(I am a university student, and money is beyond tight. I am walking through the station, catching a train home for the holidays, when a beggar stops me, asking for money.)

Beggar: “Hey, you. I need money for a ticket; can you spare me a tenner?”

Me: “Sorry, I don’t have any coins on me.”

Beggar: “That’s okay; I can easily break a hundred for you.”

Me: “Then you have more money than me, so no. Goodbye.”

(She followed me, cursing at me all through the station, until I detoured past a couple of police officers walking by and slipped away.)

My mother and I were waiting for the bus, sitting in a picnic-style table, and I went inside the bus station. When I came back, my mother was arguing with some man, and he was gesturing lewdly at his crotch and giving us the middle finger.

When I asked my mother what had happened, she told me that the man was about to smoke near her, and she asked politely that he go smoke a little ways away, because she has asthma.

That apparently didn’t sit well with him, and he was very rude. She snapped at him at some point and told him to go to h***.

Apparently, he started feeling remorse, as he bought some candy from the store inside and threw them at our table.

(My friends and I have decided to spend our Saturday night at our favourite bar. Because I’m the designated driver, I’m sticking to a soda. I’ve left my half-finished drink on my table to go dancing. I figure that it’ll be safe, because one of my friends is staying at the table. When I get back, my glass is completely empty.)

Me: “What the h***? What happened to my soda?”

Friend: *grinning* “You know that creepy guy that’s always hanging around, waiting for other people to leave their drinks unattended so that he can finish them?”

Me: “You mean he drank my soda?”

Friend: “Yup.”

Me: “Why didn’t you stop him?”

Friend: “Because he was obviously hoping that it was alcoholic. He looked really peeved that it was only soda.”

Me: “Well, that’s great and all, but now I’m drinkless.”

Friend: “I’ll buy you another one. It was worth it just to see his face.”

(I don’t know if the creepy guy changed his ways after that, but he never tried to steal one of my drinks again, anyway.)

(I am sitting in the lobby of the state university I attend when I overhear this conversation:)

Man: “I have so much debt. I don’t know what I’m going to do. My students loans are going to kill me.”

Woman: “Why don’t you transfer to [Nearby Private University that is four times more expensive]?

Man: “I’ll look into it. I have to figure out what I’m going to do about this. I have my mortgage, my student loans, and a bunch of credit card debt. I only make six figures a year.”

(ONLY six figures?!)

(My husband and I own a four bedroom house — two up, two down. As my husband is disabled and uses a wheelchair or crutches to get around, we have converted the downstairs bedrooms and bathroom into one big suite, as he also works from home and uses the second bedroom as his office. Our long-term boarder — a guy in his late 20s — is moving out soon, so we post an ad on a popular free website advertising for someone working full time or studying to rent the second bedroom upstairs. They would be sharing the second bathroom and a small lounge room with our boarder until he moves. We have quite a few interesting people come to have a look, but this girl and her parents take the cake. The girl is eighteen and about to start university; her parents come along as they will be paying her rent. We chat for a bit, and they meet our boarder briefly before he leaves for work. Before I show them around the house, the mother asks to use the toilet, so I show her to the half bath we also have on the ground floor. A few minutes later, she comes back.)

Mother: “I saw the room. So big, and the en suite is brilliant. We’ll take it.”

Me: *confused as the ad had pictures of the medium-sized room and bathroom* “I’m sorry, ma’am, but you must have looked at our room. The room available is upstairs.”

Mother: “Oh, no. We want the room down here. It’s perfect, with the extra room for her to study and a nice big bathroom.”

Husband: “Ma’am, that is our bedroom. If you’d like to see the available room, [My Name] will show you upstairs.”

Wife: “No. [Daughter] will be a guest in your home. We will not pay [extremely reasonable price for a fully-furnished room including all bills] for her to be stuck in a tiny room upstairs and share a bathroom with a junkie pedophile. The room down here is perfect.”

(Now I’m getting angry, as the ad clearly states that the room is upstairs, and that the top level will be shared with our boarder, who will actually be moving out to go to the police academy.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but this is obviously not going to work. Thank you for coming, and good luck finding something to suit your tastes.”

Mother: “What? We are guests here and are willing to pay good money for the room. Now, she will move in on [date]. And since you’ve upset us, we will not be paying the first two weeks’ rent or paying a bond.”

(I’m seeing red, so my husband steps in again.)

Husband: “Okay, that’s fine, but you are going to have to pay for a lift to be put in — as I can’t get up and down the stairs — a remodel of the bathroom to accommodate my wheelchair, and an extension to be built for my office, as I run my business from home. All up, I’d say $80,000 should cover it. If we get started tomorrow, it may be ready by [date].”

(The father, who has been silent the whole time, starts laughing while the mother is spluttering.)

Mother: “What?! No, she will be a guest in your home; you need to cater to what we want.”

Husband: “Ma’am, I think it’s time for you to leave.” *to the daughter* “Miss, good luck with university, and I hope you find suitable accommodation.”

(The mother grabs the daughter’s hand and drags her out, yelling that they’re guests and  that we should cater to what she wants, and leaving the father behind.)

Father: “I’m so sorry about her. Things like that are the reason we split up. I’m only here because of my daughter. Thank you for your time, and I sincerely apologize for my ex-wife’s behavior.”

(We did end up getting a student in, and it worked out brilliantly. The father, who was a CEO of a big company, even ended up hiring my husband to build and maintain the company’s new website. The young woman ended up finding accommodation in a flat with other students, and in the end, cut all ties with her psychotic mother.)