My brother was one of those students that partied heavily and “studied” on the side. He did eventually earn his degree, but had to finish in night school because my parents were fed up with paying for his tuition while he had redo every grade due to the partying. These are just two anecdotes from his time as a student:

One day, he was skipping class because of a serious hangover. He was awoken by a call from his classmates, stuck on a project. 

He initially refused to go and help them out due to his hangover but they insisted. My dad, on an off-chance not working that day, had to drive him to college as there was still too little blood in his alcohol to drive around safely. He arrived, supporting himself by leaning heavily on the bench, and he just looked and pointed out the short circuit they created.

Another time, a bit soberer but lacking sleep, he fell asleep in class. The TA noticed and asked him to answer and solve the formula on the blackboard. My brother lifted his head and opened his eyes just far enough to reply that he couldn’t because it contained an error. The TA then flew into a rant to the rest of the class that nobody had seen the error and that it was so noticeable that even someone asleep could see it. He did leave my brother alone for the rest of the class, though.

It was Halloween in Illinois, and the weather decided to try to stop our trick or treaters from having fun. It was snowing and very icy. Many people decided to stay home, except me, my three brothers, and my boyfriend. We got all bundled up and put on extra, extra layers of socks. We all had these scary-a** expensive masks that looked real.

No one else was out in the street except some troopers who were just like us. That night, we each got big handfuls of candy from each house since we were the only ones out and about. It was a truly amazing night and so worth the small frostbite that seemed to almost get us.

My mum had bought some Jelly Belly candy from Wisconsin; we had gotten crates full since they had a sale for five dollars a crate of jelly beans in tiny bags themed after Cars 2 or The Incredibles. So, I went around and gave as many as I could away to kids, adults, store employees, and people who gave me candy. I felt really good since they were an expensive brand that not many get often.

My “Mrs. Peacock” Clue/Cluedo Halloween costume wasn’t complete without a small toy revolver, so I searched an online marketplace that specializes in handmade and vintage goods, and found one at a good price from a seller only about 100 miles from me. Per the seller’s policies, he usually shipped items within three business days of order placement, but sometimes needed up to seven days to ship the item. In either case, the package should take only two or three days to arrive even by basic postal service.

On Wednesday the 19th, I received an email from the seller with the package tracking code and the following note: “Your package was shipped a few days back on time. Here is the tracking information. Have a great day!”

“A few days back on time” was ambiguous, but it sounded as though the seller was stating that he had shipped the package out “a few days back,” which was certainly well within his policy and therefore “on time.” However, when I got home that afternoon, the package had not arrived, nor did it arrive the following day. Or the next. Or the next. The whole time, the package tracking showed the same status message: “Pre-Shipment Info Sent to USPS, USPS Awaiting Item.”

It seemed the seller had created the package profile with the post office, but hadn’t yet given the package to a postal worker to begin processing. On Sunday the 23rd, one week after I’d ordered the item, I contacted the seller: “Please send out ASAP. I ordered this well enough in advance to accompany a Halloween costume for a party this coming Friday, October 28th.

“Columbus to Cincy isn’t far; it should take no more than two or three days to arrive, but I’ll get it in time only if you ship it by tomorrow, Monday, October 24th.

“If you cannot manage to get it in the mail by close of business tomorrow, please let me know by canceling the order and issuing a full refund so that I can seek an alternative that will deliver in a timely fashion.”

The seller responded: “Hello, your package is indeed in the US mail system and on the way to you. The post office is always a day or more behind scanning updates. Some updates are as late as five days.

“Thank you for your patience. Have a good day!”

Yes, he was placing the blame for the package’s delay on the post office! Magically, the very next day, the tracking status changed to “Accepted at USPS Origin Facility.” Two days later, the 26th, I finally had my costume accessory. It was exactly what I needed, albeit a little smaller than I expected.

However, the seller got his very-well-deserved negative feedback posted to his account about his slow service and blatant lies!

We have a certain customer that always tries to use four or more duplicates of the coupons that say, “limit of two per household per day.” Usually, I somehow end up dealing with her, and she leaves half — or all — her stuff behind because I deny half of her coupons. 

Tonight, she shows up and goes to one of my new cashiers that I’ve not had the “read your coupons” talk with. I decide to hang around, just in case. Lo and behold, the lady tries to pull her usual coupon fraud. I count and she’s instantly on me, saying, “WHY DO YOU HAVE TO COUNT THEM? THE OTHER MANAGERS ALWAYS LET ME USE FOUR. YOU NEED TO BE NICER TO YOUR CUSTOMERS!”

She and who I’m assuming is her mom then switch over to Spanish so that I can’t understand them. After they’ve left — in a huff — I explain to my cashier the policy on coupons. She then tells me that when the lady switched to Spanish, she said I wouldn’t take her coupons because I was white. 

Not sure what that has to do with your inability to properly use coupons, but you have fun coming back to see another manager only to find me still staring down upon you and your coupons like the eye of Sauron.

Several years ago, my wife and I were going out to eat with a friend of ours and the friend’s three-year-old daughter. [Friend] needed money from an ATM and to get something for [Daughter], so we went to a grocery store. It was really busy — Friday night rush hour — so my wife went into the store to find the item while [Friend] used the store’s ATM and I drove laps around the parking lot with [Daughter]. 

On one of the laps, a car quickly came out of a row without looking, and I had to brake hard to avoid hitting them. It wasn’t the first idiot driver I’d dealt with in the last several minutes, so my temper got the better of me, and I muttered, “Stupid f***.” I must have been louder than I thought, because I immediately heard “NOOO!” from the back seat. 

I had to laugh at being lectured by a three-year-old.