Due to living overseas and having a history of health issues, when I returned to my home country at 19 I was 3 or 4 credits short of graduating high school. I called a local highschool in the new town I was in.

Me: Hi, I’m looking to enroll for just one semester. I need (list of credits) to graduate, but that’s it. Could I do that all in one semester?

Secretary: Hmm, it looks like we don’t offer (Class A) and (Class B) in the same semester…

Me: Oh darn, but I guess I can stick it out.

Secretary: Why are you missing classes? Didn’t your old high school offer them?

Me: Well, I did online schooling and moved a lot, so I’m 19 now and certain online classes won’t really work-

Secretary: You’re 19?! You can’t go to a HIGHSCHOOL!

Me: …What?

Secretary: You’re an adult! You can’t go to a school with CHILDREN!

Me: …Excuse me? So four months ago when I was 18 I would be fine to attend?

Secretary: We can’t help you here. You need to find a school for ADULTS.

I ended up having to take classes at an Adult & Continuing school that only did lower-level courses, meaning I didn’t have the credits I needed for University. Still don’t know what that secretary was thinking- have they never had a student be held back or start school late?

(I worked in a large grocery store. A call went out over the radio.)

Coworker: Do we have any non-frozen bread?

(Dead silence for about a minute, as I’m sure everyone was thinking about the two aisles of bread.)

Manager: …is there a specific kind you need or..?

Coworker: Sorry, let me try that again. Do we have any frozen NAAN bread?

(Giggles throughout the store. Yes, we had some.)

The story posted at https://notalwaysright.com/and-thats-how-the-entitlement-cookie-crumbles-part-3/371223/ reminded me of something that happened to us both a long time ago and recently.

Back in 2005 my friend and I went to a grocery store very near our house. Now, in those days he was a bit of a little criminal, he would steal candy and small things from the grocery store and the pharmacy next to it and while I did eventually grow tired of his antics and informed store security at both locations this was a couple of years prior.

Anyway, we had gone into the store for a legitimate reason that day, my mom had sent me up to the store for some missing bits for dinner and we had encountered each other on the sidewalk going up the hill to the store. Upon arriving he insisted on getting a cookie from the in store bakery but the employee was busy on the phone taking what I assume to have been a cake order.

We waited around for a while before I walked away to get the vegetables I needed. As I was coming back with my bag of vegetables I saw him being led out of the store by a young woman in a staff uniform. I paused at the counter and looked up at the bakery guy.

Me: What uhh. . .what did he do this time?

Worker: Hmm? Oh, hi, (my name). He couldn’t wait for me to get off the phone so he came and grabbed a bunch of cookies with his bare hands.

Me: Ahh

Worker: You need to stop hanging around with that kid (my name) he’s going to get you in trouble.

Me: He is. . .

At that point the female worker came back and glared at me

Worker 2: Are you with him!?

Worker: Nah, this is (my name) he’s cool, he’s a good kid.

Me: Hi

The female employee huffed loudly, clearly extraordinarily angry.

Worker 2: Charmed! Your friend? He’s not allowed to come to the bakery anymore. I can’t ban him from the store, but I’m going to try!

Me: I take it this involved more than cookies.

Worker 2: Oh YES! Extremely filthy sexual adv—

Worker: He is also 13!

Worker 2: Ahhh– uhh. . .he said some rather. . .inappropriate things to say to ANY female, not to mention one you don’t know.

Worker: That’s 10 years older.

Worker 2: Anyway he’s banned, keep him away from our counter.

Time passed, we stopped being friends and became friends again after he got himself straightened out. Recently I visited my hometown and we went up to the same store to get his nephew a birthday cake.

Arriving at the counter I flagged down the woman working in the back, she walked up with a smile but as she drew closer her eyes narrowed.

Worker 2: You’re banned.

Me: Oh ****

Friend: Oh ****

Worker 2: Get out, we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason.

Friend: But that was 20 years ago!

