Has ID, Still No Idea

, , , , , , | Working | April 20, 2018

A few years ago, I had my name legally changed, only keeping my last name. Shortly after, I went to the liquor store. Since I’d only become legal the year before, the cashier did their duty and carded me. I presented my two pieces of ID, bought my beer, and went home.

Later, I was going through my wallet and realized I had accidentally put in my old medical card instead of my new one. So, I had presented two pieces of ID with two completely different names, and the cashier hadn’t batted an eye.

Related:
Has ID, Has An Idea

Slapped Some Sense Into You

, , , , , , , | Related | March 7, 2018

I am maybe four-ish when this happens, so I don’t remember it, but I’ve been told the story secondhand.

My mom’s car starts to break down on the highway. It lasts just long enough for her to safely pull into the parking lot of a defunct restaurant, but then she has the problem of needing to call for help. These are pre-cell-phone days, so the closest phone is at the gas station across the street. She decides that, instead of herding us across such a busy intersection, and trying to control us while tethered to a payphone, she will leave us in the car. She instructs my eight-year-old brother that he is in charge for the next ten minutes, and makes it very clear that under no circumstances are either of us to leave the car.

She runs across the street, calls my dad for help, and comes back as fast as she can. At some point I must have tried to follow her, because when she comes back she finds me pouting in the back seat with a bright red handprint on my face.

Many years later, I tell this story to my Nana, and she immediately goes to defend my brother with, “Oh, I’m sure he was just scared…” I have to reassure her that, no, I do not harbor any ill will towards him for that at all; I would much prefer being slapped in the face to being flattened by a truck.

Keeping Him Rice And Happy

, , , , | Romantic | January 12, 2018

(This is a story from my grandmother. When she marries my grandfather, in the late 1940s, she asks him about all the foods he likes so she can make them for him. She asks him if he likes rice, and he says he does. So one meal, she makes chicken and rice.)

Grandad: “Rice? No potatoes?”

Nana: “But you said you liked rice!”

Grandad: “I meant rice pudding!”

(For the next sixty years she always made meat dishes with potatoes. After he died, she had rice with her chicken.)

All Fired Up About The Child-Lock

, , , , | Friendly | September 2, 2017

(I am hanging out with a friend, about to smoke, and he hands me a lighter. It has a child-lock on it, and when I buy lighters, the first thing I do is rip the lock off.)

Me: “Aw, man, you keep the child-lock on them?”

Friend: “Yeah… because we have a CHILD.”

Me: “Oh, right… that is an excellent point.”

(Every other time we hung out, we ended up having to do a lighter exchange, because somehow I’d end up with his girlfriend’s pink lighters and he’d end up with my child-lock-less lighters.)

The Daddy Of All Daddy Issues

, , , , | Friendly | July 20, 2017

(I am in a car with a work friend, and we’re chatting, when the topic turns to family. When speaking with acquaintances I often refer to my mother’s husband as my ‘stepdad’, even though I don’t consider him as such, simply because it’s easier to say and gets the point across. My closer friends understand my relationship with him, and with them I just refer to him by name.)

Me: “So I was talking with my stepdad…” *I pause for a moment, and figure I’ve been spending enough time with this guy outside work that he’s more than an acquaintance, so I might as well explain* “I mean, he’s not like my dad, he’s—”

Friend: “Whoa, whoa, wait. Does he make your mom happy?”

Me: “Yes, he—”

Friend: “Is he good for her?”

Me: “Yes, just—”

Friend: “Does she love him?”

Me: “Yeah, but—”

Friend: “Then don’t complain about him!”

Me: “I’m NOT complaining about him! He’s an AWESOME guy! She’s a vegetarian and so is he, they have a great organic garden in their yard, he totally loves her, and I’m really glad they found each other! But I only met him as a teenager, he never had a hand in raising me, and they didn’t get married until after I moved out. I seriously have nothing against him; he’s a great guy, but he’s not my dad!”

Friend: *silent for a moment* “Oh. Okay. It’s just, I was raised by a stepdad, and he was great. I get so f****** tired of people s***ting on their stepdads because they’re ‘not their real dad.'”

(Ironically, when I was a kid, I always hoped that she would meet a guy with kids so I could have siblings and a second dad.)