My family is on vacation in Florida from Pennsylvania. We are eating breakfast one morning at a nationwide diner chain.

Waitress: “How do you want your eggs?”

Sister: “Dippy.”

Waitress: “I’m sorry what?”

Sister: “Dippy.”

Waitress: “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what that is. Can you explain?”

Me: “Sorry, she wants them over-easy.”

The waitress leaves and my sister turns to me.

Sister: “How did she not know what I meant? I order them all the time at home, and they always know what I mean.”

Me: “That’s just a Pittsburgh term. Like how only Pittsburgh uses the word ‘jaggerbush’.”

Sister: “‘Jaggerbush’ isn’t used all over the US? I’m learning so many things about our accent today.”

Last year, my family all flew to Chicago to spend Christmas with my brother. Because my brother lived in a smaller apartment that wasn’t really made to accommodate four other adults for an extended period of time, my dad reserved a rental for the rest of us using a popular website/app where people can list rooms and houses they own.

The place was nice and everything, but it was right across the street from a couple of clubs. They were closed at Christmas but opened right back up. After we left, my dad left a review.

Dad’s Review: “Decent place, not quite downtown, but easy access to various tourist areas. The stairs were a little steep, so be aware. The biggest issue was the clubs right across the street. The unit is probably best for people who are trying to have a guys’ or girls’ weekend but probably not ideal if you’re a family with young kids who are trying to sleep because of the lights of the clubs and the noise.”

That was it. He only pointed out that if someone had young kids, having them stay right across from the clubs might not be conducive.

Apparently, the owner of the rental wasn’t happy with the review. He started messaging my dad and demanding that he update his review. My dad wouldn’t because there wasn’t anything wrong with the review. The owner then started blasting my dad and complaining to the rental company about it. They reached out to my dad.

Company: “We’ve received a report that some items were missing from [Location] after your stay.”

Dad: “And?”

Company: “The owner is claiming you took them. So, you need to cover the replacement costs.”

Dad: “Can we get a breakdown of what was taken?”

The list of items taken? A carbon monoxide detector. That was it. 

My dad got into a fight with [Rental Company], one, because he had specifically purchased the extra coverage/insurance for just such a possibility — not that we go around taking random detectors but just in case something happened —  and two, because we didn’t steal the detector.

They finally settled things, and my parents didn’t have to cover anything. But my dad was extremely frustrated, especially because when [Rental Company] reached out, it was the middle of January and the owner was claiming he’d found the detector missing sometime in the first week of January. We’d all left by about the 28th of December. So, he either didn’t rent out his unit or even visit it at all during that time, or he was just trying to be a pain because of my dad’s review.

It definitely made sure my dad wouldn’t use that location again.

My mom was a nanny for a very rich couple for their two children. My mom was pretty much the constant in their lives and would sometimes even watch them overnight and on weekends. It got to the point that she had to sit them down and remind them that she wasn’t their mother and they shouldn’t call her “Mom”.

When I was eleven or twelve, my family went on a vacation to an amusement park known as the “happiest place on earth”. This was planned well in advance, so the couple had plenty of time to get other sitters.

We were standing in one of the parks planning our next ride when I looked into the crowd and spotted a familiar face.

Me: “Mom, look! It’s [Kid #1] and [Kid #2]!”

Mom: “Don’t be silly! They’re back home in Pennsylvania… Oh, son of a b****.”

It turned out that I was right! The couple, distraught over losing my mom for a week, booked an emergency trip to the park and had planned to just leave the kids with my mom.

In all honesty, I’m shocked that we even stumbled across each other randomly because we could have been in one of the different parks.

My mom made sure to confront her boss over this stunt.

Mom: “Listen, we can hang out for a little bit, but I’m not watching your kids. I already am dealing with mine and don’t have the energy for two toddlers. Take this time to actually make some memories with your kids and bond with them.”

I was on holiday at an all-inclusive resort. On the first day, we couldn’t find any lounge chairs by the beach or by the sea. Fair enough; we arrived in the afternoon.

The next day, we went to find a spot… but most of the spots were “taken” by towels. We found an empty seat, and to our surprise, many of the chairs stayed “reserved” for almost the whole day or never got used.

On the third day, we decided to take some towels off of two loungers and enjoy our day. FOUR HOURS LATER, an older couple showed up.

Couple: “These are our seats! We left our towels here!”

They kicked us out of the chairs with help from an attendant.

That pissed me off, so every following day, I went and took the towels off of every unattended lounger after breakfast, and then I went to watch the chaos from my balcony.

Many, many people complained, and by the end of the week, there was a sign that unattended towels would be removed. Success!

I was in Ibiza, twelve days into a two-week break. I am a swarthy Englishman and my holiday had given me quite a decent tan. I usually get spoken to by indigenous people; however, like most Brits, I don’t speak any Spanish much beyond “Please,” “Thank you,” and “Four beers, please.”

One day, I was on the beach and two (old) Brits approached me and gestured toward the rentable pedal boats.

Man: “How much are the pedalos?”

This caused great amusement amongst my friends.

Me: *In English* “Sorry, I can’t speak English.”

He responded by asking several more times in an increasingly louder and more aggressive voice. He eventually asked:

Man: “Why be a vendor in a tourist area if you don’t speak f****** English?!”

Me: *In English* “Why are you being rude and not attempting to speak the local language?”

He eventually stomped off, muttering to his wife, not realising I spoke to him in English THE WHOLE TIME!

Twenty years on, my friends still sidle up to me and ask, “How much are the pedalos?”