Worker 2: Yes, yes it was, and not once did you ever come in to apologize!

Friend: But. . .but I need a cake!

Me: That was the part where you were supposed to apologize for not apologizing and then apologize for the original thing.

Worker 2: He gets it.

Friend: Oh. . .

Me: That was the apart where you were supposed to apologize for not apologizing and then apologizing for the original thing. . . and then apologize for the original thing. It’s getting complex, you might just want to apologize.

Friend: But it was 20 YEARS ago!

The woman stared at me with a flat expression.

Friend: And you still look as beautiful as you did then!

Worker 2: I’m 39.

Friend: I’m 33! That’s not bad right!?

Me: I’m leaving.

I wandered away to look intently at apples for no reason. When I came back they were finalizing the cake order so I walked up.

Friend: So I’ll pick up the cake on Tuesday at 4.

Worker 2: Yes

Friend: And I’ll pick you up tonight at 7.

Me: Oh my g—

Worker 2: Yes. . .

Friend: Cool, see you then.

He wandered off and I slowly looked at the woman behind the counter who shrugged

Worker 2: When the brain cells are actually working properly he isn’t a bad guy.

Me: I should hope not, it took 12 years to get those brain cells working. Did he apologize?

Worker 2: He did.

Me: Very good.

Worker 2: Very good.

This was in January, they are still seeing each other as of submitting this post in April.

(I worked at a pet store in a mall for 6.5 years, and then a few months after leaving that job, I got a job at an adult store in the same mall. It was a smaller store, so it meant that there was often only one person on-shift. Also, before I started at the adult store, another woman worked there who was apparently my doppelganger. Multiple people who’d worked with her agreed that we were very similar in many ways, though I’ve never met this woman.)

(One evening, maybe six months into my tenure at the adult store, I was alone on-shift when a customer came in. We were chatting, and then he said…)

Customer: Did you sell me [adult products] a couple years ago?

Me: No, sir, that wasn’t me. (I am not very good with faces in general, but I definitely didn’t remember this guy.)

Customer: No, no, I know it was you! I recognize you.

Me: I’ve only worked here a few months, but there was another woman who looked a lot like me working here before.

Customer: No, it was definitely you!

(I couldn’t convince him that I knew my own employment history better than he did. Did I sell him something when I worked in the pet store? Maybe, but I sold stuff to A LOT of people during my time there. I worked there for another 4 years, and I am pretty sure I never saw him again.)

My MIL is probably ortorexic, she mostly only eats what she deems healthy enough: rye bread, salads, oils, garlic, salmon, spices, chocolate and cheese. She enjoys spicy food, and brags about it that there rarely is food spicy enough for her in our country.

I went to a pizza place with my kids and husband, and with my MIL and FIL.
My brother is working in this pizza place, and takes our order. My MIL orders an salad with sriracha sauce, but laments that it likely won’t satisfy her craving for spiciness. Now, my brother is a bit of a chili enthusiast. He says that he has some really hot chili sauce for himself and offers that to my MIL, but warns repeatedly, it is really, really hot. My MIL immediately accepts and gets all giddy.

When we get our food, I look in silent horror as she dumps all of the sauce on top of her salad and even mixes it in a little. I know my brother, apparently she doesn’t. And I know my MIL, warning her never works.

From the corner of my eye I spy her first eating her salad with a gusto, that lasted like 20 seconds. Then she looks all weird and stops eating, subtly coughing, wriggling in her seat and trying to fork salad pieces that are not drenched in the hot sauce. And she admits that it is quite hot. We try to get her to toss it and to get a new salad, but she refuses. She also hates wasting food.

When we are almost done, her salad is still mostly uneaten, despite her valiant efforts, and she goes to get some hot coffee. My brother sees this, and tries to warn her about it. She brushes off his warning and gulps the coffee, which burns her even worse. Now I can literally see her sweating and tears rolling from her eyes.

She has since calmed down and maybe takes warnings more seriously. We all laughed good naturedly about this.