I work in a grocery store. Part of my job is watching the self-checkouts, which involves standing to the side and watching for potential shoplifters or customers who need help.

While I’m standing there, a customer makes a beeline toward me from a different part of the store. He’s holding a clear cup with a large logo on it for a popular coffee chain that has a location in the store. He walks up to me, brandishes his cup, and says, without greeting or preamble:

Customer: “This s*** tastes like a**.”

I take a split second to try to figure out how to respond because I am in no way affiliated with the coffee chain. [Coffee Chain] employees and [Store] employees rarely interact. Our uniforms are completely different. I’ve never even been in the kiosk. Nothing I can do to placate a dissatisfied customer could possibly apply here.

Me: “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

He stared at me for a second and then turned and walked away without another word. I still don’t know what he was trying to accomplish.

My brother has been stubborn as a mule since the day he was born, often to his own detriment. My mother has learned that sometimes the only way to steer him away from something is to let him suffer the consequences.

My brother is quite young when a neighbor invites our family to spend the afternoon at their backyard pool. My brother can’t swim yet, so my mom has him on her hip as she stands in the shallow end.

Brother: “Mom? I wanna swim.”

Mom: “You don’t know how to swim yet.”

Brother: “Yes, I do!”

Mom: “You’ve had one lesson.”

Brother: “I can swim! I’ll show you!”

They continue to argue until my mom agrees to let him try to swim. He sinks like a rock. The second he hits the bottom, my mom bends down and picks him up.

Mom: “You can’t swim, honey.”

Brother: “Yes, I can!”

Once again, they argue until she agrees. This time, she lets him go and watches closely. Once again, he sinks like a rock. She waits a few seconds, watching his eyes get wider and wider under the water as he sits on the bottom.

Then, she bends back down and picks him up again. He takes a deep breath and blinks the pool water from his eyes.

Brother: “I can swim.”

Mom: “No, you can’t.”

Brother: “Let me try one more time!”

She does. He sinks. She watches his eyes get wider and wider. She scoops him up again.

Mom: “You can’t swim.”

Brother: “I can’t swim.”

My mother still tells this story whenever we go swimming with family friends — while my brother goes off and swims with the rest of us, without sinking to the bottom.

I’m in a college class with an older professor the year before she retires. It’s a few days before spring break, and she’s quite put out about students missing her — admittedly tedious — class in favor of an early vacation.

Professor: “And you just know that some of them are going to end up on Girls Gone Wild. Does that awful show still exist? It used to be a big thing.”

Student: “Nowadays, we call it TikTok.”

He wasn’t wrong.

A few weeks ago, my car was totaled by a drunk driver. I am borrowing my mom’s car while I wait for the insurance payout to replace it. I notice that the oil needs to be changed, so I take it to a shop from which I have a coupon for a $17 oil change.

The mechanic is inside a department store. I go through the main entrance to get on the list and show the clerk the coupon.

Clerk: “What type of car and color is it?”

I give a description.

Clerk: “What year?”

Me: “I’m sorry, I don’t know. It’s my mom’s car; I’m just using it for a bit. I can go check and see if that information is in the car.”

Clerk: “No, that’s all right. We will figure it out. You can look around the store, and we will call you when it’s ready.”

About fifteen minutes later, I am paged to the auto department.

Me: “Hi. I was just called. I believe my car is ready.”

Clerk: “No, not yet. I just wanted to inform you that, during the inspection, we discovered that there was [issue I don’t remember] with the car. We are going to have that fixed for you, so with the oil change and repairs, your total is $700, and it will take about four hours.”

Me: “No, just the oil change, but I will let my mom know and I’m sure she will get it to her mechanic soon.”

Clerk: “This needs to be fixed, or it could continue to wear down and destroy the motor. You need to have it done.”

Me: “Like I said, it’s not my car, and I do not have $700. Plus, I need to be at work in two hours, so I can’t wait that long. Is it something that will cause issues within the next week?”

Clerk: “No, but we already started the repairs.”

Me: “Well, I did not agree to anything but the oil change. It sounds like a problem I did not cause, and I am only going to pay for the oil change.”

Clerk: “You need to pay us to fix it.”

Me: “No.”

Clerk: “But it—”

Me: “NO.”

The clerk lets out a frustrated growl and storms out to the back. She comes back about five minutes later. While I am waiting, I place a few items I had intended to buy on the counter.

Clerk: “They are putting the old parts back on, but [part] was damaged when we took it off, so you’ll need to pay for the replacement. Your total is $200.”

Me: “No, I am only paying for the oil change. You caused damage doing work I never agreed to. You need to repair it since it was your error, and I would like to speak to the manager.”

Clerk: “He is unavailable, but fine. We will just lose money on the parts. It will be $38 for the oil change.”

Me: “No, I have this coupon for a $17 oil change.”

Clerk: “That coupon is only for the oil change; the disposal fee, extra oil, and air filter are priced separately.”

Me: “Isn’t that all included in an oil change?”

Clerk: “Most places lump it all together, but we charge for everything separately. You would know that if you bothered to read our sign.”

She gestures behind her to a partially obscured sign with strange, nearly illegible lettering.

Me: “Fine. Whatever.”

Clerk: “Would you like me to ring up these other items, as well?”

Me: “No, thank you.”

I pay for the oil change and leave the items on the counter. About two minutes later, the mechanic comes in with my keys and tells me the car is ready. I head out the door.

Clerk: “You forgot your items here.”

Me: “No, the oil change cost more than it was supposed to. I no longer want them. Have fun putting them back.”

Clerk: “You need to take them back to the correct departments.”

Me “No.”

Then, I walked out and never returned to that store again.

My mom took the car to her regular mechanic two weeks later, and they charged her $200 for everything that needed to be done.

Many years ago, a couple in my church was fostering to adopt. One afternoon, they got a call about the placement of a little girl, maybe four or five years old.

When the social worker arrived with the girl, she looked her new foster parents up and down and pointed at the wife.

Girl: “You’re Mommy.”

Then, she pointed at the husband.

Girl: “You’re Daddy.” *Pauses* “Where am I sleepin’?”

All three of them cracked up. Points for efficiency!