My friend is throwing a Christmas party. We get together every year, but this year, there are some new significant others, so I am nervous trying to make conversation. The “kids” — aka twenty-somethings — their SOs, and I are gathered in one room with half of the appetizers. My sister is talking about the spread.

Sister: “It’s a good thing I didn’t eat today. I’m eating a lot now.”

Friend #1: “Well, at least this is healthier. Look at all the vegetables and fruit.”

Sister: “Yeah, but do you see my plate? I have rolls, meatballs, and lots of cheese. Oh, and a carrot stick for good measure.”

Friend #2: “Could be worse. You could have gone to [Fast Food Place] and had a burger or something.”

Sister: “Exactly! Thanks, that makes it seem better.”

Me: “Well, if you think about it, you’ve had two or three rolls, at least six meatballs, and a lot of cheese, so it’s kind of like having two or three cheeseburgers.”

Friends: “…”

Sister: “All right, who invited her?”

I haven’t spoken to my father or his family in years. The reason isn’t really important; it’s just important to know that I don’t speak to them, don’t know where they are, and don’t care to know. 

I am a full-grown adult. My mom and I are invited to a friend of a friend’s house party so she can show off photos she took while traveling, and we are making small talk while waiting for the other guests to arrive.

Mom: “Hi, I’m [Mom] and this is my daughter, [My Name].” 

Hostess: “So, it’s just you and your mom?”

Me: “Pretty much, yep.”

Hostess: “Where’s your dad?”

Me: “Um… don’t really know and don’t want to. I don’t talk to him.”

Hostess: “Oh.” *To my mom* “Well, do you know where he is?”

My mom and I were both so baffled by the extreme rudeness of this comment that neither of us knew how to respond at all. We just kind of walked away.

(I worked in volunteer emergency medical services for years. Without charge to anyone, a person would call 911, which would then send me and a crew with an ambulance to provide emergency medical care and transportation to the hospital. Unfortunately, our experience was that during a blizzard, some people would call 911 with a fake medical emergency and then decline transportation to the hospital. This was done because they had learned that a snowplow would be dispatched in front of our ambulance to make sure we had a clear route to the house in question. This way, the person would have their street plowed before others. The request of the woman in this story, however, blows my mind. We arrive at the location following the snowplow that is clearing 18 inches of snow on the road. I trudge up to the door and ring the bell. A young woman with an alcoholic drink in her hand answers. There is loud music playing. This is obviously a “blizzard party.”)

Me: “[Town] EMS, who is having the emergency?”

Woman: “Yes, that’s me. Um, I have diabetes.”

(I know that anyone with diabetes should not be drinking an alcoholic beverage.)

Me: “Okay, let’s sit down and check your blood sugar. Are you feeling badly?”

Woman: “Oh, no, I don’t need anything like that. I already checked my blood sugar. It’s [number that’s a bit high, but not an emergency]. I need my insulin from my house in [Next Town Over]. I was wondering if you’d drive me to get it?”

Me: “Ma’am, we are an ambulance for medical emergencies. We cannot transport you from one house to another. The policeman over here, however, most likely will.”

Woman: “Oh, that’s great. But, um, after I get my insulin, could he bring me back here to the party? I’m having such a great time!”

(I just facepalmed. The policeman did give her a ride home to her insulin… but not back to the party.)

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(For my grandma’s 80th birthday, her kids all host a big party for her. My youngest uncle has just had a new house built, so that’s where it’s hosted. I’m the oldest grandkid; I am 17, while my uncle’s son is two years old. After spending the morning running around preparing and cleaning up the house, my two-year-old cousin — now very bored — begs me to play trains with him. It will keep him quiet and occupied in the back room until the party begins, so I agree. The next thing I know, I’m suddenly aware that there are four other kids in the back room with us, and there’s music and talking in the rest of the house. I’m about to go join the party when two little girls take over my cousin’s train set.)

Cousin: “No! No, no, no, no, no!” *begins to cry*

Me: “Hey, buddy, it’s all right. Look; they’ve got the red train and the blue train, and you can have the green train! That’s your favourite one!”

Cousin: “No!”

Me: “Okay, which train did you want?”

Cousin: “My trains.”

Me: “Yes, they’re your trains. The girls are just borrowing them for a little while. It’s important to share so that you can all play together.”

Cousin: “NOOO!” *throws himself on the ground, about to go full meltdown*

Me: “Right. I’m going to pick you up, and we’ll go find Mummy, okay?”

Cousin: “Nooo… ‘kay.”

(I wander out into the party, my cousin goes to cuddle with his mum until he feels better, and I go on my way to eat cake and talk to people I know.)

Lady: *grabbing my shoulder* “YOU!”

Me: “Uh, hello? I’m sorry, I don’t think I recognise you–”

Lady: “What are you doing outside the playroom?”

Me: “Sorry?”

Lady: “You’re going to be sorry. I went to check on my dears and found you missing.” 

Me: “I don’t understand.”

Lady: “How dare you?! You’re getting paid good money to watch those kids, and you fob it off to steal party food?”

Me: “Paid?”

Lady: “When I checked, there was no one watching the kids. My girls were even about to get into a fight with each other. You’re going to get back there and do your job, and when I find [Aunt], I’ll see that she never hires you again.”

Me: “Can you let go of me now?”

Lady: “You need to learn some responsibility and–”

Dad: “[My Name], there you are. Come here; it’s time for the speeches. Oh, hello, Mrs. [Lady].”

Lady: *suddenly sickeningly pleasant* “Oh, hello, [Dad]. I haven’t seen you in years! How have you been? How’s [Mum] doing?”

Dad: “She’s fine. [My Name], this is [Lady]. She’s a part of Grandma’s congregation. I used to babysit her when I was your age.”

Lady: “You should have said you were related to [Grandma]. I thought you were the hired help.”

(I turn to look at the projector, showing photographs of Grandma through her life, right next to us. The current image is one of Grandma in her wedding dress; I have listened to twelve people today already marvel over how it looks just like me, before I’ve even introduced myself)

Me: “Sure. If you say so.”

(I’m at a house party when a long-time acquaintance walks up. I’ve known him since I was 15, and he’s been wanting to have an inappropriate relationship with me. I’m in my mid-40s when this conversation takes place. He is wearing a lifting brace with the logo for Snap-On Tools on the back.)

Me: “Is your back bothering you?”

Acquaintance: “Yes.”

Me: “I hope your back will get better real soon.”

Acquaintance: “I’m the only guy here who can say I have a snap-on tool.”

Me: *in a really loud voice* “[Acquaintance]! I didn’t know it was that short!”

(He left the party shortly after that.)