I work in a small library in the middle of a neighborhood. The library has a max of four staff, including the branch manager. This morning, the branch manager is not in, so it is just two coworkers and me.

I am the first one to arrive in order to deactivate the security system and start prepping for the day. On my way into the library, I pass a man sitting out front who says good morning. This isn’t unusual as people are always around the library at any time.

I head inside, and a few minutes later, [Coworker #1] shows up.

Coworker #1: “There’s some guy in the field next door on his knees and praying.”

That’s a bit odd, but I think that maybe it’s the guy from before and don’t think anything more. Right before opening, [Coworker #2] shows up.

Coworker #2: “I found a box with a knife tied to it sitting on our book drop! There wasn’t anyone around.”

[Coworker #1] and I mention the man that we saw.

Coworker #2: “I saw no one.”

She locks the box up in our meeting room so it isn’t accessible to any patrons.

When we open, a few patrons come into the library over the span of twenty or thirty minutes. Some are browsing; others are using the computers. In comes the man that I saw this morning with a piece of paper that he sets on the counter. Both of my coworkers are nearby and within earshot.

Man: “Hello. You took my box and knife this morning, and I need you to sign this paper saying I’m legally allowed to have it on property.”

Me: “Uh, no, sir, I cannot. My coworker took your box because it was unattended on our book drop. You legally cannot have a weapon on the property.”

Man: “But you took it, so you must sign this paper or give it back to me.”

[Coworker #2] comes over and stands next to me.

Me: “No, sir. I cannot sign this paper. We will give it back to you, but you cannot have the knife on the property. If we give it back, you have to take the knife off the property.”

Man: “I can’t do that. It’s a ceremonial Irish knife and it’s protecting the contents of the box.”

My coworker and I just stare at the man, trying to process what he is saying.

Me: “Uh, then you can just put the box and knife in your car.”

Man: “I don’t have a car.”

I’m starting to get flustered when my coworker speaks up.

Coworker #2: “I was the one who took your box because there was no one there when I found it. We can’t sign your paper, and we’ll give it back to you, but you can’t have it on the property. You have to do something with it when we give it to you.”

Man: “Okay, I will take it off property, but I need it. The knife is protecting the contents of the box.”

[Coworker #2] goes and retrieves the box and gives it to the man. He leaves the library. [Coworker #2] goes to the office to call the police. The man comes back in, without the box, and gets on one of the computers.

Sometime later, a cop shows up and talks with [Coworker #2] and me. We explain about the man, the box, and the knife. The cop looks at the man and walks over to him. She takes him outside to talk to him. A few minutes later, the cop and the man come back in. The cop comes up to my coworker and me.

Cop: “I asked him to show me where he put the box, and he’d buried it in the field next to the library. I had him open it up and show me the contents, and it’s nothing to worry about. I’ve encountered him numerous times. He’s a bit off but harmless. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

We thanked the cop and she left. The man didn’t stay too long afterward. He left, and to this day, we have no idea what was in the box. It’s definitely one of the strangest experiences I’ve had working in a library so far.

I’m planning to move from South Carolina to North Carolina and have reached the point where I need to look at houses in person. My brother already lives near my destination, so I’m going to stay with him while looking at houses with my realtor, whom I’ve only spoken to on the phone so far.

I’m looking for something fairly remote — as I put it, “Far enough from the neighbors that nobody will mind if I sing at the top of my voice in the middle of the night, and far enough from the road that my cat can play outside without any danger of getting run over.”

Two days before I leave for my brother’s, I call my realtor to plan our itinerary.

Me: “I’d like to start with [list of addresses]. They’re fairly close together and all looked good online.”

Realtor: “Okay, I can schedule those for [Day I plan to drive to North Carolina].”

Me: “That works, but I’ll be pretty drained from four hours on the road. Rather than both of us driving to each house, can I meet you at your office and both go in your car? I have a terrible sense of direction and I just don’t think I’ll be up to driving to three unfamiliar locations that afternoon.”

I have GPS on my phone, but I get very nervous if I don’t know the way to a destination ahead of time, and I have trouble following spoken directions, so I only ever use it as an emergency backup.

Realtor: “People don’t ask me that very often, but yes, we can do that.”

We talk a bit longer, and I hang up. I have a feeling that I’ve messed up somehow, but can’t put my finger on it at first. Then, I ask my mom:

Me: “Hang on. Did I just ask a man I barely know to drive me to three of the most isolated houses I could find in an unfamiliar state, specifically because I’ll be tired, out-of-it, and incapable of finding my way to or home from them on my own?”

