This happened about 8 or 9 years ago when I took driver’s ed. When they teach you on the road you start each lesson by dropping off the student from the previous lesson home.

One day, I get in the car and drive the other miserable teenager to their house, which is through several residential backstreets. I back out of their driveway and the instructor tells me the speed limit is 15MPH. As I drag along the street, hoping that no one who lives in this area needs to leave it any time soon, a squirrel runs in front of the car. I don’t have to break hard to stop, so I stop and wait for the squirrel to decide which side of the street it wants to be on. I check my mirrors and I’m clear, so I’m not worried about anyone behind me.

For the driving instructor, this was apparently the wrong move. He said if someone was behind me they could have hit me. I said it would be up to the hypothetical car behind me to be driving at a safe distance and brake in time and I would NOT be hitting a squirrel! By the time we were done arguing the squirrel had run off and the lesson moved on.

That day he told me parents that I refused to listen to his instructions and had an issue with authority. Luckily my parents thought it was hilarious he was making a big deal over a squirrel and said I did the right thing. They still occasionally tease me about it, though.

This story happened years ago when I was young. ThunderCats was one of the biggest shows on tv for kids. As such, me and my cousins were VERY into it. I go to visit my cousins one day and the oldest is showing off his new toy, a toy Sword of Omens. We were all envious of it, but we would never steal from each other or break each other’s stuff.

The adults weren’t nearby, so they couldn’t hear us as we played. This was when I started to wonder if me and my cousins were really related because of what he does and says. He starts doing the warcry and poses except…

Older Cousin: “ThunderC*nts, ThunderC*nts, ThunderC*nts, Ho!”

When I was born, my parents created an account at a credit union near our home that had my mother and me on it. This account was set up with me as the owner and my mother as the trustee.

As I was an infant when the bank was created, I didn’t have a signature on file with the bank, and couldn’t until I turned 16. Shortly after my 16th birthday, my mom brought me in and we got my signature on file, or so we thought.

My dad would often ask me to pull money from the account, because he didn’t have access, but every time I went in, they had no record of the signature card I had signed.

On four separate occasions, I signed a new signature card and by the time I had signed it a fourth time, the teller at the bank recognized who I was and, even though there was still no signature on file, would let me access my account. There was only one bank out of the 4-5 locations that I could go to to access this bank account, and only two tellers at the bank who I could work with because they could never save the signature correctly.

When I turned 18 I ended up closing the account, tired of having to deal with their incompetence and gladly took my business somewhere I didn’t have to fight to access my money.

Me: oh excuse me, can I please have you put on a face mask for me?
Client: why? No one else is here.
Me: im here. I count as someone. Please put on a mask.
And this woman ROLLED HER EYES

It breaks my heart that we’re still having this conversation in September of 2020

Boy: “Look! Candy store!”
Dad: “Nope! Keep walking!”
Boy: *soft, mournful squawk*