After my parents got married, in the late seventies, they decided they wanted to get a puppy together. My mom had several dogs growing up. My dad didn’t but really wanted a dog and had read every book on dogs and taking care of them he could get his hands on. They found a reputable breeder — yes, I know, “Adopt, don’t shop,” but that wasn’t really a thing yet back then — and got everything prepared.

When the puppies were eight weeks old, my parents went to pick up the one of their choice. While my dad sorted out paperwork and payment and such, my mom played with the puppies and chatted with the breeder’s children. One of them asked her a question.

Kid: “What are you going to name him?”

Mom: “We’re naming him [Puppy]. Do you have a name for him?”

Kid: “We call him Wolfie.”

Mom: “Really? Wolfie?”

Kid: “Yep!”

Mom was a bit surprised. The puppy was a fluffy little brown and white thing with floppy ears that didn’t resemble a wolf in the slightest; he was a spaniel-type breed. She wanted to ask the kid why they called him Wolfie, but they were distracted by something, and then my dad announced it was time to go, so she never found out. She did relay the story to my dad on the way home, and he was surprised by the name, as well. But you never know why kids might name an animal something, so they put it out of their minds.

That night, after an exhausting day of exploring his new home, backyard, and neighborhood, the puppy curled up contentedly in the little nest my parents had prepared for him, complete with a hot water bottle, and went to sleep. My parents went to bed, hoping he’d sleep through the night but prepared to deal with nightly whining.

What they were very much NOT prepared for was to be awoken in the middle of the night by ear-splitting howling. They’d never heard a wolf howl, but this was pretty much how they’d imagined it sounding except higher in pitch. My parents rushed downstairs to find the puppy sitting upright in his nest and howling his lungs out at the moon, which shone through a crack in the curtains. They watched the howling puppy for a moment, too dumbfounded to respond, before my dad picked him up and gently shushed him.

Dad: “Well, I guess now we know why those kids called him Wolfie.”

They called up the breeder the next day, and he confirmed that, yes, “Wolfie” had the odd habit of sometimes howling at the moon, but it was harmless and he’d probably grow out of it as he grew older. Still, he advised closing the curtains, since he only did it when he could actually see the moon. My parents looked at each other, shrugged, and basically decided, “Well, we wanted a dog, and we can live with this.” Curtains were closed from that point on.

I’m happy to say that “Wolfie” lived a long and happy life with my family full of long walks, bike rides, hunting trips with my dad, and camping holidays in several countries, as well as all the ear-scratches and belly rubs he wanted, but he never completely grew out of his habit of howling at the moon. When he got two “brothers”, my parents were worried they’d pick up this habit as well, but they didn’t. They were even more worried when they brought home a hairless, two-legged “sister” for Wolfie — me. Though I learned to bark before I could talk and accidentally ate dog food on several occasions, I was much too sound of a sleeper to pick up howling at the moon, much to my parents’ relief.

When I was in High School, I was mostly ignored by my classmates. I was also not that great in math and did every assignment and math problem, hoping to understand the concept.

When I am in my graduation year (2000’s), there are two types of exams: the one big national exam at the end of the year and three ‘smaller’ exams the teachers create themselves. I practice hard but the first two don’t go… that great. So, I double-study time for the last test.

I am doing one of the mock exams the teacher offers. I know I am the only one doing it, the teacher even mentioned it. He doesn’t give up on me and explains what I did wrong. I think I understand the concept!

During a study break, most students just chat, but three boys have the math books in their hands. They are the smart boys; they understand everything first try!

Boy #1: “I just don’t get it.”

Boy #2: “What are we doing wrong?”

Boy #3: “Let’s ask [My Name].”

I look up, surprised. They’re noticing me? Why? What is the catch? They can’t be serious!

Boy #1: “Hey, [My Name], you did the mock exam, right? Did you face this problem?”

Me: “Oh, yes! I did! The teacher explained it to me… Do you want me to explain it?”

