I am an at-home caregiver for two family members of poor health who haven’t been out of the house all year due to the health crisis. As such, I make sure I am as vigilant as possible when I need to go out for shopping or errands with a mask, hand sanitizer, and the works. Also, due to the cold weather, I am covered nearly head to toe with only my hands and eyes showing.

I am mailing packages to family members with their presents and cards because I told them there was NO way we are entertaining this year. Way too many kids and grandkids!

The borough’s post office is in an old, hundred-year-old brick building. When you walk in the large glass and wood doors, there’s a makeshift vestibule that you turn left or right to get into the lobby.

I don’t even make it through the first door, and there’s another man waiting there in line. Everyone’s got masks on, but even without stickers on the floor, everyone’s staying away from each other a few feet.

I set the boxes down as I’m waiting, but the line’s moving fairly quickly, so I take to just holding them as I wait. I am halfway through the line when the man behind me — way too close for my comfort — pipes up.

Customer: “You could probably set your packages down there while you wait.”

Me: “No, I’m good.”

Seriously, they are only about fifteen pounds and not oversized. A few seconds lapse.

Customer: “You could set them on that trash can there.”

He points to one a few feet in front of us.

Me: *Rather sternly* “They’re not heavy.”

I’m normally chatty and nice, but I’m in a hurry and have a bit of anxiety around people in general.

Once more, he pipes up.

Customer: “I only have to ask the lady one question.”

I don’t even bother responding. I assume he wants me to give up my place in line because he only had “one small question,” but hey, we’re all in a hurry. It’s the holidays, it’s cold out, and we’re in the middle of a health crisis.

I steadfastly keep my place in line, and what do you know, within a few seconds, I’m at the counter. My packages take only a minute or two to mail as they are all going priority. One swipe of a credit card, a receipt, and we’re good to go.

I leave and pause outside the door to tuck the receipt in my wallet, and the guy barrels past me. Sorry, dude. We all have to wait our turn!

It’s a lovely day and my husband and I decide to just go to the local state park and enjoy the day. While I can walk, I can’t go far, so for good distances, I use a wheelchair and have a legal placard to park in reserved handicap spaces.

We pull into a handicap spot and put up the placard, and I am waiting for my husband to get the wheelchair for me when an SUV pulls into the next spot beside us. I watch as the woman gets out and starts to walk away. Not seeing a placard, I ask my husband:

Me: “Can you see if there’s a handicap tag?”

Husband: “There isn’t.”

I call to her and she walks back.

Me: “Why are you parking in a handicap space without the required tag or card? It’s a $250 fine for doing so, and there are regular spaces not that much further back.”

She points to the Jesus fish on her trunk.

Woman: “That’s all the permission I need.” 

I reported it to the park office and the SUV was gone when we decided to leave. I hope she got a ticket for it. If she did, she probably tried to argue that her Jesus fish protected her and how dare they expect her to pay the fine.

I’m the author of this story. It’s been about a year since I last got a delivery from the driver that kept on mixing up 121 (the main property) with 127 (the rental property), and since then, every delivery from that company has been delivered by my regular driver, who never makes the same mistake.

On this particular day, I’m expecting an important package from that delivery company. I’m eating lunch when I hear a vehicle pull into the driveway of 121. I gander out the window and, lo and behold, it’s the problem driver. I’m initially glad that he at least got the address correct this time, but that quickly fades when I see him walking over to my fence instead of to the back of his van. He then unzips his pants and begins to relieve himself on the hedges! I quickly confront him.

Me: “Hey! What are you doing?”

Problem Driver: “I really had to go. You don’t mind, do you?”

Me: “Yes, I do! You can’t just pee on my hedges without asking!”

Problem Driver: “Look. A guy’s gotta go, a guy’s gotta go. I couldn’t hold it no more. Now, you want your package or no?”

I don’t want to start any drama, so I nod. He opens the back of his van. My package, which is supposed to be fairly large, is nowhere in sight inside the vastly disorganized van.

Problem Driver: “It’s gotta be buried in here somewhere.”

Me: *Annoyed* “How far back do you think it is?”

Problem Driver: “Look, I don’t have time to check. I have other deliveries to make; can I please leave? I definitely have your package, and I’ll be back with it when I get some of these other deliveries out of the way.”

Not wanting to delay him any longer, I let him leave. I’m still fuming at the fact that he peed on my hedges without even so much as asking. Three hours later, my package finally did arrive… in my regular driver’s van. I was now even more livid, since the problem driver not only used my hedges as a makeshift urinal, but he outright lied to me that he had my package when he really did not.

I immediately filed a complaint with the company, detailing everything that happened. I was not expecting it to go very far, since the company essentially let him off the hook the last time I complained about him for mixing up my addresses. However, the next morning I got a call back from the company, and the representative on the other end profusely apologized for the incident and informed me that the problem driver had been dismissed from the company. From what she told me, it wasn’t that driver’s first complaint for lying to customers, nor was it his first complaint for relieving himself on customers’ property without permission. The driver’s van was parked in such a way that his dashcam was just barely able to catch him in the act of doing his “business” on my hedges, giving the company more than enough reason to fire him.

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My store used to carry a brand of glass milk bottles. If you returned the bottle, you got a $2 refund. Unfortunately, this company went out of business. We have put up signs on the milk cooler saying something along the lines of, “We apologize for the inconvenience, but [Company] has ceased operations. We are looking for a new glass milk bottle replacement.” We quickly run out of what few glass milk bottles remain. That doesn’t stop me from having some form of this conversation for the next several weeks.

Customer: “Where is the glass milk?”

Me: “Oh, they went out of business.”

Customer: “They went out of business?”

Me: “Yes.”

Customer: “So you have no glass milk?”

Me: “No, we do not.”

Customer: “When will you have more?

Me: “We won’t. They’ve gone out of business. [Store] is looking for a new glass milk bottle, but we haven’t found one yet.”

Customer: “How do you know?”

Me: “That’s what the sign says.”

Customer: “What sign?”

Me: “That sign.”

I point at one of the signs, which is directly over the empty hole where the glass milk was. Customers have to move their bodies in order to see around the signs.

Customer: “Oh, I didn’t see the sign.”

Why can’t people use their eyes?

This takes place during the romaine lettuce recall that affected the entire country. When we receive our shipments of lettuce during this time, customers snatch up the lettuce faster than we can stock it. I have this conversation about once a day for the entire recall.

Customer: “Where is all the lettuce?”

Me: “That’s all we have, because of the romaine recall.”

Customer: “But only romaine is not being sold. All the other lettuce is fine. Where is it?”

Me: “That’s all we have. There’s a shortage of the other types of lettuce because of the recall.”

Customer: “No, there’s not!”

Me: “Yes, there is. Romaine is one of the most popular lettuces out there. That’s why a good two-thirds of our bagged salads are no longer being sold. What’s left has to be shared with every store and every restaurant in the country. There’s not enough supply to meet the demand. Everyone has to share what lettuce is left.”

The customer grumbles and walks over to the iceberg lettuce and reads the sign.

Customer: “There’s a limit?”

Me: “Yes. You can only buy two heads of iceberg lettuce right now.”

Customer: “Why?”

Me: “It’s to prevent people from taking all of the lettuce before other customers have had the chance to buy some.”

This is one of the reasons why I believe everyone should have to take Economics 101 every ten years or so. Supply and demand is not that hard a concept.

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