(In Brisbane, where I live, passenger trains typically have six carriages. Carriages two and five are designated “quiet carriages,” and passengers are requested not to talk loudly or play loud music or electronic devices. I like sitting in these carriages on my way to and from work because I’m very much an introvert and struggle with having a lot of people around me. These little areas of — relative — peace and tranquility make my hour-long commute so much more bearable. This story starts a couple of stops down the line from mine when a lady gets up out of her seat, walks to the door area, and loudly announces:)

Passenger: “Hello, train people!” 

(She then starts to ramble on about getting up and moving, and says something about dancing before playing some music on her phone. She then turns to the nearest person, which happens to be me, and tries to get me up to dance. At this, I simply pull one of my earbuds out of my ear, point to the “quiet carriage” sign on the window, and say:)

Me: “Just so you know, this is a quiet carriage.”

(She looks where I’m pointing, reads the bit about no loud music or talking, turns back to me, and says:)

Passenger: “Oh, do you want me to get off, then?”

(I am a bit taken aback that she hasn’t even made the smallest attempt to apologise for disturbing the carriage, so I say:)

Me: “Actually, if you don’t mind, that’d be great.”

Passenger: “I’ve got so much love in my heart. Do you need a hug?”

(I’m not proud of my reply, but all I want is to do was sit in peace on my way to work.)

Me: “No, I need you to shut up.”

(It did the trick, though, because she packed up her stuff and moved to another carriage.)

My three-year-old daughter recently got a betta fish as a first pet, and one afternoon we go to the local pet store to buy a decoration for his tank. She picks out a yellow submarine and proudly walks it to the checkout counter.

As I’m paying, I feel something large and fuzzy bump into me, sending my daughter a few steps back, as well. A massive dog has jumped onto the counter and pulled the submarine down, breaking it. The dog is bigger than my daughter and she begins to cry because she can’t get to me. 

The woman holding the dog gives a token apology while doing little to rein the dog in. I have to move past the dog and pick up my daughter, who is starting to cry. The lady then proceeds to say there’s no reason to worry; her dog is fine — I wasn’t worried about the dog.

She then proceeds to talk to the clerk checking me out, demanding to know if another employee is working, all while he’s still trying to process my payment. 

The clerk discounts the damaged submarine and I head out, clutching my crying daughter, all while the woman with the dog that’s too big for her to control sits there, unsure why everyone is upset. I’ve always liked dogs, but now I know I don’t like dog people!

(I’ve stopped by a local 24/7 store. There are a couple of people in line in front of me. A woman walks up behind me.)

Woman: *clears her throat and coughs* “I left my wallet in the car.”  

(I don’t react because I really don’t think she is talking to me.)

Woman: *nudges me with her arm* “Did you hear me? I left my wallet in the car.”

Me: “Okay?”

(I get to the counter and she steps up next to me, drops her stuff, and tells the clerk:)

Woman: “I need [Brand] cigarettes.” 

(The clerk rings up my stuff, then swipes the cigarettes.)

Clerk: “May I see your ID, sir?”

Me: “Um, those aren’t mine.”

(The clerk looks from me to the woman and back.)

Woman: “Oh, it’s okay. I told you, my wallet’s in the car.”

Me: “And?” *shaking my head at the clerk* “Take them off, please. I’m not buying cigarettes.”

Woman: “But… I told you…”

Me: “And I would assume that’s your car parked right outside the door. I’m sure they’ll hold everything for you.”

Woman: “Look, my money is right outside in the car.”

Me: “No.”

Woman: “No?! What do you mean, no? You’re calling me a liar?”

Me: “Ma’am, I don’t know you and am not calling you anything. ‘No’ means I won’t loan you any money.”

Woman: “Not even just until I walk to my car? I can’t believe you!”

Me: “And I can’t believe you think that I’m just going to buy you cigarettes with my own money when your car is literally right outside the door with the wallet inside.”

Woman: “You seriously won’t save me a few steps when you know I can pay you back in just a few minutes?”

(I don’t know that, actually. She could be lying about her wallet, and then I’d be out the money. This lady has gall to pull a scam like this. Before I can say this, a customer who came in behind her speaks up.)

Other Customer: “Look, lady, either walk out and get your money, or walk out and get in your car. Either way, walk out.”

Clerk: “Ma’am, if you want cigarettes, I need to see your ID, as well.”

(The woman huffed loudly and stormed out. I could see her sitting in her vehicle glaring at me as I left. She was making no move to grab her supposed wallet, so I suspect I dodged a pretty obvious bullet. I called the non-emergency police number and let them know that this lady was lurking around the store trying to get people to buy cigarettes with no ID, and they reassured me that they’d send a patrol car around. I just found it kind of amazing that she was pulling a pretty obvious scam right in front of a store clerk, and it never occurred to her that her lack of an ID would trip her up, anyway.)

I came out of work a week or so ago to find that someone had keyed my car. There were scratches all up and down one side of the car, and one of the mirrors had actually been broken off and was laying on the ground. I initially thought someone might have scraped against the car, but the scratches were in big circles that really couldn’t have occurred just from someone scraping across the side.

As I was examing the damages and trying to figure who would do this, I found a scrap of paper wedged underneath my windshield wiper. I pulled it out and found that it was a short note.

It read, “Sorry, needed to vent.”

That was it. Thanks to the fact that my work’s parking lot doesn’t have cameras, they got away clean, so I hope they enjoyed venting $800 worth of damages onto my car.

(I’m a dental student. During our fourth year, all of us have to do a week-long rotation at the ICU to provide “dental healthcare” to comatose patients — basically brushing their teeth with an iodine scrub and calling it a day. One of the patients is conscious but intubated, and he speaks using a whiteboard. After I finish brushing his teeth, a nurse comes into the room and makes small talk.)

Nurse: “So, I heard that [Woman] visited you yesterday, huh?”

(The patient nods.)

Nurse: “That’s nice! Also, your daughters called this morning; they want to come a bit later.”

Patient: *on the whiteboard* “Did they say what time?”

Nurse: “During the afternoon. They were afraid you’d get bored and alone, though, so I told them not to worry since [Woman] came by.”

(I see the patient’s eyes widen and he starts furiously scribbling on his whiteboard.)

Patient: “THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT [WOMAN]!”

(I had to leave the room and didn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes.)