I was on vacation in the US with my family a few years ago. We drove far to get to an expensive restaurant, Well known for great meat. Being from Europe we were unfamiliar with the laws of drinking, and as I was of legal drinking age at home we asked the waiter for a single glass of wine. Unable to present identification when he asked, we thanked him and went on with ordering our meal. Today I feel like this made them label us as problem costumers.
My younger brother and I ordered the same meal, with a medium rare steak.
When our meals came my brothers steak was perfect, in my taste, a little red for him, but he happily ate it. However, mine was dry and somewhere between medium and well done.
I asked for another one, but was told that this was what their medium rare looked like. My family looked at my brothers perfect steak and asked for another one.
However, what I received was bleu. For those who don’t know the term, this means that my steak was raw and cold in the middle. I like my steak rare, but this was too much even for me. My family didn’t like making a fuzz about it, and just left it as it was, but it was really both worth the drive nor the money for us.

My friend and I are diferente in some ways. She has *substantial* savings, lives in a cheaper neighborhood, and eats fast food. I have modest savings, chose an apt about 20-25 minutes away from hers (walking), and buy organic food.

Her rent is about $300 less than mine, and she used to tease me about that. “My savings are growing, and you’re spending all that money on rent!” Well my apartment has a washer/dryer in it (hers doesn’t), my apt complex has a pool, a fitness center, and a huge clubhouse. Her apartment has none of this, plus her neighbors are VERY LOUD. Parties until 2AM, that sort of thing.

Well I stayed with her for 2 weeks while my new apartment was getting ready (and paid her $50). I slept on the couch and NEVER COMPLAINED. It’s all part of the adventure! And yes there were several loud parties nearby that went past 2AM.

My apartment is much safer than hers, that’s mainly why I pay the extra $300/month.

Well a mutual friend let it slip that “cheaper apt” friend was robbed! Someone broke into her apt!!

Oddly enough, “cheaper apt” friend has never mentioned this to me. For a while there I got the impression that she was expecting me to ask to borrow money (you know how cheap-people seem to mock any sort of luxury?)

Well I never have asked her for money and my apartment is safe and quiet.

For my 29th birthday this year, my fiance and I went down to the local casino on March 6th. Covid-19 had not yet become the pandemic it is now. Nine days after visiting the casino, Sunday the 15th, I feel a little warmer than usual and take my temperature. 100 Degress Fahrenheit; because of the warnings now, I contact my boss and work from home.

Over the next two days, I develop a cough. By the 17th, I am officially quarantined by my doctor for two weeks. I am too low-risk by current standards to be tested for Covid-19.
As the days progress, my cough gets worse and I start to experience fatigue. Not any aches or overall pain, but I’m tired all the time. I end up taking half days, even working at home, and sleeping for most of the day to try to feel better.

The night of March 24th, a week after being quarantined, I wake up in the middle of the night because it hurt to breathe. By now, I still had a low-grade fever, a deeper cough, and every breath taken just hurt. I call my doctor’s emergency line at 3am, begging to be tested.
The PA I spoke to has me run through all my symptoms and the overall timeline. She and I both agree I’m not bad enough that I need to be hospitalized, but this is the line that got me:

“You have all the classic symptoms, but you’re too low-risk to be tested.”

I stay on the phone and eventually convince her that I’m getting worse, not better and that I need to be tested to know what is going on with me. Because if it’s not Covid-19, then hopefully it’s something that can be treated.

I’m tested on the 26th, and by the 27th, I’m told by my doctor that the result for Covid-19 was negative. They determine I have a bacterial lung infection and prescribe me [medication], a low grade antibiotic I normally get for ear infections.

The first two or three days of being on [medication] were great. My fever and cough persisted, but the pain from breathing subsided just a little. I’m still extremely fatigued, even more so now. I’m working half days from home, or none at all and sleeping for more than 12 hours a day.

Thursday, April 2nd, a day before [medication] runs out, I call my doctor’s office around noon. I speak with a nurse and let her know that I haven’t gotten any better and that I want to speak with a doctor about either extending [medication] or getting something stronger.
I’m told that they will pass the message and for now I should rest and keep up my fluid intake (as if I hadn’t been already).
At 1pm, I get a call from the PA, whom I have to explain everything to for the second time, and she advises rest and fluids and that she’ll talk to the doctor.
By 1:30, I miss a call from them. I call back immediately, no answer.

For the next 4 hours, I call every half hour until someone finally picks up. It’s a nurse, and I have to explain my symptoms and the whole timeline for the third time. She advises me to take fluids and rest.
By this point, I’m tired and I’m not getting any better and [medication] is about to run out. I demand to speak with a doctor, not a nurse or a PA, because I am only getting worse. She promises to move my message along.

By 4:45pm, 15 minutes before they close for the weekend, the PA I spoke with at 3am a week or so ago, calls. I run her through my symptoms and timeline for the fourth time. She tells me to take fluids and rest, and — incredibly frustrated — I snap and tell her that’s all I’ve been doing and that I’m not getting any better.
She eventually agrees to prescribe me [stronger medication] and [inhaler] to help and schedules a video appointment for Monday to check my progress.

By Monday, I’m almost 100%. I’m still coughing, and still tired, but overall I just feel better. The PA tells me that based on my symptoms and my response to [stronger medication], I probably had Walking Pneumonia.

It’s now May. I still have a cough in the morning and at night, and when it gets super humid or hot. I still get tired doing routine, daily things but I am improving. I’m told that because the pneumonia had so long to set in without being properly medicated, it’s going to take a while for me to bounce back.

I was fortunate that I didn’t have Covid-19. I’m fortunate I was able to get medication. Please wash your hands. Please wear a mask when you go out; this is not a joke!

I work for a summer program that pairs employees up, then requires us to move to an assigned small, rural community together where housing is provided. At this time, my partner and I have known each other for about two months.
We are headed back out to our assigned community and stop at a Chinese restaurant in a tiny rural town. A delightful, loud, small old woman, who I presume to be the owner, comes out to chat with us while we are waiting for our food.)
Owner: *to me* Where you from?
Me: I’m from this area, but he’s from near Toronto.
Owner: Is he your boyfriend?
My partner nearly chokes on his drink.
Me: No. We just work together.
Owner: Why not? He cute.
Me: Well, he has a girlfriend. She’s just not me.
Owner: *to my partner, loudly* Why not?! She nice girl!
Partner: I… yeah, I guess she is. But I have a girlfriend back in Ontario.
Owner: Ontario, so far away. I get your food.
She walks away, shaking her head and tsk tsk-ing. When she brings it to us, she chats with him about her friends in Ontario.
Funny thing, we both came back the next summer and did end up dating, as he had since broken up with his girlfriend in Ontario. Unfortunately, we didn’t get a chance to go back to that restaurant.

I was working at a grocery store. One day while I was doing my usual bagging duties, a little boy stared at me. I didn’t know why he stared at me, nor did I really care. Then he pointed at me.

Little Boy: Momma!

Father: No, that’s not your momma. She looks like your momma, though, doesn’t she?