Masks are mandatory in my entire state. This particular grocery store that I was at has large, clear signs not only outside the store but throughout the entire store, and they will kick anybody out who tries to walk in without a mask or face covering. But that doesn’t stop people who try to cheat the system.

My daughter and I were at the store shopping and I saw a woman and what could have been her daughter not wearing masks. The older one was holding one in her hands and the younger one didn’t have one at all. As I passed by them, I quietly said, “You ladies need to put your masks back on.”

The older woman launched into a screaming fit about how she had some breathing ailment, and she couldn’t breathe, and I needed to mind my bleeping business.

I said, “Oh, I understand about difficulty breathing; that’s why I have one of these.” I point to my face shield.

You would have thought that I suggested she go eat feces. She turned red in the face and started screaming even louder about how they didn’t have any money, only food stamps, and on and on. I imagine the entire store could hear her rant as she was so loud.

I know how to pick my battles and refuse to fight with unreasonable people, so I just turned away. But as they were walking by, I thought, “Wait, you supposedly have this problem; what about the younger woman?” But I just let it go. 

I did happen to notice the case of beer in her cart; you can’t buy those with food stamps. Seems she had money after all. It’s all a matter of priorities, and caring about her fellow human being is lower on the list for her than beer.

It’s been my observation that those who scream and protest the loudest quite often do not have whatever ailment they claim to have. We didn’t see them again until we were leaving the store and she was screaming and cursing at somebody else. I just shook my d*** head.

My brother has always had a temper, so it came as no surprise to me or my siblings when our mother called to tell us that he had been arrested. My parents, naturally, were shocked, given that they were in the mindset that their kids could do no wrong, but for the rest of us, the only surprise was in what actually ended up getting him arrested.

The story, as far as I can interpret through the face-saving my brother and mother tried to do, was that someone had started to leave nasty messages on my brother’s windshield, supposedly “unprovoked.” They were things along the lines of, “Your car is ugly,” “You’re a horrible person,” and, “Go kill yourself.” My brother hatched the “brilliant” plan to try and catch this person rather than doing something like telling the landlord of the apartment complex or just, you know, ignoring the juvenile notes and moving on with his life.

He parked his car, got out, and then hid himself in a tall set of bushes nearby and proceeded to sit there for several hours. In the middle of summer. In California.

Finally, one of his neighbors parked nearby and then walked over with a note that they put onto his windshield. At that point, my brother jumped out of the bushes and rushed the guy, swinging at him with a large stick he’d found in the bushes as he was crouching there. He missed, denting his own car hood, and then the guy took a swing back at him and actually hit.

They started brawling until the police showed up and they both got arrested.

I am eating out, sitting in a booth, when I suddenly feel a sharp pain on top of my head. I flinch and turn to look, and I end up dodging the second swing of a spoon being held by a toddler in the next booth over. He has evidently stood up and decided that drumming on my head with a spoon would be a lot of fun.

I look at his parents; both of them are fully engrossed in their phones and are paying absolutely no attention.

The toddler swings again. I dodge and then fix him with a direct stare and a frown, before sharply shaking my head.

Me: “No, that hurts.”

The smile he has been wearing fades, and he ends up turning around and flopping down on the seat. I turn back to my meal, figuring that is the end of it, when the mother speaks up.

Mother: “How dare you?!”

I turn to see her glaring back at me.

Mother: “It’s not your place to scold my kid.”

Me: “It’s not my place to be your kid’s drum, either.”

She scoffed and actually stuck out her tongue before turning back to her phone. Meanwhile, her kid had moved on to doodling on the menu with a couple of crayons.

Our son’s college orientation is held at a posh hotel. The first group of parents and students are entering when I hear a woman asking for money for the bus.

A few give her some. Just the three people around us who do give her over fifty dollars total. Most of us, though, just shake our heads and move on.

As we do, I hear her muttering.

Woman: “D*** stuck-up rich b****es can’t even give me money for the bus.”

That is the last straw for me.

Me: “Lady, most of us are working class. We all have kids entering [Prestigious Local College]. We don’t have money to spare. I know you’ve gotten more than fifty dollars in the last five minutes. I haven’t had that in my wallet since the college application process began.”

I wish I could say she slunk off in shame, but as we left, she was begging the second wave of parents for a little money for the bus.

I am on a date with a guy. We’ve known each other for a while due to mutual friends and it’s our second date. We are at an Italian restaurant.

Me: “Oh! The bruschetta comes with pesto. I love pesto. Do you want to share?”

Date: “Sorry, I wish I could but I don’t eat pesto; it has pine nuts in it.”

Me: “Pine nuts? Oh, wow. I did not know that.”

Date: “Yeah, I’m severely allergic.”

Me: *Joking* “I guess I should forgo the pesto if I want a good night kiss, huh?”

We are both laughing when a woman from another table, about three empty tables away, marches over to us.

Woman: “He’s lying!”

Me: *Confused* “Um? Hello? Are you okay?”

Woman: “He’s lying. Pesto doesn’t have pine nuts in. He’s a f****** liar.”

Date: “I think you’ll find that pesto is made from pine nuts and basil.”

Woman: “No. It isn’t.”

Me: “Whatever. Can you go? We’re trying to enjoy our meal.”

Waiter: “Hi, everyone! Can I take your order or do you need a few more minutes?”

Woman: “These two idiots think that pesto comes with pine nuts.”

Waiter: “Miss, this is a two-seater table. If you have a party of three, would you like me to move you to a bigger table?”

Date & Me: “No!”

Me: “We don’t know her. She just came over and started going off about pesto.”

Waiter: “Miss, if that’s true, you’re going to have to return to your seat.”

Woman: “But they’re lying!”

The woman refused to move until the chef, manager, and waiter returned with provided allergy information. She was taken back to her table to get her purse before she was escorted from the building. Her husband and children did not get up from their food to join her, meaning this probably wasn’t an unusual occurrence.