I’m at a bar trying to pay for some drinks. The machine isn’t taking my card, I ask if there’s another machine but the bartender insists there’s nothing wrong with the card machine and it must be my card. Fine, I try again with another card unsurprisingly the broken machine won’t take that either. I can see there’s another card machine another bar tender is using but the bartender serving me refuses to use that instead. I would happily leave but the group I am with is set on staying at this bar so I go out find a cash machine, check both cards (which as I expected both work fine and have plenty of balance available) get some cash out, go back and pay for the drinks. I tell the guy that I had no problem getting cash out and I really think his card machine isn’t working possibly but he just looks at me rudely and shakes his head.

I didn’t get anymore drinks that night or ever go back to that bar I was so embarrassed and irritated by that barman.

My sister sends her 8 and 6 year old daughters in their room to clean it. A while later the 6 year old comes out with a big red mark on the side of her face.

My sister asks the 8 year old what happened and was told she fell.

Upon asking the 6 year what happened she gets this response, “You can’t get mad. We were having a shoe fight.”

The little weirdos decided that throwing shoes at each other was more fun than cleaning. At least they were playing together I guess.

I arrive at the checkout of my local Grocery Store with three smaller items. The chasier is a very nice teenage girl, whom I believe is new.

Chasier: *checks my items* Would you like a bag with that?

Me: Naw, I’ll just carry them and save a sea turtle or whatever…

Cashier: *polietly chuckles at my lame joke* Okay, your turtle is [price]

I practically bit my tongue off trying not to laugh at her slip up. She did an excellent job of acting like nothing happened, to the point that I wonder if she didn’t notice. I definitely heard it clear as day.

As soon as I got back to the car I burst into laughter and told my nine year old what happened. She now insists we go through “Turtle Girl’s” line.

Keep doing your thing, Turtle Girl. And thanks for the laugh!

(I’m in a three-way video call with some theatre friends, talking about past productions. Friend #1 graduating, so she’s coming clean about a few stories that are legendary in our theatre. Our theatre group always makes a cast video of all the dumb things the actors and directors do and say during rehearsals that is shown after the final performance. In the most recent cast video, I contributed some footage and an . . . unusual photo.)

Me: “While we’re spilling tea . . . you know the [production] cast video?”

Friend #1: “Yeah?”

Me: “Remember that photo where it looked like our [characters] were kissing?”

(The photo in question was taken at an awkward angle and it looked like our two male leads were about to start making out. The video had zoomed in on their faces with romantic music playing over it.)

Friend #2: “Oh yeah, that was the best.”

Me: “I took that picture.”

(Cue uncontrollable laughter from Friend #2.)

Friend #1: “WE’RE NOT WORTHY!”

I bought my property back in 2017. When I moved in I expected letters for previous owners/tenants which I sent back as ‘Not at this address.’ 3 years later, all correspondence for the other occupants has stopped. Except for one.

Bear in mind this is a well known bank with a good reputation. A black horse represents the bank

I have been getting letters for a previous tenant a few times in the years. I have always sent them back but end up getting them again. I have come to know that this tenant wasn’t very good with her money

I have called them several times and have finally had enough. I don’t want bailiffs at my door. This is my recent phone call in 2020.

Advisor – “good afternoon.” Normal greeting spiel

Me – “good afternoon, I would like discuss letters I have been getting for the last 3 years. I have sent them back and have called previously.

Advisor – “ok, do you have your account number, postcode, name….” basically asked for the kitchen sink

Me – “no, the letters aren’t for me. I have been getting them for a previous occupant who hasn’t lived here since 2017.

Advisor – “ok so what’s your account number?”

Me – “I don’t know. It’s not for me.”

The advisor kept repeating the same thing and asking for the same information. In the end I snapped and asked for the manager. I don’t normally do this but it’s been 3 years. Surely they should have got the message by now

Manager – “hello, how can I help?”

I explained the situation to the manager and it seems to have been resolved. I am just waiting to see if I get any more letters. I would have thought the bank would have a better way of dealing with these situations judging by how respected they are