I arrive at my friend’s place on New Year’s Eve. He is hosting a party.

Friend: “Good, you’re early. Help me set up the charcuterie annex.”

Me: “…The what?!”

He gestures to his dining table. It’s covered in meats, cheeses, crackers, dips, and more types of olives than I ever knew existed.

Me: “How many people did you invite?”

Friend: “Nine, but you never know who they might bring.”

He leads me into the kitchen. Every surface is covered in snacks.

Me: “…did you accidentally cater a wedding?”

Friend: “No! This is just smart hosting. Last year, we ran out of pretzels.”

Me: “Because you bought one bag.”

Friend: “Exactly! Never again.”

The whole group has arrived with no plus ones. We try to make a dent in all the food, but when it’s midnight, we’ve barely made a scratch. The olives alone look untouched.

In the early hours, as we’re all preparing to leave:

Friend: “WAIT! Don’t anyone leave empty-handed. Take snacks. Please. Take anything.”

He begins thrusting Ziploc bags into everyone’s hands.

Me: *Trying to avoid taking four bulging bags.* “I’ll take just the one, thanks.”

Friend: “Please. Take more. I cannot start my year with this much pretzel-related responsibility.”

I work for a law firm that’s renting the Natural History Museum as a venue for its big holiday party.

Coworker: “Do we have to have it at THAT museum?”

Me: “What are you talking about? Drinking champagne under the dinosaurs will be so cool!” 

Coworker: “Yeah, but they should pick a venue that doesn’t conflict with some of their employees’ beliefs.”

Me: “Beliefs?”

Coworker: “Yeah! Dinosaurs! I just… don’t buy the idea of dinosaurs.”

Me: “You don’t have to buy it. It’s a fact they’re giving to you for free!”

This was a lawyer who has defended clients in court…

Related:
This Kind Of Thinking Needs To Go Extinct

When I was four or five, I lived with my parents on the military base where my father worked. As part of the Christmas celebrations, there was the inevitable Christmas party for the kids of the military families on the base.

This involved an evening of partying, finger food, dancing, games, and then… a visit from Santa!

Santa would sit at the front of the dance floor, and kids would sit with their parents around the room. Santa would pull a gift out of the box and read the name out, and the lucky child would go over, take the gift, have their photo taken with Santa, and go back to their parent.

Imagine being the child who is last to be called, sitting there and watching as everyone else gets their turn, the anticipation building, waiting.

And imagine being the child whose name still hasn’t been called when Santa reaches the end of the gifts in his bag — literally turns it inside out, says, “And that’s it!”, bids us all a Merry Christmas, and exits stage left.

That year, I was that child. It had never happened before, but someone had screwed up royally. As the realisation dawned on me that Santa had forgotten me, I can still remember the hushed “Oh, no” from my father behind me.

I don’t remember much about what happened next (probably crying my eyes out), but right after the party, we ended up meeting Santa in a corridor, where he apologised.

Santa: “I’ve had another look in my sack, and I found a £5 note for you!”

That was a lot of money in the 1980s, and a fortune to a young child.

Santa: “My elves accidentally left your proper gift at your house; it’s there now waiting for you!”

And indeed, when we got home, my mother handed me a gift saying it had been dropped off by a very confused elf.

Years later, I brought it up with my parents, who filled me in on the fallout. Someone had indeed left me off the gift list despite me being on the attendee list, so my gift was never even purchased. They got into a lot of trouble for it, including having a military promotion suspended (you do not screw with military families in the military), and their senior also got into trouble.

For future events, two people had to independently check both the gift list and the attendee list, and the gift was shown to the parent before the party to ensure that no child was ever forgotten again.

It’s the night before my husband’s sister’s fifteenth birthday party (the big one here), so the house is packed and everyone has been preparing for tomorrow. As such, we decide to order burgers, and my husband sorts out the order.

Me: “So are you going to pick it up or is it delivery?”

Husband: “Delivery, look at the size of the order we’ve ordered for [starts listing people].”

Me: *After about eight people.* “And [Sister]?”

Husband: *Crickets.*

Me: “You did remember to order for [Sister], right? The whole reason people are here?”

Husband: *Runs towards the kitchen.* “Mum!”

It was all sorted, and we had enough food for everyone, but really?

CONTENT WARNING: Mention of animal death, medical gore.

I’m a vet tech. I took off work early one day to go meet up with some friends and acquaintances to celebrate my friend’s and his boyfriend’s engagement. Unfortunately, I was a bit later than planned getting out of work. I texted everyone as soon as I clocked out to let them know I’d be late. I should note here that they all know I work in vet med and that I took time off for the party.

After I got there, one acquaintance was lecturing me over and over and over about how I was late, how disrespectful and irresponsible it was, how it showed I don’t care, etc. She brought it up multiple times, even after people had changed the subject, and others (including the newly-engaged friend and his fiancée) had asked her to stop. She also had a history of lecturing me specifically for every perceived slight or mess-up. I finally hit my breaking point, interrupted her, and unloaded on her (not an exact quote, but the gist):

Me: “I would’ve loved nothing more than to be here on time. Unfortunately for everyone, we had an emergency come in right before I was supposed to leave. The patient had a seizure at home, fell on some construction equipment, and cut himself open. So I was busy holding this dog whose intestines had fully eviscerated through his abdomen, and who was actively seizing right up until he bled out and died in my arms.”

Me: “And of course I was completely soaked in his blood, so I couldn’t just change into the clothes I’d brought with me – I had to go home and shower before coming. I really, really, thought about just cancelling and going to sleep, but I still came because I said I would and I wanted to celebrate [friend and his fiancée] and spend time with friends.”

Me: “I said sorry when I texted I’d be late and again when I first got here. So, I’d appreciate it if you’d shut up and give me some f****** grace. God d***.”

She barely said a word to me the rest of the night and sent me an apology text the next day. I felt bad after the fact for going off on her and souring the mood for a bit, but I can’t deny that it was satisfying.