Boy #2: “Yes please!”

They weren’t kidding, they did ask for my help! And when we have the teacher-made exam:

Me: *In my head.* “Okay, three problems, I have an hour… let’s go! Oh, this first problem looks like the mock exam. Yes, I know this! Huh, it even has the same result. Did I really do this right? Okay, I’ll check back later, problem two… this is the same as on the mock exam. The names are different, but this is the same… And the result is the same as well. This can’t be right! And problem three… oh, I’m messing this up! I’m getting the exact same answers as the mock exam! This can’t be right! I’m going to fail!”

Can you imagine my face when I got back a 100% on the test score? I was the only one in my class to get that grade. The three boys who asked for my help did pass and thanked me for my help.

I still wonder why the teacher used the mock exam as an official exam, only changing names and stories. He must have known I had practiced it, right? In the end, this 100%-grade boosted my average so much that I had enough points to pass my final math exam.

This interaction is mostly through email (and paraphrased).

Client: “I want to talk to someone.”

Me: “Of course. Please let us know what this is about, so I can redirect your email if needed.”

Client: “I want to talk to someone. It’s about my home.”

Me: “I understand, but what is the matter?”

Client: “That is private. Please redirect my mail to someone who can call me.”

Me: “I’d love to, but I need to get the gist of what this is about so I can ask the right person to call you.”

Client: “I want someone to call me.”

Me: “If you want to speak to someone live, you can call our customer service. If you want someone to call you, please tell us what it is about.”

Client: “You are invading my privacy!”

Me: “I understand that it’s an inconvenience to explain things, but we have over 600 people working here, from technicians to administrators. If you want me to redirect your email to the right department, I have to know more.”

Client: “Fine! My water tap is leaking.”

Me: “Oh, that is indeed an inconvenience. Luckily, I can help you with that. We can make an appointment with a plumber for you.”

Client: “I don’t want an appointment with a plumber. I want someone to call me!”

I decide I’ve had enough of it, leave my station, and pick one with a phone. I call the client.

Client: “Ugh, finally! That person in the email was so rude — not helpful at all! Anyway, now that you’re calling, my neighbour is parking outside the lines on the parking lot.”

Me: “I thought your email mentioned a leaking tap?”

Client: “I just said that because that annoying person kept on asking. Now, what will you do about my neighbour’s parking?”

It was a public parking place, so we did nothing. She did not like that.

When I just started dating my now-wife, I quickly noticed she didn’t like being in dark alleys, parks, etc. She was skittish whenever we walked outside during the night, so I asked if something had happened.

She told me that when she was eight (in the early nineties), she went to a weekend camp. It was located in the forest, and she had a lot of fun… until the evening. She was in a group of six to eight girls, all around her age, and together with three camp leaders, they would do an evening walk. After walking for about thirty minutes:

Camp Leader #1: “Oops, this is where the track ends! But I think there might be still markings around here, so maybe we can find our way back!”

The girls quickly found the clues and followed the path, but somewhere around the route… they lost the clues and accidentally started following similar signs. Should the Camp Leaders have noticed? 

Trust me, my wife still curses them for this.

Suddenly, everyone heard music – that must be the camp! Everyone hurries to the light… and ends up at a place with a radio and coffins. What was going on? The Camp Leaders don’t know either… and suddenly someone jumps from a coffin! The girls scream; it’s a vampire!

Turns out the group accidentally followed the tracks for the older teens – a more horror-creepy-track. The vampire was awfully nice and kind, giving directions about where they should go. My wife made clear this vampire had nothing to do with her fear.

No… it was the Camp Leaders. Imagine a group of eight-year-old girls, tired and scared because they are lost, no cell phones, and just had a vampire jump from a coffin… And then the Camp Leaders decide to say this:

Camp Leader #1: “Oh no, we are so lost! What if we never get home again?”

Camp Leader #2: “What if there are wolves or bears, they will eat you!”

