I’m the author of Sometimes Winging It… Works.
Now, this story doesn’t really have anything to do with that one, other than me getting reminded of days past in my life.
Some years ago, I used to walk a neighbour’s dog, for free mind you; I wasn’t a teen in need of money, and I really loved this dog. She was a golden retriever, with the personality you think of when you think of a golden retriever; goofy, energetic, and loveable as frick.
It was summer, I was dressed in an over sized t-shirt and underpants, and I’d just gone out on the porch, where my dad and uncle sat.
Dad: Did [Dog] just walk by?
Me: What?
Dad: A dog walked by on the street.
Me: Was it [Dog]?
Dad: I don’t know, it looked like her.
Me: Was anyone with her?
Dad: No.
Me: Did she have a leash on?
Dad: I don’t think so.
Uncle: There was somethign long dragging behind her.
Now, the way my neighborhood looks like is ten houses along a street that ends in a dead end, but continues with a walking/cyclking path. But behind my side of the street, and behind my house, is the main route through my village, and lorries often come by, carrying tons of lumber. I got worried, and hurried out on my street, looking down the road. I could just make out a creamy white, dog-shaped form far down, head in the grass, and indeed, something long tied to it.
Me: [Dog]?!
The form whipped it’s head up, staring at me.
Me: [Dog]!
The form took a hesitant step forward, then antoher, and another. Ten steps in, I deem the form to be [Dog], and she recognizes me, because she’s booking it towards me. You know the happy dog jump-run? Her ears flopping in the wind, sundshine kissing her beautiful face, tail spinning like a rotor. I more or less catch her in a hug, and she’s just SO happy so see me, even though I walked her yesterday, I’m going to walk her this evening, and I’m going to walk her tomorrow.
The long thing around tied to her is the rope her owners tie her collar to when she’s outside, so she doesn’t wander off. But apparently, she’s walked off, with the rope. So I gather up the rope, and walk her back home, and knock on the door, and my neighbour opens.
Me: Hi, I found someone enjoying a bit of freedom.
Neighour: Did she get loose?
Me: Yeah, and she took the rope with her.
He takes the rope and laughs, while [Dog] walks in, not a care in the world, to enjoy some fresh and cool water.

For context: I am another customer in this situation. Diners are a huge part of New Jersey culture, and most people know how to conduct themselves accordingly. The offending customer is a middle aged regular who recently moved to NJ.

Customer (to waitress): I’ll take scrambled eggs and 2 slices of rye, untoasted. My friend will be hear in a minute. He wants the same. untoasted rye ya hear me? untoasted! You waitress always get it wrong, probably because you’re all high school dropouts

The waitress nods, used to rude customers, as the man continues to make inappropriate comments about her body and brag about the college he went to (the logo of which was on EVERYTHING he was wearing, down to his socks). He insists on his bread being untoasted multiple times, insulting her intelligence.

After she leaves (he yells at her as she is walking away) he calls his friend and complains about the waitress, while she is in earshot. He makes multiple sexist comments, then complains about “Jersey culture”, offending everyone else in the Diner as he mocks our accents and brings up multiple stereotypes. Other customers attempted to get him to shut up, but he ignored them.

When his friend arrived they catcalled the waitress multiple times, as she brings them their food. Of course, she got it right, as the customer asked her to repeat it multiple times, write it down, then show it to him.

Customer: Well, you’re not as dumb as I thought you were. Good job. I’ll be sure to leave you a little something extra!

He didn’t leave her the tip he promised, and he and his friend left without cleaning up. Only after they were gone did I notice that they had brought newspapers to sit on, which they had left.

(When I was about 5-6 years old, I was at a school that apparently decided I was a worthless, lying piece of trash. At this school, they had a thing where you could get a coupon for a cookie at lunch. Now I couldn’t eat them, due to my health conditions; but one of my best friends had the same birthdate as me. I decided to get one so my friend could have two.)

