This is during the global health crisis just when vaccinations are finally available to the general public. While vaccinations were initially held at the hospital, the new location is at an abandoned store in a nearby mall to maximize space and how many people can fit in.

As I’m leaving the mall after my appointment, two teenage boys are coming into the mall and they shout something at me. It doesn’t register right away, but I finally realize what they said to me and I am shocked.

Later, when I get home, my mom and I are talking.

Mom: “How was your appointment? Did you have any side effects or were you okay?”

Me: “I was fine, but as I left, two teenagers called me the N-word.”

Mom: “Oh, my God! Are you serious?!”

Me: “Yeah, it took me a second, but I honestly can’t believe it happened.”

Mom: “But… you’re white. It’s not even like you’re tan; you’re the pastiest person I know.”

Me: “No one ever said racists were smart.”

I’m guessing they were just heckling me because they were anti-vax idiots and just shouted the first hateful comment that came to mind, but it was still very weird.

I’m minding my own business in the toy aisle of a department store when a lady from the other end starts walking up to me. I haven’t been in retail for at least five years now, but apparently, one still maintains their Retail Sense.

Customer: “You! You got any kids?”

Me: “Uh, no?”

Customer: “Ah, darn…”

My Retail Sense is tingling.

Me: “I do have a niece and nephew, though.”

Customer: “Great! What would you get an eleven-year-old girl?”

I have always loathed that type of gendered question, as older kids are their own people! With their own unique interests and likes and dislikes! I internally sigh but figure I’ll help this lady so this poor random girl will at least get something nice.

Me: “Well, at eleven, she’s likely kind of established in her interests. Do you know what she likes?”

Customer: “Nope!”

The lady grins and continues before I can further ask.

Customer: “She’s my niece!”

Me: “…”

Customer: “She’s my favorite niece, actually; we have loads of fun together. I have eleven nieces and nephews, but I hang with her the most. I love that kid so much. But when I asked her what she wanted, she just told me to pick something I’d like! And…”

She begins to go into her Life Story while I desperately try not to judge how an aunt is unable to know enough about her favorite niece to get her something. Eventually, there’s a pause in her rambling.

Me: “Well, it sounds like she really enjoys spending time with you. Why not get an activity yins can do together? Or maybe a game?”

Customer: “Oh, yeah, we love games! That’s what my brother said, too, and…”

Another verse of the Life Story begins. Feeling that I’ve at least directed her to the right line of thinking, I go on my phone and pretend to compare prices or something. She continues her story with me giving small “oh”s and “mmhmm”s every now and then.

Customer: “Well, thanks. I have a good idea of what to get her now. Bye!”

I am so used to the “What to get [age]-year-olds?” questions during Christmas when strangers try to be nice and gift to the less fortunate. But this lady… I’m just shaking my head.

CONTENT WARNING: Cancer, House Fire, Death

When I was a teenager, I didn’t have a computer or printer to work on different assignments, so after school, I would walk my dog over to my grandma’s house as she lived nearby, and I would work on homework at her house.

My grandma was a smoker her whole life, and as a result, she got lung cancer and had to be on oxygen. I was at her house one day and I saw that she was still smoking, so I told my dad.

Me: “Hey, Grandma’s still smoking.”

Dad: “What do you mean? She’s on oxygen.”

Me: “She just kinks the hose when she smokes.”

Dad: “WHAT?!”

I thought he was just upset that she was still smoking despite being on oxygen and having lung cancer. The reason why he was really upset was that you can literally cause the house to go up in flames. He called all his siblings, and they chewed her out for not only putting herself in danger but my grandpa, me, and my dog, as well. As a result, I was banned from going over to her house, and if I needed to work on something, I would have to text one of my parents in the morning so they would know to go take me to the library after school.

Years later, I was talking to my sister on the phone.

Sister: “Hey, did you hear about what happened to one of the couples Mom and Dad camp with?”

Me: “No. What happened?”

Sister: “The husband went to church and the wife stayed home, and while she was smoking on oxygen, the house went up in flames and she died. They figured it must have been suicide, because who would be that stupid to do something like that?”

Me: “And yet…”

Sister: “At least this lady waited until she was home alone. Grandma gave no f***s about anyone else.”

About twice a year or so, the beauty department I work in will get completely rearranged to make way for new products and brands. It’s an extremely tedious process because, usually, we clean off all the shelves while we’re at it.

The pusher trays used to hold things like lipstick are notoriously hard to clean, so I get the idea to use compressed air to get the dust out. It works amazingly, and my coworkers go and grab their own cans. 

Me: “You know how to use it, right?”

Coworker: “Yeah. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

He then proceeds to shake the can. 

Me: “Stop! What are you doing?”

Coworker: “What do you mean?”

Me: “Look at the can and read the warning label.”

Coworker: “‘Warning, pressurized air. Do not shake for risk of bodily injury.’ Oh.”

I’ve gotten a new job offer and I need to get a background check, so I need to have my birth certificate or social security card. My parents have just sold their house, and I am in my new apartment. I know that during the packing, they never gave me these documents from the safe, so I call and ask for them. 

Mom: “We emptied everything out of that safe, so we gave them to you. Look around.”

I’ve checked everything, but I know they did not give them to me as I know I also had savings bonds with those documents but have never actually seen them.

Me: “I’ve looked, and I know for a fact that you never gave them to me. Are you sure you don’t have them?”

Mom: “You are so irresponsible, losing probably the most important documents you need in life!”

I eventually order copies but end up having to pass on the job as I can’t pass the test. I’m still stewing in anger knowing they are the ones who lost the documents and couldn’t even admit to it.

Later in the year, while they are in their house in Florida, I am on the phone with them when my dad slips up and says something.

Dad: “Oh, yeah, we found something of yours while unpacking.”

I hear my mom in the background.

Mom: “Don’t tell her!”

Me: “Now I’m curious. Go ahead and tell me what you found.”

Dad: “You were right; we had your social and birth certificate. They were in your mom’s jewelry box.”

Me: “And look who’s the irresponsible one now.”

They promise to bring the documents up when they return for the summer. When they return… they forget to bring me the documents.

Me: “Hey, I know you guys stopped by, but all you brought was the title to my car. You still never brought my social and birth certificate.”

Mom: “I know I did. You probably lost it.”

I thought, “Here we go again!”

The next year when they went to Florida, I demanded that they check the jewelry box again and, sure enough, my documents were still there. I didn’t trust them again, so I demanded that they send them in the mail. They were finally safely returned to me and out of my parents’ forgetful clutches.