I have a bit of holiday trauma from an abusive, overly-religious stepmother. My father usually deliberately worked on holidays to avoid her religious fanaticism but allowed her to burn gifts we got that weren’t religious enough. As such, I’m not a big fan of Christmas, and as an adult, I don’t celebrate it for years.

When I marry my wife, who loves Christmas and has a religious mother, I brace myself for the holidays.

Wife: “Honey, I found the perfect tree!”

Me: *Trying to fake enthusiasm* “Oh, cool!”

Mother-In-Law: “[Wife], show her what you found. Trust me, you’ll like this.”

My wife drags in a completely black tree.

Me: *Stunned* “Is that… a black tree? I didn’t even know those were a thing!”

Wife: “Yeah! I’ve always wanted a black tree but Mom prefers real trees, which don’t come in black. But I found this one at work on clearance… and these ornaments!”

Me: “Are those dragons? You got dragon Christmas ornaments?”

Wife: “I know you love dragons. Plus, I figured we could get a skull tree topper or something. And I work with a woman that makes custom wrapping paper, so I figured we can order some of that and wrap our gifts in it. She does coffins, bats, blood splatters…”

Me: “Okay, I might be coming around on Christmas now.”

Mother-In-Law:  “I did find an angel tree topper for you, though.”

She proudly pulls out a Weeping Angel from “Doctor Who,” a show all three of us love. 

Mother-In-Law: “What do you think?”

Me: “I think that, for the first time. I’m actually excited about decorating for Christmas.”

Our holiday wreath has flowers and skulls on it, and none of the religious family members batted an eye when they saw our decorations. My wife’s preacher grandfather even asked us where we got our bat wrapping paper because he loved it so much and ordered some for himself. I look forward to Christmas now!

I work at a store where we have special sales for our members. If they buy specific items, which change every week, they can get a gift card back for part or all of their purchase.

It is a few days before Christmas and we are promoting a massage gun that is on one of these sales. It is important to note that while most such guns have three or four smaller balls on the end, this one only has a single one. I’ve also only been working retail for a month. A husband and wife are looking at the massage gun while I am ringing them up.

Wife: “How much is this?”

Me: “$49.99, but you’ll also get a $30 gift card back.”

Wife: *To her husband* “Do you think [Female Friend] would like this?”

The husband has been quiet up until now, but he responds to his wife’s question. 

Husband: “I don’t know. Don’t you think it looks a little sexual?”

I was stunned. Looking at the product, I could see how he would think that, but who actually says that to the poor cashier who has to sell that product? He laughed at the look on my face and his wife scolded him for “embarrassing” me. I quickly finished ringing them up.

Fortunately, they were my last customers for a few minutes, and I was able to regain my composure.

Yesterday, I went grocery shopping. Among other things, I bought a loaf of pre-packaged garlic bread to use for dinner tonight. It was on the kitchen counter when my husband came in.

Husband: “Great, garlic bread. Can I have some now?” 

Me: “I have to bake it. It’s only partially baked.”

Husband: “Yeah, but can I have some now?”

Me: “It’s not baked.”

Husband: “Okay, but can I have some?”

Me: “It’s not cooked.”

Husband: “Okay, but can I have some?”

Me: *Giving up* “If you want to eat raw bread, help yourself.”

So, he cut himself a piece and chowed down… and made a face.

Husband: “Wow, this is pretty bad.”

He spat out what was in his mouth.

Me: “Really, eating raw bread wasn’t as great as you were expecting. Can’t imagine why.”

Husband: “Raw? Why didn’t you say so?”

Me: “I did. You didn’t want to hear it.”

He plunked down the piece of bread he cut and sulked away.

Side note, I baked it for dinner tonight. It was delicious when baked up all crispy and golden.

My wife and her girlfriends all liked getting together for various holidays after college life ended. She had known her girlfriends since first or second grade and they all grew up together. On holidays such as the Fourth of July, Halloween, and Thanksgiving, they’d make plans for everyone to get together with their significant others and eventually kids as they came into the picture.

