My brother-in-law and my sister are born-again Christians of ten years, in a sect that does not condone alcohol or gambling. I have no problem with this ethos, but [Brother-In-Law] loves to shove his religious views down our throats at every family event… and it’s draining.

My parents were brought up in the same religion but are very laid back about the rules. They believe that what they do is their choice alone; everybody else can do their own thing. I’m agnostic.

I play the national lottery (£2 a week), and I like to have a glass of wine with meals out. [Brother-In-Law] comments on this every time we meet. He comments, “It’s a sin.” I say, “Only for you, not for me.”

This year, I won a few thousand in the lottery. I decided to give away some money to my parents and in-laws so they could go on a lovely holiday next year with the grandkids.

[Brother-In-Law] found out about the money and got my sister to call me to ask for their share.

Me: “[Brother-In-Law] has made it very clear that gambling is a sin and any money received is tainted by that sin. I wouldn’t want him to compromise his faith by accepting sinful money.”

My sister laughed and said she would relay the message to [Brother-In-Law].

[Brother-In-Law] is now not speaking to me. Oh, dear, what a shame.

Client: “Listen, you f***ers, our website is all fuzzy. I don’t know what you’ve done, but it is totally f****** fuzzy.”

Me: “I think you might have problems with your Internet connection. What you’re seeing is some of the images progressively downloading, and—”

Client: “Don’t give me any of that nerdy, numpty, nancy-boy mumbo jumbo. All of the pictures look like s***. If you don’t believe me, go on the site and you’ll f****** see.”

Me: “No, you’re confused. You see, if the images—”

Client: “Listen, f***er, I’ve got better things to do than…”

A long, long pause follows.

Client: “Oh, wait, you’ve fixed it.”

I work at a grocery store and sometimes find these odd things out of place. The worst one was when someone put a bottle of root beer in our ice cream freezer. A glass bottle. Of course, it broke.

Have you ever tried to pick shards of glass out of frozen root beer? The process took long enough that by the end, the root beer had turned to slush, making the extraction process easier.

Fortunately, no ice cream was lost.

I use a particularly well-known dating app that allows you to swipe left or right on would-be suitors. I matched with a girl, and my first impression was that she was very attractive, had a nice complexion, and took care of herself, and based on her photos, she enjoyed the great outdoors. Being an outdoorsy guy myself, she ticked a lot of my boxes. We exchanged numbers and went out on our first date.

That’s when her red flags really began showing.

Throughout the entire date at a restaurant I chose, she was mainly on her phone, texting away. In between that, she asked me a lot of personal questions such as my wealth, how much money I made, etc. Out of politeness, I decided not to cut the date short because I also wanted to avoid any potential drama, even though my date was being incredibly rude and obnoxious with her glaringly evident materialistic lifestyle. After we concluded the date, I went home and deleted her number ASAP.

Months went by without any contact whatsoever. I had pretty much forgotten about her up until I got a text from a number that wasn’t saved in my phone.

Date: “I wanted you to know that I am seeing someone new now.”

Me: “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Date: “Wow. It’s [Date]. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been thinking about me.”

Me: “Not really. I mean, why do you think I haven’t texted you since?”

Date: “It’s okay to be mad. Really. But I just want you to know that you can still win me back by taking me here.”

She then sent me a link to a private island vacation in the Caribbean. The price? At least $30,000 per person. I was speechless for a moment.

Me: “Hahaha, tell me this is a joke, please. You seriously think I’m that desperate?”

Date: “If you’re poor, babe, just say so!”

Me: “It’s not a matter of whether I’m poor or not. I just don’t believe that you are worth spending that much money on.”

Date: “Typical broke-a** boy talk.”

For the record, I would not describe myself as poor. I am self-employed and make a very decent income.

Me: “Huh, let’s see for a second. I took you out to [Expensive Restaurant], drove you in my [Expensive Car] because you didn’t want to book a [Rideshare] from your apartment, and paid for everything on the bill that you wanted, which also happened to be the most or nearly the most expensive thing on the menu. Who sounds more poor, love?”

She didn’t respond after that. I sincerely hope that whoever she’s “seeing” now is either incredibly desperate or just as shallow as her. The whole experience put me off dating for such a long time.

My friend, fiancé, and I traveled to Iceland back in 2016. As we were hiking up to the tucked-away warmed pool of Seljavallalaug, we got to talking with a couple from California.

Woman: “Where are you from?”

Me: “We’re all Canadians.”

Woman: “How long did you have to drive?”

Me: “Our hostel isn’t too far away — about an hour or so drive.”

Woman: *Giggling* “Oh, no, let me rephrase my question: how long did you have to drive to Iceland?”

All of us, even the woman’s partner, stopped and stood in awkward silence. I asked if she was serious (just to make sure) and, unfortunately, she was. I had to fight back the temptation to be sarcastic.

Me: “Well, you see, Iceland is an island, and Canada is a part of North America — not to mention that Greenland is between the two, and it’s also an island. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

Woman: “Oh, so you flew over on a plane. I thought with all the ice, you could drive over it.”