(A friend of mine works as an artist in a tattoo parlor. One of his friends is well-known for being a weird and all-around goofy kind of person, and is also a regular. He comes in for a consultation on his next tattoo.)

Friend: “Okay, so, what is it that you want?”

Regular: “I want this on my left bicep, surrounded by roses!”

(He hands over a printed out paper that says, “NO REGERTS,” in Comic Sans.)

Regular: “And it needs to be in that exact font!”

Friend: “You realize you spelled ‘regrets’ wrong, right?”

Regular: “Well, duh! I want it spelled exactly like that!”

Friend: “Is that really what you want on your bicep for the rest of your life?”

Regular: “Yep! That way if I die in a horrible accident, when my wife comes to identify the body, she can take one look at that tattoo, sigh, and go, ‘Yes, that’s my husband, all right.’”

(My friend said it was painful to do an intentionally bad tattoo, but according to him, it fit his friend’s personality perfectly, and the guy seemed happy with it, anyway.)

(I’m a trans guy. An underclassman has latched onto me as his mentor after I started dating his friend. I’ve assumed that he knows I’m trans, as it’s common knowledge among most people I talk to and he calls me “he.” We’re outside waiting for the bus when this happens.)

Friend: “So, what would you do if you got [Girlfriend] pregnant?”

Me: *surprised* “That would be quite a feat.”

Girlfriend: “Yeah.”

Me: “I guess if she was pregnant, I’d probably break up with her.”

Friend: “What? Why?!”

Girlfriend: “He can’t get me pregnant. It would mean I was cheating.”

(The subject soon changes, but as [Friend] and I get on our bus and my girlfriend gets on hers, he starts it up again.)

Friend: “So, if you got her pregnant, what would you name your kids?”

Me: “Again, I can’t get her pregnant.”

Friend: “What? Really?”

Me: “Yeah.”

Friend: “How does that work?”

(He’s very innocent, in some ways, and I kind of like that I pass as male around him. It’s nice having someone who doesn’t know I’m trans. He also tends to not have much tact, so I don’t necessarily want to get into the whole conversation right now. I don’t want to outright lie, though, so I weigh my words carefully.)

Me: “It’s a… medical thing.”

Friend: “Ah, did you get snip-snipped?” *makes scissor motion with fingers*

Me: “No, it’s complicated. I’ll tell you some other time.”

Friend: “Did you get kicked really hard? Because that’s the only reason I can think of.”

Me: “No!”

Friend: “So, your wick-wack doesn’t work like it used to?”

Me: “Kind of?”

Friend: “That’s weird.”

Me: *tired of this* “I got it fighting a dragon.”

Friend: “A dog?”

Me: “No, a dragon. A fire-breathing dragon.”

Friend: “Okaaay… Where did you find this fire-breathing dragon?”

Me: “In the land of None Of Your Business.”

Friend: “OOOH, that was good.”

(He thankfully changed the topic to Australia, scary animals, and dog breeds he’d eventually like to own. He ended up finding out I was trans later, unfortunately, and my girlfriend explained it to him. Sadly, it’s much less fun talking to him now, especially after he jokingly called me a girl right after he found out. He tried to reassure me by telling me I still “count as a ‘he,'” taking great pleasure in the fact that he knows my apparent “secret,” referencing my “non-existent [genitals],” and telling me that I “confuse him” because he “has to call me he” even though the school still makes me use female formal wear for concert attire. I’ll be distancing myself from him. Thankfully, my girlfriend is one of my fiercest supporters and corrects him whenever she can.)

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(A man calls my coffee shop on a Monday morning.)

Caller: “Yeah, my wife had some problems with an iced coffee.”

Me: “Okay, what happened?”

Caller: “She got one of those peanut butter [blended drinks] and she said it was really watery.”

Me: “Okay, her drink was too watery. What would you like me to do about this?”

Caller: “I want you to replace the drink.”

Me: “Well, I haven’t made any of those today, so I’ll have to pass you–“

Caller: “It was last night. She got it last night.”

Me: “Sir, this store isn’t open on weekends.”

Caller: *click*

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(I work at a trampoline park that gets very busy on the weekends. Often times, we sell out and turn people away. This is out of my control and tickets are sold on a first-come, first-serve basis. Sometimes, though, people decide to just buy tickets for later in the day when we’re not full. Today, we are especially full because it is New Year’s Day.)

Me: “Hi, Welcome to [Amusement Park]. How are you?”

Customer: “Yeah, I need tickets for [time].”

Me: “It looks like we’re actually sold out for that time; however, if you wanted to jump at [time 30 minutes later] I could get you in then.”

Customer: “No! I need to jump at [time]. I’ve been here before and there’s never been a problem!”

Me: “Well, ma’am, we do recommend that you buy tickets ahead of time either in the park or online to reserve your spot.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! I have these two boys with me and if they don’t get to jump, their day will be ruined!”

(She gestures to her two sons who are with her.)

Me: “Like I said, they will be able to jump, just not at that specific time. They could jump just thirty minutes later; so they would still be able to jump today.”

Customer: “Well, that’s just great! You’ve ruined these boys’ day. Happy New Year!”

(With this, she stormed off leaving her sons behind. They followed her, but one of them apologized on his way out. She came back ten minutes later and apologized for her behavior and said that she would like to buy the tickets for the later time.)

This story is part of the New Year’s Day roundup!

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(At this time my boyfriend and I are long-distance, and both in school. He’s commuting an hour and back to school every day. We video call before going to bed. I share a bedroom, and my roommate lets me know when she’s getting ready for bed so I can end the conversation or move to the living room.)

Roommate: *coming into bedroom* “When are you guys planning to go to sleep?”

Me: “I don’t know. Sweetie, when are you going to sleep?”

Boyfriend: *sounding quite drowsy* “As often as possible.”

Roommate: *cracking up* “That means now.”