Camp Leader #3: “Do you see that man over there? I think I saw him carrying a knife! What if he spots you? He will murder you all!”

Wife: *At eight years old.* “Where is [Camp Leader #1]?”

Camp Leader #2: “Oh, don’t worry, he’s just checking if that way is the way to the camp. Just wait a bit.”

At that moment, [Camp Leader #1] jumps from the bushes, with his beanie pulled over his head. He screams ‘Raaawr!’ and the likes and of course, the group of girls start to scream.

When they finally get back to camp, the girls are sent to bed straight away, because it is so late. The other Camp Leaders do not ask the girls what happened, just the other Camp Leaders and they just said they got lost a little bit.

So, of course, the girls all told their parents. Most parents didn’t believe them. My wife’s parents did believe her but thought she was overreacting. They were with the Camp Leaders, so they were safe, right?

About fifteen years later, my wife (with her parents) coincidentally came across one of the other girls in the group. They talked about that dreaded night and only then the parents believed their daughter. Especially when that other girl told her that ALL the girls in the group (she stayed in touch with some) were now afraid of the dark, dark alleys and dark forests.

Were mistakes made? Should all the adults have handled this differently? Absolutely. But nothing can be done about this anymore (perhaps therapy), because the camp no longer exists and technically no law was broken. I’m just very glad my wife says she trusts me and is less scared in the dark when she’s with me. But I will never scare-prank her, or anyone else.

I’ve seen the results of a scare prank. Please, just don’t do it.

I’m having my lunch break, and I decide to watch a YouTube video. To not bother anyone else, I use the headset that’s connected to my work laptop. (We may use our laptops for personal use, as well.) The laptop is also used to patch through calls, but I’ve put the setting on “lunch break”. If someone wants to call me through the system, they can see that it says “lunch break”. My “public” schedule also says “lunch break”.

Suddenly, I get a call patched through. This has never happened before, and since it’s an automatic system, I get it thrown into my lap and I can’t decline it.

Me: “Eh… hello? This is [My Name]?”

Coworker: “Ah, [My Name], I have a client who wants to change their appointment. It’s [address] and—”

Me: “Whoa, whoa, one moment. You’re going way too fast. I’m sorry, but I’m on my lunch break and I’m not logged in.”

I quickly log in to look for someone who can help my coworker.

Coworker: *A bit grumpily* “Then why did you pick up?”

Me: “I didn’t. I was watching a video and the system connected us automatically. But I was set on ‘lunch break’, so…”

Coworker: “Well, I don’t know anything about that! I was told to call someone from [department].”

You can only see our numbers if you look into our call system. You see the name, a little dot that shows availability (yellow for inactive), and the availability/status: available, do not disturb, lunch, etc.

So, she first looked up our department (which has our public schedule connected to it), found my name (with my schedule), and called me, ignoring both the blocked, clearly labeled “lunch break” status and the yellow dot indicating that I was inactive. 

Me: “Eh, well, I see that [Coworker #2] is still available. You could try her or maybe send a chat message to check if she is available.”

Coworker: “Fine, fine, goodbye.”

She sounds grumpy, but she’s new and maybe the client has been unpleasant. I decide to just let it go. And, just in case, I decide to watch the video on my phone, closing my laptop. 

When I log in after the break, I find this email.

Coworker: “I don’t know who you think you are, but you were very rude to me. I was told I need to call [department] with rescheduling and that’s what I did. I didn’t know you were watching a video. How was I supposed to know you were on your lunch break? You shouldn’t have picked up the phone if you were on break.”

I forwarded the email to my manager. They talked to [Coworker] and told her that “lunch break” in both the schedule and in the call system means someone is having their lunch break.

I heard from other coworkers that [Coworker] complained that she now has to go “on an investigation” to find out if someone is “kind enough” to do their job. Since it was only hearsay, the manager couldn’t do anything about that, but he did promise to keep an eye and an ear open. 

[Coworker] is still working with us, but she hasn’t called me ever again.