn’t there when I leave that night, he is there four days later, staring from across the parking lot. I am not sure if his anger was directed at me this time because there are quite a number of shoppers present, but I don’t dare leave the store on my break.

When that happens, my boss comes up to me and tells me that I need to go and have lunch because I’ll be breaking the rules if I don’t.

Me: “The creepy guy was out there this morning; I’m too scared.”

Boss: *Flippantly* “For goodness’ sake, we have cameras here! It’s a mall! Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re on thin ice right now, [My Name]. Stop making a mountain out of a molehill.”

I had my lunch and came back. When my friend walked me back to my car, the creepy guy was back at the same spot, only a lot closer to my car. When I drove out, he turned his head to look at me as I left. I didn’t see him after that, although I was too paranoid to leave the house that Christmas.

It’s early December. I’m third in line at a convenience store. At the front of the line is a young woman carrying a young child, maybe four years old. The second person in line is an older man with a bushy white beard, wearing black pants and a red sweater. Honestly, my first thought is, “Santa Claus.” The little girl seems to agree, because she’s staring at him in wonder.

Just before her mother steps up to the cashier, the girl finds the nerve to speak.

Little Girl: *In a hushed tone* “Are you Santa?”

Fake Santa pauses for a moment.

Fake Santa: “Nah, sorry, kid. I’m his brother, Fred.”

Sounds sweet, right? No identity theft but he still plays along. But then…

Fake Santa: “Santa actually died two weeks ago.”

Little Girl: “S-Santa is d-dead?!”

The little girl started wailing.

The mother tried to calm her daughter down. I started yelling at the man that he was a monster. It was chaos. The cashiers hadn’t heard the conversation so they were confused.

The man shrugged and went to an open cashier, who served him silently and he left. I told the cashiers what had happened and they were just as horrified as we were. They had some cheap toys hanging from a rack, so one of them grabbed a bear and took it to the little girl. When I left, they were telling her that the man was a liar.

Hopefully, he didn’t spoil the holiday for her. What is wrong with people?

I’m visiting my parents’ house with my kitten for a couple of weeks due to the thermostat in my condo being broken and my car being temporarily undrivable. I’m playing with the kitten and my dad enters the room.

Dad: “Hi, Kitten! Are you having fun?”

He kneels in close, going to pet my keyed-up, hyper baby.

Me: “Oh, no, Dad, now’s not a good time to have your hands close to his mouth. He’ll bi—”

Cue shouting from my dad when Kitten, in a fit of exuberance, grabs his hand and bites down.

Me: “I mean it. Don’t put your hands in his face; he thinks you’re playing.”

Dad reaches in AGAIN and gets bitten. Again.

Me: “Seriously, stop. He doesn’t like it.” 

This time, Kitten swipes at his hand, annoyed.

Dad: *Mystified and in pain* “Ow! Why’d he scratch me?”

Me: “…”

I work at the pickup window and hand out food and drinks to drive-thru customers. I have literally just clocked in, and I hand the woman at the window her food. She looks through the bag for a second and then turns to me.

Customer: “You forgot my burger.”

Me: “I’m not seeing a burger on your order. Are you sure you ordered it?”

Customer: “YES! Here, I’ll show you my receipt.”

She digs through her glove box and pulls out a receipt. She scans over it then looks at me with a smug grin. The customer is pointing at nothing in particular on the receipt:

Customer: “See, honey. It’s right here. Now, why don’t you be a good boy and fetch me the burger you forgot?”

There’s no burger on the receipt but I just want her to leave.

Me: “Right, so sorry, ma’am, I’ll just grab that real quick.”

I tell my coworkers to make a plain hamburger; I don’t know if she wanted a plain hamburger but that’s what she’s getting.

Me: “Okay, here’s that burger you ordered.”

Customer: “Yep.”

Me: “Have a nice day, ma’am.”

She flipped the bird and burned rubber out of our parking lot. I closed the window and audibly sighed.

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