My wife and I were the first out of her girlfriends to get married and we were the first to have a kid out of the group.

One of her friends got married a year or two after us and had a kid about nine months after we did. I always liked her friend, but I never liked her boyfriend (now husband). He was just one of those people you meet and you can’t figure out why, but you don’t like them. He gave off a bad vibe that I can’t describe. Even the wife’s friend at one point was uncertain if she should stay with him because of how he acted and treated her. He wasn’t physically abusive and he wasn’t really verbally abusive, but he kind of treated her as a mother figure and not a wife. He was always expecting her to drop what she was doing at any given time to do things for him, and he couldn’t be bothered to help out when she needed help. She stuck with him and married him. This story takes place about two years after their first son was born.

I like speaking my mind; it’s the one thing my wife is incapable of until she’s really pissed. She knows I don’t like her friend’s husband and she constantly tells me to not say anything and to be nice when we get together as a group.

Well, this time, my wife isn’t in the room and an opportunity presents itself.

It is a July Fourth get-together. My daughter is about three and my wife’s friend’s son is about two. Inside, at the dining room table, my wife’s friend has my daughter sitting on one knee and her son sitting on the other and she’s entertaining them and helping them eat. My wife is outside chatting with other people and I’m inside helping with my daughter.

From outside, in walks [Friend]’s husband. He sees her sitting at the table with two kids in her lap and helping them eat. I know he sees her because when he walks in, he looks directly at her, and then his eyes shift to me as I sit next to her and my daughter on her knee. He walks through the kitchen area, fills his plate with food, walks past the drinks — beer, assorted alcohol, and pop — and then walks back to the patio door. As he’s about to step outside, he stops, turns, and says to his wife:

Friend’s Husband: “Wifey, go get me a beer and bring it out to me right now.”

Friend: “Sure, I can do that.”

Me: *To the wife’s friend* “No, you’re busy helping the kids. You don’t need to stop what you’re doing to get a beer for him. He should have grabbed his own as he walked by them.”

Friend: “That’s okay. I can get him one.”

She goes to move the kids off her lap, but I stop her and shake my head no.

Friend’s Husband: “Now.”

I shoot her husband a nasty glare and finally get to speak my mind because my wife isn’t in the room to stop me.

Me: “No. She’s busy. You clearly see she has two kids on her lap that she’s helping feed, and you walked right past the beer on your way through the kitchen. You can get your own f****** beer.”

It felt so good to finally say something to that jerk.

He looked at me like a deer in the headlights, his face turned bright red, and he sulked out the door with his food. He never did get a beer from his wife that day, and in the nearly ten years since this incident, he’s avoided me at any gatherings.

A woman comes in with a return. At first glance, it’s no big deal, just coming in to return a shirt. She hands me the receipt to start processing and we exchange a pleasant greeting.

I take the shirt out of the bag to examine it and it is beyond disgusting. There are brown sweat stains all over it, from the pits to the stomach to the shoulder. It looks like whoever wore it rolled in mud or some nonsense.

Me: “I cannot return the product because it has clearly been used, and only unused and re-sellable items can be returned.”

Customer: “That’s a lie!”

I hold up the shirt and point to the brown pit stains.

Me: “Can’t you see these stains?”

Customer: “Get me your manager!”

I am the manager and I’m not budging! After several minutes of complaining, she finally leaves.

Customer: “I’ll be complaining to corporate and getting you fired!”

Fast forward a few days. A guy walked into the store, found the first store associate he could, and immediately asked for me by name. Uh-oh, here we go again. My associate brought the guy over to where I was standing, and I politely greeted him.

The guy spent the next ten minutes apologizing for his crazy wife verbally abusing my staff and me a few days prior. Apparently, the guy went to the beach and did some type of CrossFit training class IN THE SAND. His wife knew all of this; she was at the class with him! The guy ended up not liking the shirt for some reason and his wife thought she could pull a fast one on us by making a scene.