It honestly hadn’t occurred to me until I hung up that that might be dangerous, especially since I’m a woman. My brother ended up taking me to view the houses, and the realtor was a perfectly nice guy, but I don’t think that conversation did me any favors in the “convincing Mom I’ll be okay living on my own” area.

I’ve submitted a few stories about my pain-in-the-rear mother-in-law, including this one. She is very generous… with other people’s time and stuff. My husband came home one day telling me his mother stopped him to ask a favor… or rather tell him she wants to have the neighbor over for dinner… at my house, of course, where I would do all the work. Now, normally, I would tell her no, but I liked this guy and his wife had passed away just a few months earlier and I adored her. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my [Mother-In-Law] was trying to get her claws into this poor man. Spoiler alert: she didn’t.

At the time, my firstborn was only about eighteen months old and was eating at the table with us. Of course, a toddler is a bit picky, so she would not eat certain foods. Seeing her opportunity to prove how superior she was, [Mother-In-Law] started berating me.

Mother-In-Law: “You should make your child eat what is put in front of her! You’re a horrible mother and you’re raising a spoiled brat!”

She went on for several minutes with my miserable (still in the dark about his mother) husband chiming in. I let them go on ticking me off and making [Neighbor] noticeably uncomfortable.

A few minutes after the b****-fest ended, I casually offered [Neighbor] some broccoli, knowing full well he would politely turn it down because I know he does not like it. My kids love broccoli, so we always have some at dinner. 

Me: *Calmly* “It’s quite funny, [Neighbor]. When an adult turns down a food they do not like, it is no problem, but if a child, who can be easily bullied, does so, well, we must force them to eat. Perhaps I should take a fork and force you to eat some whether you like it or not. I mean, we wouldn’t want you to be a spoiled brat or anything.”

[Mother-In-Law] turned red. [Husband] stopped eating and looked at me with shock. (He realized he had screwed up and was so going to get it later. He did and never did that again.) I just kept on eating and smiling. [Neighbor] had a wide grin on his face and I found out later that he was sure to let all the neighbors know that I had put [Mother-In-Law] in her place. [Mother-In-Law] has a reputation in our neighborhood of being a nutcase; she just doesn’t know it.

Funny, [Mother-In-Law] didn’t talk the rest of the night and never asked us to have him over again. Wonder why?

Related:
The Preemie Clothes Are A Lie
The Room For Rent Is A Lie
The Cake Price Is A Lie

I’ve submitted a few stories about my pain-in-the-rear mother-in-law, including this one. She is very generous… with other people’s time and stuff, and she gets pretty frustrated because I never let her have her way.

One day, she came over to the house long after my baby was in bed, and my husband was working late. She said she wanted to talk to me; that’s never a good sign.

Mother-In-Law: “Look, I have a coworker that just had a preemie like you did. They weren’t expecting this and are in desperate need of clothes. Could I take your preemie clothes since [Baby] is over six months old now?”

Me: “I don’t have any preemie clothes except the two special ones that were for photos, and I intend on keeping those.”

She started raising her voice and getting mad.

Mother-In-Law: “Well, I already told them you would give them the clothes, so go get them.”

Me: “Well, that was stupid since they weren’t yours to give. Besides, this is our first child, and we may have more, so it would be incredibly financially stupid to get rid of anything yet.” 

Mother-In-Law: *Getting more upset* “But you could help them. What are they supposed to do?”

Me: “They can do what I did. Buy gowns and roll up the sleeves.”

Mother-In-Law: “But I already told them I would bring them the clothes tomorrow! I will look bad!”

Me: “Yeah, you will. Don’t promise things you are not in any position to provide. You will also learn a very valuable lesson that I really don’t care if you look bad. That nonsense works on your kids, not on me.”

She huffed off and tried to “tell on me” to hubby. When he asked if I could just give something to “keep the peace,” I informed him that I would have gladly before, but not now, because his mother needed to learn a valuable lesson with me or she would just keep doing it. She had to be taught that lesson a few more times before she got it.

Related:
The Room For Rent Is A Lie
The Cake Price Is A Lie

As a teenager, my brother parked his car in neutral at the top of a hill one too many times, and it rolled all the way down, picking up a fair bit of speed before it crashed into a tree. Soon after, he was filling out an insurance claim online.

Form: “Was the car in motion at the time of the accident?”

Brother: “Yes.”

This triggered a required follow-up question.

Form: “Who was driving the car?”

Brother: “…”

Me: “Try entering ‘Sir Isaac Newton’.”

He eventually had to cancel the form and talk to a human agent, who agreed that there was really no good way for him to file online. Apparently, it had never occurred to the people who wrote the form that a car might move without a driver.