5-6 yr old me: *chipper* Hey, today’s my birthday! could I have the cookie voucher?

Principle: No, because it’s not your birthday!

5-6 yr old me: Yes it is!!!!!

Principle: No it isn’t, I don’t appreciate lying.

5-6 yr old me: You can check on the computer-thingy, it IS my b-day!

Principle: *ignores last comment* It is not your birthday young lady, please refrain from lying just to get a cookie.

5-6 yr old me: YES IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

<continues to argue back and forth>

5-6 yr old me: *gives up* UGGGHHHHH! *kicks him*

Principle: That’s it young lady! You are being suspended!

<We walk past wall were we put up everyone’s birthdates>

Principle: So, you were right. But if you had tried to talk it out, instead of resorting to violence; you could have gotten your cookie!

5-6 yr old me: * internally: SHUT THE EVERLOVING F*CK UP!* …

<mom’s called, boring adult stuff>

Mom: So, why DID you even WANT the coupon? You can’t have the cookie.

5-6 yr old me: It wan’t FOR me, it was for my friend …, who has the same birthday as me! I thought it would be a nice thing for her…

Mom: *that makes sense* *so sweet* SIGH, well you shouldn’t of kicked him, but HE was the one who was acting irrational and childish. Honestly! Arguing with a little kid! *continues ranting, calling him many elaborate things*

5-6 yr old me: Am I in trouble?

Mom: No, dear.

My sisters and I were playing an online survival game where you build a raft and survive by collecting drifting salvage, scavenging wreckage and ruins for supplies, or diving underwater to collect materials. To add to the tension of keeping your character alive, your raft is constantly harassed by a massive great white shark that, if you manage to kill it, will respawn after three minutes. We quickly determine the best strategy is to kill the shark right next to an island, and then dive for all the underwater goodies we can find before exploring the island itself.

However, as we start the game, the elder of my two sisters, Sister 1, was having issues with her audio on our chat server, and so posted to the chat what she was trying to say. This, of course, sent a ping that there was an update to everyone in the server, which included my brother.

Brother: “Hey guys. Are you playing a round of [mystery game] with me?”

Sister 2: *laughs* “No, we’re playing [survival game]. Do you have a copy?”

At this point, my character is underwater playing chicken with the shark, while my sisters are crafting supplies on the raft, and I finally managed to beat the shark.

Me: “BRUCE IS DEAD! BRUCE IS DEAD! GO GO GO GO GO!!”

Sister 1: “Quick! We need the scrap!”

Brother: *freaking out* “What the **** is going on?!”

Me: *suddenly realizes the issue* “Oh! Dude, Bruce is the name of the shark in the game! Not our dad!”

Sister 2: “Seriously, [Brother], we are not planning on murdering dad!”

We all burst out laughing as my brother sheepishly admitted he was briefly concerned for our dad’s safety. Don’t worry; he won’t live this down for a while yet!

My coworker has a weird outlook on life, he seems to act like everyone’s issues are minor and so simple.
I find it really grating , not only is it condescending but as he butt’s in before anyone else can answer , it stops people getting actual support.

One morning I arrive at the office clearly tired, my boss chats to me and asks why.

Me: oh nothing really, my youngest had a bad dream and got into bed with us.

Coworker: (butting in) simple, just don’t let her. Tell her to get back to bed.

Me: well I am not going to do that am it? She’s four and was really upset

Coworker: well if you want to get a decent night sleep.

Me: sure, whatever. (I look at my boss, we exchange glances. I roll my eyes)

Coworker: what?! That is exactly what I would do, instead of complaining about things all the time.

Me: (I wasn’t even complaining, besides i’d rather have a rubbish night sleep then have my child crying all night to herself.) You don’t have kids, so thanks but no thanks for your advice.

On reflection it was pretty harsh, but he did at least stop trying to give me ‘advice’ on how to run my life after that.